A Grosvenor Square Christmas Quotes

“Almost unconsciously, his gaze shifted across the immense ballroom to fasten on the girl, inexorably pulled to her like metal filings to a magnet. He could barely make her out since she was surrounded by her usual jostling court of ardent admirers, most of them titled, wealthy, and considerably handsomer than Nigel. If he was honest with himself, he’d have to admit that obsession would be the most accurate description of his feelings, and he hadn’t the slightest notion as to when or how that obsession had developed. However it had happened, over the last several months a ridiculous amount of space in his skull had been taken up by thoughts of lovely Amelia Easton. Fortunately, until now, none of his acquaintances had suspected that he—the most sensible man in the ton—had succumbed to such a maudlin, hopeless passion. A hopeless passion, since Amelia Easton would no sooner marry a man like Nigel than she would a butcher from Smithfield. After all, she was widely acknowledged as one of the great prizes on the matrimonial mart—beautiful, kind, good-natured, and disgustingly rich, or at least her father was. It was a most potent combination, and meant that the girl couldn’t step foot outside her family’s Mayfair townhouse without a pack of slavering bachelors in pursuit. “How”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Also invariably, one person will discover their true feelings before the other,” the butler continued. “And that person has a choice to make. Either they can alter the rules and start playing a different game… or they can be tortured. Wait for years and years on mere hope.” He paused, as if the words stuck in his throat. “I admire your Miss Westforth for choosing the former. It is the path others have been too cowardly to take.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“There is a kind of love that does not happen all at once. It happens in increments. In inches. It takes a lifetime to grow. And invariably, for the people falling, it is difficult to recognize, because they are so close to each other. They cannot see the changes as they occur.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“All men, whether they know it or not, desire manipulation. It is only charitable that we women manipulate them to our liking.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Some men will break under hours of torture, wanting for a woman. Some men endure decades.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Men, in my experience, have a great deal of difficulty appreciating what is right in front of them.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“I have always found hot tea beneficial when chunks of the earth start breaking free of their moorings. Also when one is cold and wet.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“He lowered his head to hers. Their lips a breath apart. “Are you certain?” she found herself saying. “If you kiss me – everything changes.” “And don’t you think it’s about time?” He grinned. And tilting her chin up, pressed his lips to hers. And Susannah, lost in that wonderful consuming last first kiss, in the warmth and press of his body wrapped around hers, had one single joyous thought shining above everything else. She had been right this whole time. One kiss did change everything.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“I need to ask you something.” “Yes?” He pulled her to him slowly, so much so that she did not know if it was him or gravity. “I heard… Did you really turn down an Earl over the summer?” Susannah’s eyes went wide, and then her cheeks heated up. But she kept her gaze on his. Finally, she nodded. “My friend Jude.” He coughed. Then began again. “He said that there were only two reasons a lady would turn down an Earl. If she was waiting for love, or if she had the means to be particular.” She kept her eyes on his face. Searching. “You know my family, Sebastian,” she answered calmly. “Do you think I can afford to be so choosy?” Her”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Hello,” he said. “…hello,” she replied, perplexed. “I thought I should start off with hello, seeing as I neglected to say it earlier.” Her brow came down in confusion. Where was he going with this? “Not because you took me by surprise,” he continued. “Although you did. But because I didn’t think I needed to have a beginning with you. Since we began so long ago, you see.” One eyebrow rose. “But I was wrong, and for that, I apologize.” His eyes became suddenly sad, and it was all Susannah could do to not reach out and touch his cheek. But she restrained herself. “I was away too long,” he whispered. “Three Christmases, six birthdays. However