She still remembered sitting for hours as a little girl and pretending to be a hassock. A foot stool. Because if she could just stay very small, and very quiet, her mother would forget she was there, and then she wouldn't scream about people and places and things that had gone wrong.

Piers looked up at him. 'You're new. What's your name?' 'Neythen, my lord.' 'Sounds like a terrible illness. No, more like a bowel problem. I'm sorry, Lord Sandys, your son has contracted neythen and won't live a month. No, no, there's nothing I can do. Sandys would have preferred hearing that to syphilis.

I do believe that his given name is something odd. Peregrine, Penrose- Piers, that's it." "He sounds like a dock." Lord Sundron put in. "Mrs. Hutchins called me a light frigate this morning," Linnet said "a dock might be just the thing for me.

I have six illegitimate children," Villiers informed her, not kindly. She visibly paled. :My daughter is marrying a duke," the duchess said between clenched teeth. "True, he apparently has the morals of a squirrel, but that's my cross to bear.

I never did learn how to live in the moment, but I did learn that moments could be wasted and the world would continue to spin on its axis.

Dogs do tricks. Cats play tricks.

One more time, she promised herself. That wasn't too trollopy. She wouldn't be too trollopy. But when they actually got to the guardhouse? Trollopy.