The Stolen Mackenzie Bride Quotes

“Now I know why Englishmen don’t let their ladies fight alongside them. The women would take over in a heartbeat.” Mary squeezed his arm in the darkness. “Don’t be silly.” “’Tis true, and the English bastards know it. That’s why they write laws t’ keep their women tamed. And why I keep having to rescue ye.” “You mean abducting me.” Mal heaved a mock sigh. “Well, we’re never going to see eye to eye on that.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“If ye get into trouble, if one of the English soldiers grabs ye, jab this into him, hard as ye can, and run like the devil. Don’t be squeamish or hesitate, because he’ll do much worse to you.” Mary nodded, her eyes grave. “I understand.” She did, the little love. Mal pretended to shiver. “Now I know why Englishmen don’t let their ladies fight alongside them. The women would take over in a heartbeat.” Mary squeezed his arm in the darkness. “Don’t be silly.” “’Tis true, and the English bastards know it. That’s why they write laws t’ keep their women tamed. And why I keep having to rescue ye.” “You mean abducting me.” Mal heaved a mock sigh. “Well, we’re never going to see eye to eye on that.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“Never mind about me," she said quickly. "As long as Audrey is happy, that will be enough."
Malcolm stepped closer, shaking his head. "Never let it be enough, lass. People like us, we have to snatch up our happiness as soon as we find it. And not let go."
He lifted her hand to his mouth, his breath burning the skin on the inside of her wrist as he took a tiny bite.
Mary's heart nearly stopped beating. She'd never felt anything like it, the scrape of teeth on sensitive skin, the fire that plunged straight from there to the join of her legs.
Malcolm looked at her, his mouth still at her wrist, the wickedness in his eyes stealing what was left on her breath. He took another little bite, then another. He worked his way up her arm until he stopped by the lace at her elbow.
Malcolm lifted his head. He transferred his fingertips to her cheek, caressing there before he skimmed down her throat to the tops of her breasts. He stood so close now that the rise of his chest touched hers.
Just when Mary thought he would stop, finished, Malcolm leaned to take his lips along the path his fingers had- cheek, throat, breasts. Mary's head went back, her body rising to his mouth, whether she willed it or no.
"You'll ruin me," she whispered.
Malcolm studied her, his amber-colored gaze intense. "Marry me, lass, and I'll ruin ye every day.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“Ye have to be bold, lad. We're told that ladies want cringing politeness from a gentleman, but what they really want is a bit of forwardness, even carnality. It's exciting for them.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“Mal watched Mary hurry to meet her aunt, her skirts rippling like water. She was beauty itself, and Mal wanted her.
Not simply in bed- though he definitely would have that- he wanted her nearness, her warmth, that silken voice that tried to be haughty, the sudden flash of her smile. Mal's body tightened, goading him to pursue her and do all the good things he longed to.
He would. He'd see her again; he'd make certain of it.
Mal reflected as he moved down the passage on his errand that he'd already learned much about Lady Mary Lennox. She was passionate and romantic, beguilingly so, but tried to hide that nature under proper behavior. She'd wanted Malcolm to kiss her- he'd seen it in her heartrendingly blue eyes. Mary had stopped herself only at the last moment, and reluctantly.
She also had compassion, helping her sister communicate with a forbidden lover. If Mary *truly* believed in propriety, she'd never condone her sister writing such a heartfelt letter.
She also risked censure for being the go-between. This showed that Mary was fond enough for her sister to risks for her. Brave then, as well.
Courage, passion, beauty, compassion, and something inside her that longed to be wicked- *what a woman.* One night in bed with her would be worth every step he took to get her there. Whatever errands Mal had to run for her, whatever billet doux he needed to carry, or drippy-nosed suitors to run through with his sword, he would do it all for his reward at the end.
*Mary*. Even her name was a joy to say. Mal spoke it out loud in the silence of the empty hall. He'd teach her to call him Mal, and she'd say it in her smooth voice when she was deep in passion.
She'd be reluctant at first, but Mal would coax her, like a bird to his hand, teaching her to trust, never breaking her. And then Mary would be his.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“As Mary emerged, he shut the door for her then pulled her into the circle of his arms. He held her, not speaking, his head bowed to her shoulder. They were so fragile, Mary realized, these men. In spite of their physical strength, their bluster, the ear-splitting loudness of their voices, they were vulnerable. Broken if struck the wrong way. They needed someone to love them, to care for them, to keep them whole.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“If ye get into trouble, if one of the English soldiers grabs ye, jab this into him, hard as ye can, and run like the devil. Don’t be squeamish or hesitate, because he’ll do much worse to you.” Mary nodded, her eyes grave. “I understand.” She did, the little love. Mal pretended to shiver. “Now I know why Englishmen don’t let their ladies fight alongside them. The women would take over in a heartbeat.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“There were lines about those eyes, of fatigue, grief, dirt in the creases, but his expression was one of good humor. “Good Lord, you did steal her.” “She came willingly,” Mal said. “Well, willingly enough.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“Everything ye see is ours,” he said. “What do ye think?” Mary’s eyes shone. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” Her cheeks were pink from the wind, her lips red. “Or cold.” “Aye, well, that’s Kilmorgan for ye. Will enchant ye and try to kill ye at the same time.” “Aren’t most Scotsmen like that?” Mal shrugged. “’Tis a good point.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“What are ye doing t’ me, Mary?” he asked in a near-whisper. “I don’t know.” Mary explored the crease between his leg and torso. “I can’t seem to stop.” “Well, I’m not going to stop ye.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“Take another,” Mal said. “And close your eyes.” Mary obeyed. Malcolm’s breath was warm as he leaned to her. “It rests in its cask in the heart of the Highlands, overlooking the sea. Ye can taste the sea winds, can’t ye? The crisp air, the openness of the world.” Mary wasn’t certain she could taste all that in this drop, but she tasted something. Mellow, strong, like Malcolm would be when he aged.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“You’ll ruin me,” she whispered. Malcolm studied her, his amber-colored gaze intense. “Marry me, lass, and I’ll ruin ye every day.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“Englishwomen are resilient creatures. I do not know why people assume we are sweet and docile, innocent and weak." Mary unfolded her arms and rested her hands primly on her lap. "Look at Boadicea, who led forces against the Roman army for a long, long time. Queen Elizabeth, who often had to remark she was 'only a woman' to spare the feelings of gentlemen she could outthink. Even Aunt Danae has survived three husbands and is entertaining thoughts of a fourth, on her own terms. You have no need to worry about me.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“Audrey looked much like Mary- fair-haired with a touch of red in it, and blue-eyed. But while Mary's face was a bit round, holding the robustness of her father, Audrey had the more delicate features of their late mother. Her blue eyes were large in her face, her chin pointed, her mouth soft. When she smiled, she was lovely and ethereal.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

“Mary dragged in a long breath as the kiss eased to an end, but she wouldn't look at him. Her cheeks were red, her eyes downcast.
Mal put his hand under her chin, gently tilting her head up. "Don't feel shame, love. There's nothing shameful about kissing a man because you enjoy it."
The look in her eyes when she finally met his gaze wasn't shame. It was defiance, and fear.”
― Jennifer Ashley, The Stolen Mackenzie Bride