many weeks…” “One hundred fifty-six.” She found the corner of her mouth ticking up. “You were missed,” she concurred. “At home.” “Did you miss me?” he asked suddenly, and a thrill of heat ran through her. Between them. “Yes.” Her answer was frank. Calm. “Did you miss me?” “I missed far too much of you,” he answered. “I did not even realize how much until I came here and found the little girl that I knew had gone.” “She’s not gone,” Susannah conceded. “Not entirely. I still ride Clarabelle at home.” “Do you now?” The corner of his mouth ticked up. “In breeches,” she whispered. Something lit in his eyes. Some kind of… anticipation. And now she knew why her Aunt Julia had ordered her to not wear breeches while riding with other people. Not because they would offend. But because they could entice. She blushed at the thought, broke his gaze, looked at her shoes, at the little bench, and the candles dripping festive red wax in the wall sconce, looked at the eave they stood under, and the vines of ivy and garland that hung there. “I want the chance to start again with you, Susannah,” Sebastian whispered. “This new Susannah. I am a bit off-kilter here, and if you would simply give me the opportunity to catch up, I think you and I… I think we could…” He let that sentence drift off. Left her breathless at what he might have said. “Oh, I’m making a complete bungle of it, aren’t I?” He dropped her hand – had he been holding it this whole time? Ever since he pulled her in here? – and crossed his arms over his chest. “No, you’re not.” She reached out and put her hand on his arm, unwilling to break the connection. “And yes, I suppose a fresh start is fair.” After all, she reasoned, she’d had years to nurse her feelings. He’d had approximately ten minutes. A grin spread across his face, sending her heart into a hummingbird’s pace. She found herself smiling too. No, it was not him falling to his knees professing his love. But it was a start. “Then perhaps I should ask the beautiful Miss Westforth to dance.” The fast-paced reel was in its final notes now. A new dance would start up in minutes. “I would love to.” After”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“My Susannah . The words flashed through his mind, unbidden. And it was true. She had always been his Susannah. His friend. When he was young, he should have been more keen to rabble around with the young men in the village, or go shooting with his father, or any other more masculine pursuit… but no. He had always wanted to seek out Susie. To go for a ride with her. To spend the day playing cards with her by the fire. And the way she looked at him had made him feel… golden. But it had been more than that. He’d liked to hear her laugh. To know what she found amusing. To be himself with her. But now… now other men were making her laugh. Discovering her smiles. She could become someone else’s Susannah. He may not know if he was in love. But he knew for certain he did not want that to happen. A”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Change happens no matter what.” The butler cleared his throat. “And by the time she tried to kiss you, the change had already occurred. At least for Miss Westforth.” Philbert looked wistful for a moment. Then… “If I may impart some hard-earned wisdom, sir?” Sebastian nodded, but kept his eyes out into the darkness of Lady Winterson’s snowy garden. “There is a kind of love that does not happen all at once. It happens in increments. In inches. It takes a lifetime to grow. And invariably, for the people falling, it is difficult to recognize, because they are so close to each other. They cannot see the changes as they occur.” But then Sebastian had gone away. For three years. And coming home, all the changes that had taken place without him smacked him in the face, leaving him bereft. “Also invariably, one person will discover their true feelings before the other,” the butler continued. “And that person has a choice to make. Either they can alter the rules and start playing a different game… or they can be tortured. Wait for years and years on mere hope.” He paused, as if the words stuck in his throat. “I admire your Miss Westforth for choosing the former. It is the path others have been too cowardly to take.” Those words hung in the air, falling lightly to the ground like the snow. Settling into truth. “I… no,” Sebastian found himself saying. “Susannah may have had a… a crush on me, and I am deeply fond of her. But she’s not in love with me. And… I’m not in love with her,” Sebastian denied, shaking his head. “I can’t be. It’s… it’s Susannah. My little Susie.” Philbert shrugged. “That very well may be. But then perhaps it is worthwhile asking, why does her dancing