Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1 Quotes

“Before I met you I was only half-alive.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“if you are the soul of kindness and amiability, then the world must be a very dangerous place.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“There was little less appealing than being decisively contradicted while one was trying to make a grand point.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Knowing is rarely a prerequisite for hating,”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“realized”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Later that night, in a town house in the very best part of London, a woman picked up her quill and wrote: Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers 12 April 1824 Ah, Gentle Reader, This Author has learned that the Bridgerton grandchildren will soon number eleven . . . But when she tried to write more, all she could do was close her eyes and sigh. She’d been doing this for so very long now. Could it have possibly been eleven years already? Maybe it was time to move on. She was tired of writing about everyone else. It was time to live her own life. And so Lady Whistledown set down her quill and walked to her window, pushing aside her sage green curtains and looking out into the inky night. “Time for something new,” she whispered. “Time to finally be me.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, smelling . . . Smelling . . . He drew back. “Would you care for a bath?” Her face turned an instant scarlet. “Oh, no,” she moaned, the words muffled into the hand she’d clapped over her mouth. “It was so filthy in jail, and I was forced to sleep on the ground, and—” “Don’t tell me any more,” he said. “But—” “Please.” If he heard more he might have to kill someone. As long as there had been no permanent damage, he didn’t want to know the details.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“The magistrate blushed slightly, then grabbed the warden’s arm and yanked him out of the room. “There now,” Violet murmured. “Where were we?” Benedict beamed with pride as he watched his mother march right up to Lady Penwood and stare her down. He stole a glance at Sophie. Her mouth was hanging open. “My son is going to marry Sophie,” Violet said, “and you are going to tell anyone who will listen that she was the ward of your late husband.” “I will never lie for her,” Lady Penwood shot back. Violet shrugged. “Fine. Then you can expect my solicitors to begin looking for Sophie’s dowry immediately. After all, Benedict will be entitled to it once he marries her.” Benedict slipped his arm around Sophie’s waist and gave her a light squeeze. “If someone asks me,” Lady Penwood ground out, “I will confirm whatever story you bandy about. But do not expect me to go out of my way to help her.” Violet pretended to mull that over, then said, “Excellent. I do believe that will do nicely.” She turned to her son. “Benedict?” He gave her a sharp nod. His mother turned back to Lady Penwood. “Sophie’s father was named Charles Beckett and he was a distant cousin of the earl’s, no?” Lady Penwood looked as if she’d swallowed a bad clam, but she nodded nonetheless.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“The magistrate’s eyes bugged out. “You’re not suggesting I arrest the countess?” “No, of course not,” Violet demurred. “She’d likely go free. The aristocracy rarely pays for its crimes. But,” she added, tilting her head slightly to the side as she gave Lady Penwood a very pointed glance, “if you were to arrest her, it would be terribly embarrassing while she defended the charges.” “What are you trying to say?” Lady Penwood asked through decidedly clenched teeth. Violet turned to the magistrate. “Might I have a few moments alone with Lady Penwood?” “Of course, my lady.” He gave her a gruff nod, then barked, “Everyone! Out!” “No, no,” Violet said with a sweet smile as she pressed something that looked suspiciously like a pound note into his palm. “My family may stay.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“time.” The magistrate cleared his throat and turned on Araminta, “And what has happened to her dowry?” Araminta said nothing. Lady Bridgerton cleared her throat. “I don’t think it’s terribly legal,” she said, “to embezzle a young woman’s dowry.” She smiled—a slow, satisfied sort of smile. “Eh, Araminta?” Chapter 23 Lady Penwood appears to have left town. So does Lady Bridgerton. Interesting . . . LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 18 JUNE 1817 Benedict decided he had never loved his mother more than he did at that very minute. He was trying not to grin, but it was exceedingly difficult with Lady Penwood gasping like a fish on land.