And If You Say That's Because You

He Blinked A Few Times, Each Motion So Slow That He Was Never Quite Sure If He’d Get His Eyes Open Again. He Wasn’t Wearing A Shirt. Funny How He Was Only Just Realizing It. Funnier Still That He Couldn’t Seem To Summon Any Concern For Her Maidenly Sensibilities. She Might Be Blushing. He Couldn’t Tell. It Was Too Dark To See. But It Didn’t Matter. This Was Honoria. She Was A Good Egg. A Sensible Egg. She Wouldn’t Be Scarred Forever By The Sight Of His Chest.

Every Unmarried Man Is Looking For A Wife. They Just Don't Always Know It.

When A Man Writes A Romance, The Woman Dies. When A Woman Writes One, It Ends All Tidy And Sweet.

It Was Heaven. Forget Angels, Forget St. Peter And Glittering Harpsichords. Heaven Was A Dance In The Arms Of One's True Love.

Milk?” Lady Bridgerton Asked. “thank You,” Gareth Replied. “no Sugar, If You Please.” “hyacinth Takes Hers With Three,” Gregory Said, Reaching For A Piece Of Shortbread. “why,” Hyacinth Ground Out, “would He Care?” “well,” Gregory Replied, Taking A Bite And Chewing, “he Is Your Special Friend.