and laughing with other gentlemen upset you so much?” “Because…” Sebastian tried, defensive. “Because she’s Susannah.” My Susannah . The words flashed through his mind, unbidden. And it was true. She had always been his Susannah. His friend. When he was young, he should have been more keen to rabble around with the young men in the village, or go shooting with his father, or any other more masculine pursuit… but no. He had always wanted to seek out Susie. To go for a ride with her. To spend the day playing cards with her by the fire. And the way she looked at him had made him feel… golden. But it had been more than that. He’d liked to hear her laugh. To know what she found amusing. To be himself with her. But now… now other men were making her laugh. Discovering her smiles. She could become someone else’s Susannah. He may not know if he was in love. But he knew for certain he did not want that to happen. A flash of conviction raced through him. And it wouldn’t, if he had anything to say about the matter. “If”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“If I may be so bold, sir,” the butler spoke up, causing Sebastian to start. Good lord, he hadn’t even realized he was still there. “I could not help but notice that you seemed to have quarreled with Miss Westforth.” Sebastian grunted in response. “She is your old friend from home.” The butler shrugged. “She will forgive you. Of course, may I suggest that you beg forgiveness as soon as possible? That seems the smoothest way to go about these things. Especially when you know someone as well as you know Miss Westforth.” “That’s just it!” Sebastian cried, with more vehemence than he realized he’d felt. “I do know Susie – Miss Westforth. And that fashionable creature is not her!” The Susie Sebastian knew would have laughed at a crowd of men vying for her attention. She would have rather been reading or working on puzzles or… “She is acting foolish, and I simply point this out, and I am told off for it. She’s dancing with Parkhurst and… and laughing with him, for God’s sake!” “Mr. Parkhurst is perhaps not the most humor-inducing young man here,” the butler agreed solemnly. “But how is Miss Westforth’s dancing and laughing different from any other young lady’s actions tonight?” “It’s…. it just is.” Sebastian said stubbornly. “And her dress… it’s unseemly!” “Actually, I have it on good authority that Miss Westforth’s gown is of the highest fashion and appropriate modesty for a young lady of nineteen.” Nineteen . God, hadn’t she just been sixteen and all bony angles? “How do you know all this?” Sebastian grumbled after a time. “About Miss Westforth’s gown… and how we are old friends, come to think of it.” The butler simply shrugged. “I am Philbert, sir. I know everything.” “Did you know that she tried to kiss me, then?” Sebastian mumbled, kicking his boot against the grey stone balustrade. Philbert’s mouth crooked up. “In the ballroom? How very forward.” “No, not now. She told me she tried to kiss me before.” “Before…?” “Before I went away. But apparently I wasn’t paying attention, and she ended up kissing a log.” “And were you?” Philbert asked. Sebastian’s eyebrow went up, not understanding. “Were you not paying attention,” he clarified. “Or did you know she tried to kiss you?” Sebastian felt another shift in the world beneath his feet. Smaller this time, but so, so important. Something clicking into place. “No. I suppose I did know. I just pretended it hadn’t happened.” He’d seen it. Just out of the corner of his eye, but he’d seen it. Three years ago, after a long run on their horses, breathless, her cheeks flushed and lovely. Sitting nearly leg to leg with him on that felled tree. And his heart had skipped a beat. A rush of… something had him standing before her lips could touch his cheek. “Why did you pretend it hadn’t happened?” Philbert asked quietly. “Because it would have changed things,” Sebastian answered in kind. A”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“He’d had to watch her all night, dance with man after man, smile at them, make them laugh and they make her laugh in turn, all the while his blood was settling into a boil. Of course he’d been too busy being angry to take a moment and figure out why he was angry when she came upon him skulking by the Christmas tree. Apparently that had not gone particularly well. Sebastian was left in a state of seething annoyance, watching Susannah (his little Susie! With scraped elbows and a dirty face!) get whisked away by a coterie of his old school friends – each more unctuous than the last, what could she possibly see in them? – after she gave him a set down he frankly did not deserve! Happy Christmas, indeed, he