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Such a scurry on Bruton Street. The dowager Viscountess Bridgerton and her son, Benedict Bridgerton, were seen dashing out of her house Friday morning. Mr. Bridgerton practically threw his mother into a carriage, and they took off at breakneck speed. Francesca and Hyacinth Bridgerton were seen standing in the doorway, and This Author has it on the best authority that Francesca was heard to utter a very unladylike word. But the Bridgerton household was not the only one to see such excitement. The Penwoods also experienced a great deal of activity, culminating in a public row right on the front steps between the countess and her daughter, Miss Posy Reiling. As This Author has never liked Lady Penwood, she can only say, “Huzzah for Posy!” LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 16 JUNE 1817”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“As he approached the nursery door, the laughter increased, with a few squeals thrown in for good measure. The sounds brought a smile to Benedict’s face, and he turned when he reached the open doorway, and then— He saw her. Her. Not Sophie. Her. And yet it was Sophie. She was blindfolded, smiling as she groped her hands toward the giggling children. He could see only the bottom half of her face, and that’s when he knew. There was only one other woman in the world for whom he’d seen only the bottom half of her face. The smile was the same. The gamine little point at the end of her chin was the same. It was all the same. She was the woman in silver, the woman from the masquerade ball. It suddenly made sense. Only twice in his life had he felt this inexplicable, almost mystical attraction to a woman. He’d thought it remarkable, to have found two, when in his heart he’d always believed there was only one perfect woman out there for him. His heart had been right. There was only one. He’d searched for her for months. He’d pined for her even longer. And here she’d been right under his nose.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Or maybe,” Violet continued, warming to the endeavor, “she’s the illegitimate child of a nobleman.” That was considerably more plausible—and more palatable. “One would think he’d have settled enough funds on her so that she didn’t have to work as a housemaid.” “A great many men completely ignore their by-blows,” Violet said, her face wrinkling with distaste. “It’s nothing short of scandalous.” “More scandalous than their having the by-blows in the first place?” Violet’s expression turned quite peevish. “Besides,” Benedict said, leaning back against the sofa and propping one ankle on the other knee, “if she were the bastard of a nobleman, and he’d cared for her enough to make sure she had schooling as a child, then why is she completely penniless now?” “Hmmm, that’s a good point.” Violet tapped her index finger against her cheek, pursed her lips, then continued tapping. “But have no fear,” she finally said, “I shall discover her identity within a month.” “I’d recommend asking Eloise for help,” Benedict said dryly. Violet nodded thoughtfully. “Good idea. That girl could get Napoleon to spill his secrets.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Don’t listen to him,” Lady Bridgerton said, walking toward the stairs. “Here, come with me, Miss Beckett. What did you say your given name was?” “Sophia. Sophie.” “Come with me, Sophie. I’ll introduce you to the girls. And,” she added, her nose crinkling with distaste, “we’ll find you something new to wear. I cannot have one of our maids dressed so shabbily. A person would think we didn’t pay you a fair wage.” It had never been Sophie’s experience that members of the ton were concerned about paying their servants fairly, and she was touched by Lady Bridgerton’s generosity.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“It seems one cannot take two steps at a London ball these days without stumbling across a society matron lamenting the difficulties of finding good help. Indeed, This Author thought that Mrs. Featherington and Lady Penwood were going to come to blows at last week’s Smythe-Smith musicale. It seems that Lady Penwood stole Mrs. Featherington’s lady’s maid right out from under her nose one month ago, promising higher wages and free cast-off clothing. (It should be noted that Mrs. Featherington also gave the poor girl cast-off clothing, but anyone who has ever observed the attire of the Featherington girls would understand why the lady’s maid would not view this as a benefit.) The plot thickened, however, when the lady’s maid in question fled back to Mrs. Featherington, begging to be rehired. It seemed that Lady Penwood’s idea of a lady’s maid included duties more accurately ascribed to the scullery maid, upstairs maid, and cook. Someone ought to tell the woman that one girl cannot do the work of three. LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 2 MAY 1817”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“She stared at him, right into his eyes. And that was when she knew. He wasn’t