Phillip looked to Eloise. "Perhaps introductions are in order?" "Oh," Eloise said, gulping. "Yes, of course. These are my brothers." "I'd gathered," he said, his voice as dry as dust. She shot him an apologetic look, which, Phillip thought, was really the least she could do after nearly getting him tortured and killed, then turned to her brothers and motioned to each in turn, saying, "Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Gregory. These three," she added, motioning to A, B, and C, "are my elders. This one"—she waved dismissively at Gregory—"is an infant.

And what renders him so unmarriageable?” Eloise asked. Francesca leveled a serious stare at her older sister. Eloise was mad if she thought she should set her cap for Michael. “Well?” Eloise prodded. “He could never remain faithful to one woman,” Fran-cesca said, “and I doubt you‟d be willing to put up with infidelities.” “No,” Eloise murmured, “not unless he‟d be willing to put up with severe bodily injury.

Did you know I have always suspected that men were idiots," Daphne ground out, "but I was never positive until today.

Any man, you'll soon learn, has an insurmountable need to blame someone else when he is made to look a fool.

No words for the passion. No words for the need.No words for the sheer epiphany of the moment.And so, on an otherwise unremarkable Friday afternoon, in the heart of Mayfair, in a quiet drawing room on Mount Street, Colin Bridgerton kissed Penelope Featherington.And it was glorious.

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.

If one didn't have love, was it better, then, to be alone?