scoffed. “Didn’t”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“But enough of this nonsense. What is a girl like you doing in London?” “A girl like me?” “Well, yes. I mean, Susie, I just never expected to see you here. You’re not exactly…” The glass ball began to crack. “I’m not exactly what?” “Well…” He gave her a look. “This party… this dress… you’re supposed to be riding your horse over the hills in the country, not dancing with idiots like Parkhurst.” He laughed then. “It’s a little bit ridiculous, come to think of it.” She felt her brow come down. Her body go cold. The cracked glass ball shattered, and the rest of reality slipped back in. “You’re angry,” she realized. Some part of her broke a little. After all this time, he’d been gone and she’d been so happy to see him and… He was angry. “No, I’m not,” he blustered. “Yes, you are. You are angry because I am somehow ridiculous for having changed. But what’s ridiculous about it?” she asked, unable to keep her voice calm and cool, as she knew her aunt would insist. “I dance quite well, as you see. I look lovely in this dress. And I enjoy Mr. Parkhurst’s company.” “No one could enjoy –” “What I find ridiculous is that you come back after three years away and expect me to be unchanged. To be the skinny, awkward girl who tried to kiss you once and ended up kissing a log instead.” He blinked twice at that, but she kept going. “Instead you are angry – yes, angry! I can tell! – at my having had the audacity to grow up. And you mock me for having done so.” “Susie, I never meant –” “It’s Susannah, Sebastian. Or Miss Westforth. And the only ridiculous thing here right now is you.” With”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“You have a very curious look on your face,” Parkhurst said, bringing her attention back to him. (Another rule long since drilled into her head popped up: When with a man, give him your full attention. Unless he does not return the favor.) And Parkhurst definitely was earning her attention, his eyes peering into her face, searching. “Do I?” she asked, turning the corners of her mouth up. “Yes. I would pay all the money I have to know what you are thinking.” “Oh, I should prefer not to bankrupt you, so I will happily tell you,” Susannah answered back coyly. “I was thinking about my aunt, and some advice she has given me.” “Advice?” Parkhurst’s (slightly bushy) eyebrow went up. “On what subject?” “Men.” Now his second eyebrow joined the first. “And what was the advice?” “All men, whether they know it or not, desire manipulation. It is only charitable that we women manipulate them to our liking.” Parkhurst blinked twice and then burst out laughing. And Susannah glowed with pleasure, knowing that she had gained the attention of every man in the room – and cemented the gaze of one man in particular.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Well, well,” she murmured. “That knocked his socks off. It will be a few hours yet before she has him smiling. Although, to hear Julia tell it, a little torture might be in that boy’s best interest.” “Hours of torture?” Philbert asked, shaking his now silver head. Lucy could remember when it had been a deep chocolate, thick and wavy. Of course, it was still thick, still waved. She raised her hand to her own light hair. Silver now too, she knew. But hopefully, still stylish. “Yes.” Lucy nodded. “Why, do you think that too much?” “It’s not for me to say, my lady.” The corner of his mouth went up. “Some men will break under hours of torture, wanting for a woman. Some men endure decades.” Something zipped through Lucy’s heart. Something uncomfortable, something wonderful. And when her eyes met his… something that made her flush all over again.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Mr. Beckett is here, Miss Westforth is here, and I am certain sparks will fly between them. That is, once we put them together.” Philbert glanced over her shoulder into the ballroom beyond. “I fear there is little we need to do for this couple.” She followed his gaze to where she could see Miss Susannah Westforth, the most sought after young lady of the past Season, surrounded by a sea of young men, giving Sebastian Beckett her hand to bow over. Startled, he did so. Then, a waltz began, and before the first three notes had been played, Susannah’s partner had stepped forward to claim her and lead her to the floor. The look on Mr. Beckett’s face fluctuated between completely shocked and utterly murderous. “Well, well,” she murmured. “That knocked his socks off. It will be a few hours yet before she has him smiling. Although, to hear Julia tell it, a little torture might be in that boy’s best interest.” “Hours of torture?” Philbert asked, shaking his now silver