Sir Richard sighed. "Rid yourself of the notion that I cherish any villainous designs upon your person," he said. "I imagine I might well be your father. How old are you?" "I am turned seventeen." "Well, I am nearly thirty," said Sir Richard. Miss Creed worked this out. "You couldn't possibly be my father!" "I am far too drunk to solve arithmetical problems. Let it suffice that I have not the slightest intention of making love to you.
Georgette HeyerNevertheless, she did not weep, because, for one thing, it would have made her eyes red, and another, it would be of very little use.
Georgette HeyerYou may have married her, but she is mine. Do you think I shall let you take her? She may be ten times your wife, but, by God, you shall never have her.
Georgette HeyerYou know what I think? Fate! That's what it is fate! There's a thing that comes after a fellow:got a name,but I forgot what it is. Creeps up behind him, and puts him in the basket when he ain't expecting it.
Georgette HeyerIt has always seemed to me that if one falls in love with any gentleman one becomes instantly blind to his faults.But I am not blind to your faults, and I do not think that everything you do or say is right! OnlyโIs it beingโnot very comfortableโand crossโand not quite happy, when you arenโt there?โ โThat, my darling,โ said his lordship,taking her ruthlessly into his arms,โis exactly what it s!โ โOhโ!โ Frederica gasped, as she emerged from an embrace which threatened to suffocate her. โNow I know! I am in love!
Georgette HeyerDepend upon it, you are just the sort of girl a man would be glad to have for his sister! You don't even know how to swoon, and I daresay if you tried you would make wretched work of it, for all you have is common sense, and of what use is that, pray?
Georgette HeyerMiss Grantham's sense of humour got the better of her at this point, and, tottering towards a chair, she sank into it, exclaiming in tragic accents:'Oh Heavens! I am betrayed!' His lordship blenched; both he and miss Laxton regarded her with guilty dismay. Miss Grantham buried her face in her handkerchief, and uttered one shattering word: 'Wretch!
Georgette Heyer