I've faced worse than a dressmaker who breaths fire.

Never look back, never forget.

And then what did you do, Lord Oliver?" Karl's eight-year-old daughter gazed up at him in awe, as though this were the best story she had ever heard.

Shaking herself, Petunia looked around. Several of her sisters had been talking to her, but she hadn't heard them. "And that answers our questions about why he gave himself up," Poppy was saying, a smile turning up one corner of her mouth as she looked at Petunia. "Now if everyone could please avoid saying his name [Oliver], so that Petunia doesn't drift off again...?

Marianne's mouth was open in surprise, but Poppy looked murderous. She clutched her reticule as though it contained a weapon. Realizing that it probably held some very sharp knitting needles, Christian reflected that it did.

Sire," Oliver said as he helped Petunia to her feet, "I'd like to marry Petunia. "Of course you would," retorted the King Gregor. "But not right now! we just got those two taken care of." He pointed to the twins who were still trying to play Christian's odd game. "And weddings are expensive!

Oliver's heart tried to pound its way out of his ribcage, but he ignored it. "I'm in love with Petunia," he announced. "And I want to help her.