head. Lucy could remember when it had been a deep chocolate, thick and wavy. Of course, it was still thick, still waved. She raised her hand to her own light hair. Silver now too, she knew. But hopefully, still stylish. “Yes.” Lucy nodded. “Why, do you think that too much?” “It’s not for me to say, my lady.” The corner of his mouth went up. “Some men will break under hours of torture, wanting for a woman. Some men endure decades.” Something”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Home would wait a few more days for him. It would not have changed. That was the last thought he could remember before Parkhurst turned to greet them, allowing Sebastian a peek at the young lady that was the center of all this male attention. He saw her all at once, but in that moment, it was as though his mind could comprehend her only in small pieces. Dark, silky hair, done up in intricate falling curls that touched against creamy soft shoulders. Her dress clung to the curves on her slim frame, making a man acutely aware of what was seen and what was unseen. Hooded eyes sparkling in the candlelight, a knowing smile painted on a full-lipped mouth that offered a hint of promise… hope for whispered conversation full of double meanings. And her voice… it was as familiar to him as a song, but somehow, he’d never heard it this way before. “Hello, Sebastian,” Susannah Westforth purred. Little no more. “Happy Christmas.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“I hear that every young lady worth meeting this season is there. And some shine especially bright. There’s one my mother says was such a success this season, she turned down seven marriage proposals. Even one from an Earl!” His eyes glittered, his voice became wistful. “A lady like that must be incredible.” Jude got his love of gossip from his mother. “Or incredibly silly,” Sebastian argued. “Who turns down an Earl?” “Someone who is waiting for love,” Jude considered. “Or someone who can afford to be particular.” Sebastian”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“I don’t know – *hic* – what to do!” Susannah wailed. “I’ve tried everything. I tried being near him and riding with him and… and I even tried kissing him once!” Julia’s eyebrow went up. “Did you now?” It had been for naught, of course. She had been sitting next to him on a felled log, after a good long sprint on Clarabelle, and she had leaned into him, her eyes closed, only to find that he had stood some moments before and she was left kissing tree bark. When Sebastian turned, he’d seen her face down and done nothing more than raise a brow and said, “Lose your balance, Susie? Up for the ride back?” “I just know – *hic* – that if I could have kissed him, he would have felt everything I feel for him, I just know it!” Susannah continued, straightening and sniffing. “It would change everything! But now he’s gone, and I’ll never have the chance!” This last realization brought on a whole new set of sobs.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Would you like to talk about it?” This too was met with deafening silence. Because no matter how much Susannah might like to confide in her Aunt Julia, she just couldn’t. No one could understand how she felt, deep inside. It was too powerful, too unpronounceable, too unwieldy a thing, and if she said it out loud it would just explode like a cannon. “Well,” Julia said with a sigh. “Perhaps I can guess.” She paused to think, but only for a moment. “You are sad because Sebastian has left for his Grand Tour, and you are afraid he will go away and forget you and meet some other young woman. Perhaps she’s Parisian. Or Belgian. Those Belgian girls do have forthrightness that comes with being from such a small country. But regardless of the nationality of this young lady, she is sophisticated and fashionable and she’ll have Sebastian wrapped around her finger. And he’ll never see you as anything other than a little sister.” Susannah’s head came up. She stared at her aunt, her tear-stained cheeks flushed, but her eyes unblinking and suddenly quite dry. “By the time he comes back, your young Mr. Beckett will be married to said Belgian girl, who you will be forced to smile at and visit with at Custard House, even as your heart breaks with every love-coo she sends her henpecked Sebastian.” Susannah gaped. Her mind reeled at the exposure of her deepest, darkest fears. “That was the most terrible thing you could have possibly said,” she blurted out, slapping a hand over her mouth in horror. But Julia just smiled. “It’s also the most unlikely to happen. Good English boys don’t go on their Grand Tour and come back married.” “But… it could. Belgian girls, and all.” “True, but it doesn’t happen to good English boys who rely on their good English fathers for income, at least,” her aunt said wryly.