going to recognize her. He had no idea who she was. Sophie didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“She turned to Benedict and nodded, still afraid to use her voice. She felt as if she were choking inside, although she wasn’t certain whether that was from fear or relief. “Good,” he said. “Shall we be off?” She gave a rather pointed look at the arm that was still holding her hostage. “Oh, for the love of God,” Benedict snarled. “Will you let go of her or will I have to shoot your damned hand off?” Benedict wasn’t even holding a gun, but the tone of his voice was such that the man let go instantly. “Good,” Benedict said, holding his arm out toward the maid. She stepped forward, and with trembling fingers placed her hand on his elbow. “You can’t just take her!” Phillip yelled. Benedict gave him a supercilious look. “I just did.” “You’ll be sorry you did this,” Phillip said. “I doubt it. Now get out of my sight.” Phillip made a huffy sound, then turned his friends and said, “Let’s get out of here.” Then he turned to Benedict and added, “Don’t think you shall ever receive another invitation to one of my parties.” “My heart is breaking,” Benedict drawled.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Sophie cried out as she was propelled forward, and she clutched tightly to her small bag. She was about to be raped; that much was clear. But her panicked mind wanted to hold on to some last shred of dignity, and she refused to allow these men to spill her every last belonging onto the cold ground. The man who caught her fondled her roughly, then shoved her toward the third one. He’d just snaked his hand around her waist, when she heard someone yell out, “Cavender!” Sophie shut her eyes in agony. A fourth man. Dear God, weren’t three enough? “Bridgerton!” Phillip called out. “Come join us!” Sophie’s eyes snapped open. Bridgerton? A tall, powerfully built man emerged from the shadows, moving forward with easy, confident grace. “What have we here?” Dear God, she’d recognize that voice anywhere. She heard it often enough in her dreams. It was Benedict Bridgerton. Her Prince Charming.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“You’re very quiet,” Benedict said softly. “I was just thinking.” “About?” “About what I’d miss—and what I wouldn’t miss—should my life drastically change.” His eyes grew intense. “And do you expect it to drastically change?” She shook her head and tried to keep the sadness out of her voice when she answered, “No.” His voice grew so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Do you want it to change?” “Yes,” she sighed, before she could stop herself. “Oh, yes.” He took her hands and brought them to his lips, gently kissing each one in turn. “Then we shall begin right now,” he vowed. “And tomorrow you shall be transformed.” “Tonight I am transformed,” she whispered. “Tomorrow I shall disappear.” Benedict drew her close and dropped the softest, most fleeting of kisses onto her brow. “Then we must pack a lifetime into this very night.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“As for the earl, he never intervened. Sophie’s life continued in this vein for four years, until the earl surprised everyone by clutching his hand to his chest while taking tea in the rose garden, letting out one ragged gasp, and falling facefirst to the stone cobbles. He never regained consciousness.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“After seven years alone in the nursery, Sophie was delighted. Unlike the other children in the district, she was never invited to local parties and events. No one actually came out and called her a bastard—to do so was tantamount to calling the earl, who had made one declaration that Sophie was his ward and then never revisited the subject, a liar. But at the same time, the earl never made any great attempt to force Sophie’s acceptance. And so at the age of ten, Sophie’s best friends were maids and footmen, and her parents might as well have been the housekeeper and butler. But now she was getting sisters for real.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“In the past few days he’d proven himself sensitive, caring, and principled. Even, she thought with a glimmer of a smile as she recalled the light in Penelope Featherington’s eyes when he’d saved her from the verbal talons of Cressida Cowper, heroic. He was devoted to family. He had used his social position and power not to lord over others but simply to spare another person insult. He had helped her through one of her phobic attacks with a grace and sensitivity that, now that she could view it with a clear head, stunned her. He might have been a rake and a rogue—he might still be a rake and a rogue—but clearly his behavior to those ends did not define the man. And the only objection Kate had to his marrying Edwina was . . . She swallowed painfully. There was a lump the size of a cannonball in her throat. Because deep in her heart, she wanted him for herself.