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.

I have to tell you it was the first time even after all these years of expecting my own death that i truly knew what it meant to die because with you gone there was nothing left for me to live for.

He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. And he needed her now.

I‟m going to kill her,” Francesca said to no one in particular. Which was probably a good thing, as there was no one else present. “Who are you talking to?” Hyacinth demanded. “God,” Francesca said baldly. “And I do believe I have been given divine leave to murder you.” “Hmmph,” was Hyacinth‟s response. “If it was that easy, I‟d have asked permission to eliminate half the ton years ago.” Francesca decided just then that not all of Hyacinth‟s statements required a rejoinder. In fact, few of them did.

Love was the best present of all.

Eloiseis getting married as well.” “Eloise?” Michael asked with some surprise. “Was she even being courted by anyone?” “No,” Francesca said, quickly flipping to the third sheet of her mother‟s letter. “It‟s someone she‟s never met.” “Well, I imagine she‟s met him now,” Michael said in a dry voice.

Felicity," Mrs. Featherington interurupted, "why don't you tell Mr. Brdgerton about your watercolors?" For the life of him, Colin couldn't imagine a less interesting topic (except maybe for Phillipa's watercolors), but he nonetheless turned to the youngest Featherington with a friendly smile and asked, "And how are your watercolors?" But Felicity, bless her heart, gave him a rather friendly smile herself and said nothing but, "I imagine they're fine, thank you.