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Once upon a time there was a little girl who loved her horse. (This is a very dull way to start a story, but it’s true.) She loved riding her horse, she loved brushing her horse, she – well, she didn’t much love mucking out the stall, but for her horse, she would do it. And that, her aunt told her, was the true measure of love. And that was how Susannah Westforth knew she loved Sebastian Beckett. She had known it even at the tender age of nine, when the Becketts moved into the estate on the other side of the village, known as Custard House. (Yes, Custard House.) She knew it when he – a mature and authoritative thirteen-year-old – would obligingly play cards with her on rainy days, or when he would muss her hair and say, “Well done, Susie!” as she took down her opponent in bowls. She knew it when they were both home for school holidays, and he let her tag along to whatever boyish endeavor happened to be going on with the local farmers’ children, acting as her protector and advocate all at once. And she knew it now, at the age of sixteen, watching him rumble away in his carriage to go off on his Grand Tour. Susannah would have done anything for Sebastian. Possibly even mucked out one of his horse’s stalls, although thankfully, he never asked her. “Oh,”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“Lachlan turned her into his arms and smiled down at her, his eyes alight with pride and unashamed worship. “May I have this dance, my darling?” “You may, my lord.” She choked back another surge of powerful emotion. She could hardly believe that all this happened to her. Surely she must burst with the joy exploding inside her like fireworks. On a swell of sweet music, the man she loved swept her into a swirling waltz and transformed Campion’s secret dreams into glorious reality.   The”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“I’m the luckiest devil alive,” he muttered, his eyes dazed as if he couldn’t comprehend the extent of his good fortune. In that magical moment, Campion Parnell, poor, neglected, unloved, felt herself blossom into a woman capable of commanding nations with the merest hint of a smile. She drew herself up to her full height and extended her hand toward him. “I believe Lady Winterson has achieved another Christmas miracle in us, my lord.” “My darling, I—” She’d never seen him at a loss for words. That perilous lump of emotion lodged in her throat again, even as she told herself that she couldn’t cry here in public on the happiest night of her life. When Lachlan drew Campion aside, he attracted even more curious stares than he had arriving hand in hand with an unknown lady. “I want the world to know you’re mine.” “I am,” she murmured for his ears alone. The hand that he slid into his jacket wasn’t quite steady. He withdrew something small and glittering. “Say you’ll wear this tonight. And forever. Please.” The “please” touched her. But not quite as much as the sight of this supremely confident man regarding her with such agonized yearning in his green eyes. He extended the sparkling diamond ring toward her. “You’re certainly prepared,” she said huskily, staring at the ring without shifting forward. Tonight had been so packed with surprises. She became inured to marvels. “I intended to give it to you this afternoon,” he said in an undertone. “But you took to your heels before I had a chance.” Feeling as if a flaming torch burned inside her, she held her hand out in consent. “In future, I promise to stay and listen whenever you offer me diamonds.” “I’ll remember that.” His face alight with love, he slid the ring onto her finger. His shaking urgency made her realize anew that she wasn’t dreaming.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“The Earl of Ravenglass can’t marry the woman who’s been his mistress for six weeks.” “Watch me.” She heard the same determination that had carried his mother to success against Aunt Ida. Campion had a feeling that she fought a losing battle here. Still she wasn’t quite ready to surrender. His breath escaped in a frustrated hiss. “Sweetheart, none of this matters a tinker’s damn. Society. Manners. Propriety. What matters is that I love you. Do you love me?” Her tone turned tart. “Clearly you think I do.” His”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“The Earl of Ravenglass can’t marry the woman who’s been his mistress for six weeks.” “Watch me.” She”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“What did you say?” “You heard me.” “I heard what you said.” She was shivering, despite the warmth of his body so near to