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Kate, who, along with the rest of the assembled company, had been staring openmouthed as Bridgerton led Penelope from the room, his head bent to hers as if she were the most fascinating woman ever to walk the earth, turned to see Edwina standing next to her. “I saw the whole thing,” Kate said in a dazed voice. “I heard the whole thing.” “What happened?” “He was . . . he was . . .” Kate stumbled over her words, unsure of how to describe what exactly he’d done. And then she said something she’d never thought possible: “He was a hero.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“He was going to stop right there and leave her bothered and breathless. But when there was barely an inch between them, the pull grew too strong. Her scent was too beguiling, the sound of her breath too arousing. The prickles of desire he’d meant to spark within her suddenly ignited within him, sending a warm claw of need to the very tips of his toes. And the finger he’d been trailing along her cheek—just to torture her, he told himself—suddenly became a hand that cupped the back of her head as his lips took hers in an explosion of anger and desire. She gasped against his mouth, and he took advantage of her parted lips by sliding his tongue between them. She was stiff in his arms, but it seemed more to do with surprise than anything else, and so Anthony pressed his suit further by allowing one of his hands to slide down her back and cup the gentle curve of her derriere.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Anthony knew he had to be insane. There could be no other explanation. He’d meant to scare her, terrify her, make her understand that she could never hope to meddle in his affairs and win, and instead . . . He kissed her. Intimidation had been his intention, and so he’d moved closer and closer until she, an innocent, could only be cowed by his presence. She wouldn’t know what it was like to have a man so near that the heat of his body seeped through her clothes, so close that she couldn’t tell where his breath ended and hers began.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Maybe,” he whispered, so close now that his breath kissed her lips, “you desired something else altogether.” Kate tried to shake her head, but her muscles refused to obey. “Are you sure?” This time, her head betrayed her and gave a little shake. He smiled, and they both knew he had won.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Here he was, pouring a glass of the finest whiskey for Maria Rosso, one of the few women of his acquaintance who knew how to appreciate both a fine whiskey and the devilish intoxication that followed, and all he could smell was the damned scent of Kate Sheffield. He knew she was in the house—and he was half ready to kill his mother for that—but this was ridiculous.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“No, if he felt uneasy, if he felt frustrated, if he felt like he wanted to put his damned fist through a brick wall, it was because he was using Maria to banish the nightmare that was Kate Sheffield from his mind. He never wanted to wake up hard and tortured again, knowing that Kate Sheffield was the cause. He wanted to drown himself in another woman until the very memory of the dream dissolved and faded into nothingness. Because God knew he was never going to act on that particular erotic fantasy. He didn’t even like Kate Sheffield. The thought of bedding her made him break out in a cold sweat, even as it swirled a ripple of desire right through his gut.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Her ankles swelled and her cheeks got puffy, and her digestive tract did things that she absolutely did not wish to experience again. She thought of her sister-in-law Lucy, who positively glowed throughout pregnancy—which was a good thing, as Lucy was currently fourteen months pregnant with her fifth child. Or nine months, as the case might be. But Daphne had seen her just a few days earlier, and she looked as if she were fourteen months along. Huge. Staggeringly huge. But still glowing, and with astonishingly dainty ankles.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1

“Simon threw up his arms in amazement, the single-sheet newspaper flying across the room. “How does she know this?” he demanded. “We’ve told no one of our decision to name him David.” Daphne tried not to smile as she watched her husband sputter and storm about the room. “It’s just a lucky guess, I’m sure,” she said, turning her attention back to the newborn in her arms. It was far too early to know if his eyes would remain blue or turn brown like his older sisters’, but already he looked so like his father; Daphne couldn’t imagine that his eyes would spoil the effect by darkening.”
― Julia Quinn, Bridgerton Collection, Volume 1