I Didn't Think I Should Die But

He Ought To Buy Her A New Dress. She Would Never Accept It, Of Course, But Maybe If Her Current Garments Were Accidentally Burned... ...but How Could He Manage To Burn Her Dress? She'd Have To Not Be Wearing It, And That Posed A Certain Challenge In And Of Itself.

I'm Not A Gentle Pony... I Promise You, You Will Have To Work To Keep Your Seat.

Gregory,” She Said, “you Cannot Leave Me Here. What If Someone Finds You And Removes You From The House? Who Will Know I Am Here? And What If…and What If…and Then What If…” He Smiled, Enjoying Her Officiousness Too Much To Actually Listen To Her Words. She Was Definitely Herself Again. “when This Is All Over,” He Said, “i Shall Bring You A Sandwich.” That Stopped Her Short. “a Sandwich? A Sandwich?

He Gave Her A Sly, Sideways Look. "did You Bring It?" "my List? Heavens, No. What Can You Be Thinking?" His Smile Widened. "i Brought Mine." Daphne Gasped. "you Didn't!" "i Did. Just To Torture Mother. I'm Going Peruse It Right In Front Of Her, Pull Out My Quizzing Glass—" "you Don't Have A Quizzing Glass." He Grinned—the Slow, Devastatingly Wicked Smile That All Bridgerton Males Seemed To Possess. "i Bought One Just For This Occasion." "anthony, You Absolutely Cannot. She Will Kill You. And Then, Somehow, She'll Find A Way To Blame Me." "i'm Counting On It.

Let Me Drive," She Said, Reaching For The Reins. He Turned To Her In Disbelief. "this Is A Phaeton, Not A Single-horse Wagon." Sophie Fought The Urge To Throttle Him. His Nose Was Running, His Eyes Were Red, He Couldn't Stop Coughing, And Still He Found The Energy To Act Like An Arrogant Peacock. "i Assure You," She Said Slowly, "that I Know How To Drive A Team Of Horses.