hers. “But it makes no sense.” His grip on her shoulders softened to a caress. “Campion, you must know I want to marry you.” She frowned. “Why on earth would I know that?” His sigh this time was long-suffering. “I told you I loved you.” “Even in Croxley, there are disreputable young men with wild oats to sow. When a fellow wants to tumble a woman, he tells her that he loves her.” Her tone was dull. “It’s part of the game.” “What a cynic you are, my darling,” he said with a huff of derisive amusement. “And while some men might do that, I don’t.” “Why should I think you any different from every other rake in London?” “Come, Campion, I don’t believe you mean that. You know I’m different. If you didn’t know I’m different, you’d never have given yourself to me.” His voice developed an edge. “Even if you imagined I was trifling with you at first, you must know by now that you have my heart. If you don’t, then for a clever woman, you haven’t been very clever. I’m not a fickle man, nor do I take what we did lightly. I’m utterly in love with you. I’ve hardly kept it a secret.” “I was trying so hard not to lose my head,” she said unsteadily. His proposal echoed through her mind like a thousand clashing cymbals. Had he really asked her to marry him? To the invisible stars, she’d whispered a wish for Lachlan to love her forever. Could they have granted her request? “And in the process, you tortured me with endless uncertainty. You’ve never told me you loved me.” His”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“I had no idea that you would come up with this mad scheme. How did you enlist your mother in your wickedness? What lies did you tell her?” “None. From the first, my mother has known exactly who you are.” His nonchalant reply knotted her stomach with shame and anger. How could he be so careless of her reputation? “Your mistress?” After a fraught pause, Lachlan’s voice emerged deep and steady. “The woman I want to marry.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas

“I’m furious with you,” he said almost idly. Curled in his arms, warm and safe with his heart beating steadily beneath her cheek, it was difficult to take his displeasure seriously. “Why?” “You left without saying goodbye this afternoon.” In the lightless, confined cabin, his Scottish accent seemed impossibly exotic, so much more noticeable than in the light of day. She buried her face in his brocade waistcoat and felt his hand rest on her coiled hair. If they weren’t careful, all Lise’s hard work would go for nothing and Campion would emerge from the carriage looking like she’d run through a hurricane. The spicy essence of lemon soap and Lachlan’s skin filled her senses. “I couldn’t bear to tell you that it was our last afternoon together.” He tensed against her and his heart kicked into a faster rhythm. “Last?” She raised her head. Her vision had adjusted enough for her to see the glitter of his eyes. “My aunt is sending me back to Sussex tomorrow.” “Damn it, Campion, you should have told me.” His embrace firmed as he pressed her closer. “I had things to say to you today. Important things.” Happiness had fluttered inside her like fledgling birds since she’d seen him. His somber tone pricked at her elation. “I suppose you want me to leave my aunt’s home and stay in London as your mistress,” she said flatly. He thrust her back against the seat so hard that she bounced. She flinched beneath his blistering anger as his hands tightened on her shoulders. “Of course I wasn’t going to say that, you lovely fool.” She hardly heard him. “I know I’m provincial and poor, but I’m proud of the Parnell name. My parents were fine people who loved me. I can’t bring shame upon their memory by accepting your carte blanche.” She blinked away the prickling rush of moisture. For a fleeting instant tonight, she’d imagined that she was done with tears, at least until Christmas Eve turned into Christmas Day. “Whatever else I might choose to do if there were no other considerations.” “So are you saying that you’d like to be my mistress?” he asked slowly, in a tone she couldn’t interpret. She shrugged unhappily and risked the truth. “I don’t want to leave you.” His sigh expressed temper. “Yet you did leave me.” “Lachlan, don’t be angry. Not tonight.” She framed his face with her hands, although it was too dark to see his expression. He’d recently shaved. His skin was smoother than it had been this afternoon. “I know I was a coward, but it seemed easier on both of us if I just disappeared.” “Did it indeed?” The muscles of his cheeks were taut under her palms, but his question sounded merely curious. “I thought that was the last time I’d ever see you.”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas