Chasing Cassandra Quotes

“I'm asking you to tell Lady Cassandra about my good qualities as well as the bad ones."
"What good qualities?" West inquired sharply.
Tom had to think for a moment. "How rich I am?”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“But that would mean it was originally a sideways number eight. That makes no sense at all. Unless..." She paused as understanding dawned. "You think it was the symbol for infinity?"
"Yes, but not the usual one. A special variant. Do you see how one line doesn't fully connect in the middle? That's Euler's infinity symbol. Absolutus infinitus."
"How is it different from the usual one?"
"Back in the eighteenth century, there were certain mathematical calculations no one could perform because they involved series of infinite numbers. The problem with infinity, of course, is that you can't come up with a final answer when the numbers keep increasing forever. But a mathematician named Leonhard Euler found a way to treat infinity as if it were a finite number- and that allowed him to do things in mathematical analysis that had never been done before." Tom inclined his head toward the date stone. "My guess is whoever chiseled that symbol was a mathematician or scientist."
"If it were my date stone," Cassandra said dryly, "I'd prefer the entwined hearts. At least I would understand what it means."
"No, this is much better than hearts," Tom exclaimed, his expression more earnest than any she'd seen from him before. "Linking their names with Euler's infinity symbol means..." He paused, considering how best to explain it. "The two of them formed a complete unit... a togetherness... that contained infinity. Their marriage had a beginning and end, but every day of it was filled with forever. It's a beautiful concept." He paused before adding awkwardly, "Mathematically speaking.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Hearts don't start out frozen," Cassandra said wisely. "Something happened to you."
Mr. Severin gave her a slightly mocking glance. "How do you know so much about the heart?"
"I've read novels-" Cassandra began earnestly, and was disgruntled to hear his quiet laugh. "Many of them. You don't think a person can learn things from reading novels?"
"Nothing that actually applies to life." But the blue-green eyes contained a friendly sparkle, as if he found her charming.
"But life is what novels are about. A novel can contain more truth than a thousand newspaper articles or scientific papers. It can make you imagine, just for a little while, that you're someone else- and then you understand more about people who are different from you."
The way he listened to her was so very flattering, so careful and interested, as if he were collecting her words like flowers to be pressed in a book. "I stand corrected," he said. "I see I'll have to read one.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“I’ll marry you,” Tom told her. “Any time. Any terms.”

West gently nudged Cassandra toward the door. “Go, darling, while I talk with the insane man.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Your body isn't an ornament designed for other people's pleasure. It belongs to you alone. You're magnificent just as you are. Whether you lose weight or gain more, you'll still be magnificent. Have a cake if you want one."
Cassandra looked patently disbelieving. "You're saying if I gained another stone, or even two stones, on top of this, you'd still find me desirable?"
"God, yes," he said without hesitation. "Whatever size you are, I'll have a place for every curve."
She gave him an arrested stare, as if he'd spoken in a foreign language and she was trying to translate.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“You can say whatever you like to me. I'm your oyster."
Before she could restrain herself, an appalled giggle escaped her. "Please don't say that. You're no such thing."
"You can choose another word, if you like." Mr. Severin extended his arm to escort her downstairs. "But the fact is, if you ever need anything- any favor, any service, large or small- I'm the one to send for. No questions asked. No obligations attached. Will you remember that?"
Cassandra hesitated before taking his arm. "I'll remember." As they proceeded to the first floor, she asked in bewilderment, "But why would you make such a promise?"
"Haven't you ever liked someone or something right away, without knowing exactly why, but feeling sure you would discover the reasons later?"
She couldn't help smiling at that, thinking, Yes, as a matter of fact. Just now. But it would be too forward to say so, and besides, it would be wrong to encourage him. "I would be glad to call you a friend, Mr. Severin. But I'm afraid marriage will never be a possibility. We don't suit. I could please you only in the most superficial ways."
"I would be happy with that," he said. "Superficial relationships are my favorite kind."
A regretful smile lingered at her lips. "Mr. Severin, you couldn't give me the life I've always dreamed of."
"I hope your dream comes true, my lady. But if it doesn't, I could offer you some very satisfying substitutes."
"Not if you're heart is frozen," Cassandra said.
Mr. Severin grinned at that, and made no reply. But as they neared the last step, she heard his reflective, almost puzzled murmur.
"Actually... I think it just thawed a little.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Maybe if he read enough novels about the problems of fictional people, he might find some clue about how to solve his own.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“West turned his attention back to Cassandra. “Sweetheart, none of us could bear seeing you in a one-sided marriage. Don’t expect Severin to change. You can’t love someone into loving you back.”
“I understand,” Cassandra said. “But even if Tom is never able to return my feelings, he has qualities that make up for it.”
“What qualities?” Devon asked, plainly bewildered. “I’ve always thought I understood you well, but this … you and Severin … it makes no sense to me.”
As Cassandra considered how to explain, she heard Phoebe point out with a touch of amusement, “It’s not that improbable, is it? Mr. Severin is a very attractive man.”
Both Ravenel brothers looked at her blankly.
“Oh, yes,” Kathleen agreed. “Not to mention charming.”
West rolled his eyes and gave Devon a resigned glance. “He’s always had it,” he said flatly. “That thing women like.”
“What thing?” Devon asked.
“The secret, mysterious thing I’ve always wished someone would explain so we could pretend to have it too.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“You can say whatever you like to me. I'm your oyster.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“But life is what novels are about. A novel can contain more truth than a thousand newspaper articles or scientific papers. It can make you imagine, just for a little while, that you’re someone else—and then you understand more about people who are different from you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Tom looked at St. Vincent. “I assume the editor at the Chronicle refused to divulge the writer’s identity?”
St. Vincent looked rueful. “Categorically. I’ll have to find a way to pry it out of him without bringing the entire British press to his defense.”
“Yes,” Tom mused, tapping his lower lip with a fingertip, “they tend to be so touchy about protecting their sources.”
“Trenear,” Lord Ripon said through gritted teeth, “will you kindly throw him out?”
“I’ll see myself out,” Tom said casually. He turned as if to leave, and paused as if something had just occurred to him. “Although … as your friend, Trenear, I find it disappointing that you haven’t asked about my day. It makes me feel as if you don’t care.”
Before Devon could respond, Pandora jumped in. “I will,” she volunteered eagerly. “How was your day, Mr. Severin?”
Tom sent her a brief grin. “Busy. After six tedious hours of business negotiations, I paid a call to the chief editor of the London Chronicle.”
St. Vincent lifted his brows. “After I’d already met with him?”
Trying to look repentant, Tom replied, “I know you said not to. But I had a bit of leverage you didn’t.”
“Oh?”
“I told him the paper’s owner would dismiss him and toss him out on the pavement if he didn’t name the anonymous writer.”
St. Vincent stared at him quizzically. “You bluffed?”
“No, that is what the business negotiations were about. I’m the new owner. And while the chief editor happens to be a staunch advocate for freedom of the press, he’s also a staunch supporter of not losing his job.”
“You just bought the London Chronicle,” Devon said slowly, to make certain he hadn’t misheard. “Today.”
“No one could do that in less than a day,” Ripon sneered.
Winterborne smiled slightly. “He could,” he said, with a nod toward Tom.
“I did,” Tom confirmed, picking idly at a bit of lint on his cuff. “All it took was a preliminary purchase agreement and some earnest money.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“I'll hold you 'til the end of time, if that's all you want from me. But there's so much more I could do for you. I would treasure you. I would-" He broke off, leaning so close she felt as if she were drowning in the tropical azure and ocean green of his eyes. "Marry me, Cassandra- and we'll tell them all to go to hell.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Since Love is a greased pig wasn't a particularly dignified motto, she decided the Latin translation was more elegant: Amor est uncta porcus.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“My goodness, do you take everything so literally?” “I’m an engineer,”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Tom looked at Cassandra. Something in his eyes caused a twinge of heat deep at the pit of her stomach. "I'll do whatever you say," he said.
She could hardly think. It was difficult to wrap her mind around the fact that he was there, bigger than life, that he hadn't forgotten about her, that he'd done all this to defend her. What did it mean? What did he want? "Publish it, please," she faltered. "You..."
"Yes?" Tom prompted softly as she hesitated.
"You bought an entire newspaper business... for my sake?"
Tom thought for a long moment before answering. Now his voice was different than she'd ever heard it, quiet and even a little shaken. "There are no limits to what I would do for you."
Cassandra was speechless.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Mr. Severin, may I ask something personal?"
"Of course."
"Why did you offer to be my oyster?" A hot blush climbed her face. "Is it because I'm pretty?"
His head lifted. "Partly," he admitted without a hint of shame. "But I also liked what you said- that you never nag or slam doors, and you're not looking for love. I'm not either." He paused, his vibrant gaze holding hers. "I think we would be a good match."
"I didn't mean I don't want love," Cassandra protested. "I only meant I'd be willing to let love grow in time. To be clear, I want a husband who could also love me back."
Mr. Severin took his time about replying. "What if you had a husband who, although not handsome, was not altogether bad-looking and happened to be very rich? What if he were kind and considerate, and gave you whatever you asked for- mansions, jewels, trips abroad, your own private yacht and luxury railway carriage? What if he were exceptionally good at..." He paused, appearing to think better of what he'd been about to say. "What if he were your protector and friend? Would it really matter so much if he couldn't love you?"
"Why couldn't he?" Cassandra asked, intrigued and perturbed. "Is he missing a heart altogether?"
"No, he has one, but it's never worked that way.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“After she'd crossed the threshold, Tom said urgently, without thinking, "My lady?"
Slowly she reappeared, peeking at him from behind the doorjamb.
Tom wasn't sure what to say, only that he couldn't let her leave without thinking she was anything less than perfect, exactly as she was.
"You're not too plump," he said gruffly. "The more of you there is in the world, the better."
As far as compliments went, it wasn't exactly eloquent, or even appropriate. But amusement sparkled in the one blue eye that was visible before Cassandra vanished.
Every muscle in his body tensed with the instinct to follow her like a hound on the scent.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Seven is my favorite number," he said.
"Why?"
He nuzzled gently at her stomach. "There are seven colors in a rainbow, seven days of the week, and..." His voice lowered seductively, "...seven is the lowest natural number that can't be represented as the sum of the squares of three integers."
"Mathematics," she exclaimed, laughing breathlessly. "How stirring.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“He handed the garments to her, and began to unknot his necktie. "Wait- take this too."
Cassandra's eyes widened as he began on his shirt cuffs. "How much more clothing do you plan to remove?" she asked uneasily.
Tom grinned, not missing the quick, interested flick of her gaze over him. "I'm only rolling up my sleeves." He paused, his hands going to the top button of his collar. "Although if you insist-"
"No," she said quickly, blushing at his teasing. "That's quite enough."
A warm mist had started to spread through the room, sweating the white tiles. Cassandra's skin was turning luminous from the humid air. Little wisps of hair at her forehead had drawn up into delicate curls he longed to play with.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“You may not know this, but talking about mathematics eliminates any possibility of being kissed in the first place.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“The most dangerous substance on earth is wood pulp flattened into thin sheets. I’d rather face a steel blade than certain pieces of paper”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Mama,” the child exclaimed, breathless and agitated.
Phoebe looked down at him in concern. “Justin, what is it?”
“Galoshes brought me a dead mouse. She dropped it on the floor right in front of me!”
“Oh, dear.” Tenderly Phoebe smoothed his dark, ruffled hair. “I’m afraid that’s what cats do. She thought it was a fine gift.”
“Nanny won’t touch it, and the housemaid screamed, and I had a fight with Ivo.”
Although Phoebe’s younger brother Ivo was technically Justin’s uncle, the boys were close enough in age to play together and quarrel.
“About the mouse?” Phoebe asked sympathetically.
“No, before the mouse. Ivo said there’s going to be a honeymoon and I can’t go because it’s for grownups.” The boy tilted his head back to look up at her, his lower lip quivering. “You wouldn’t go to the honeymoon without me, would you, Mama?”
“Darling, we’ve made no plans to travel yet. There’s too much to be done here, and we all need time to settle in. Perhaps in the spring—”
“Dad wouldn’t want to leave me behind. I know he wouldn’t!”
In the electrified silence that followed, Tom shot a glance at West, who looked blank and startled.
Slowly Phoebe lowered to the ground until her face was level with her son’s. “Do you mean Uncle West?” she asked gently. “Is that what you’re calling him now?”
Justin nodded. “I don’t want him to be my uncle—I already have too many of those. And if I don’t have a dad, I’ll never learn how to tie my shoes.”
Phoebe began to smile. “Why not call him Papa?” she suggested.
“If I did, you’d never know which one I was talking about,” Justin said reasonably, “the one in heaven or the one down here.”
Phoebe let out a breath of amusement. “You’re right, my clever boy.”
Justin looked up at the tall man beside him with a flicker of uncertainty. “I can call you Dad … can’t I? Do you like that name?”
A change came over West’s face, his color deepening, small muscles contorting with some powerful emotion. He snatched Justin up, one of his large hands clasping the small head as he kissed his cheek. “I love that name,” West said unsteadily. “I love it.” The boy’s arms went around his neck.
“Can we go to Africa for our honeymoon, Dad?” he heard Justin ask.
“Yes,” came West’s muffled voice.
“Can I have a pet crocodile, Dad?”
“Yes.”
Phoebe produced a handkerchief from seemingly out of nowhere and tucked it discreetly into one of West’s hands.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“You can say whatever you like to me. I make no moral judgments."
Cassandra was slow to reply, momentarily distracted by his eyes. They were blue with dapples of brilliant green around the pupils, but one eye had far more green than the other.
"Everyone makes judgments," she said in response to his statement.
"I don't. My sense of rights and wrong is different from most people's. You could say I'm a moral nihilist."
"What's that?"
"Someone who believes nothing is innately right or wrong."
"Oh, that's dreadful," she exclaimed.
"I know," he said, looking apologetic.
Perhaps some gently bred young women would have been shocked, but Cassandra was accustomed to unconventional people. She'd grown up with Pandora, whose twisty-turny, hippy-hoppity brain had enlivened an unbearably secluded life. In fact, Mr. Severin possessed a kind of contained energy that reminded her a little of Pandora. One could see it in the eyes, the quicksilver workings of a mind that ran faster than those of other people.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“I might feel sorry for you, Tom, if you weren't such a selfish arse. I've seen you like this before, and I already know where it will lead. This is why you own more houses than you can live in, more horses than you can ride and more paintings than you have walls. For you, disappointment is inevitable. As soon as you obtain the object of your desire, it loses its power to enchant you. Knowing that, do you think Devon or I would ever allow you to court Cassandra?"
"I wouldn't lose interest in my own wife."
"How could it be otherwise?" West asked softly. "All that matters to you is the chase.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“As he turned back to her, Cassandra stood on her toes to kiss him. He claimed his reward immediately, fitting his mouth to hers and taking a long, ardent taste. Her head swam, and she welcomed the exploration of his tongue. He savored and consumed her, with a kiss more aggressive than any he'd given her before. It made her knees weak and turned her bones fluid. Her body listed toward his and was instantly gathered into the hard urgency of his embrace. Desire curled through her in hot tendrils that insinuated themselves in deep, private places. Her throat caught on a whimper of protest as his mouth lifted from hers.
"We'd better start negotiating," he said raggedly. "The first issue is how much time you'll want to spend with me."
"All of it," Cassandra said, and sought his lips again.
Tom chuckled. "I would. I... oh, you're so sweet... no, I'm... God. It's time to stop. Really." He crushed his mouth against her hair to avoid her kisses. "You're about to be deflowered in the library."
"Didn't that already happen?" she asked, and felt the shape of his smile.
"No," he whispered, "you're still a virgin. Albeit slightly more experienced than two days ago." He brought his mouth closer to her ear. "Did you like what I did?"
She nodded, her face turning so hot that she could feel her cheeks throb. "I wanted more."
"I'd like to give you more. As soon as possible.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“I want a companion who’ll go on walks with me, and sit on my lap while I pet him.” “You’ll have me for that.” Cassandra pointed to the contract. “Dog,” she insisted. “I’m afraid it’s nonnegotiable.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“We’d better start negotiating,” he said raggedly. “The first issue is how much time you’ll want to spend with me.” “All of it,” Cassandra said, and sought his lips again. Tom chuckled. “I would. I . . . oh, you’re so sweet . . . no, I’m . . . God. It’s time to stop. Really.” He crushed his mouth against her hair to avoid her kisses. “You’re about to be deflowered in the library.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“I’m sorry, buttercup,” he murmured, cuddling her spent and trembling form against his. “You deserve time and privacy, and consideration. Not to be fondled in the library over the tea service.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Sweetheart," West murmured kindly, "listen to me. There's no need to worry. You'll either meet someone new, or you'll reconsider someone you didn't appreciate at first. Some men are an acquired taste. Like oysters, or Gorgonzola cheese."
She let out a shuddering sigh. "Cousin West, if I haven't married by the time I'm twenty-five... and you're still a bachelor... would you be my oyster?"
West looked at her blankly.
"Let's agree to marry each other someday," she continued, "if no one else wants us. I would be a good wife. All I've ever dreamed of is having my own little family, and a happy home where everyone feels safe and welcome. You know I never nag or slam doors or sulk in corners. I just need someone to take care of. I want to matter to someone. Before you refuse-"
"Lady Cassandra Ravenel," West interrupted, "that is the most idiotic idea anyone's come up with since Napoleon decided to invade Russia."
Her gaze turned reproachful. "Why?"
"Among a dizzying array of reasons, you're too young for me."
"You're no older than Lord St. Vincent, and he just married my twin."
"I'm older than him on the inside, by decades. My soul is a raisin. Take my word for it, you don't want to be my wife."
"It would be better than being lonely."
"What rubbish. 'Alone' and 'lonely' are entirely different things." West reached out to smooth back a dangling golden curl that had stuck against a drying tear track on her cheek. "Now, go bathe your face in cool water, and-"
"I'll be your oyster," Tom broke in.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“More than once, I've seen you talk yourself into the wrong decision by thinking too much. But if you could manage to climb out of that labyrinth of a brain long enough to discover what you want... not what you decide you should want, but what your instinct tells you... you might find what your soul is calling for."
"I don't have a soul. There's no such thing."
Looking exasperated and amused, Winterborne asked, "Then what keeps your brain working and your heart beating?"
"Electrical impulses. An Italian scientist by the name of Galvani proved it a hundred years ago, with a frog."
Firmly, Winterborne said, "I can't speak for the frog, but you have a soul. And I'd say it's high time you paid attention to it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra