Her chances of a decent marriage were about to be dashed-and all because of a ferret.

I’ve told you before, I love like a madman,” he said. “Immoderate, jealous, possessive...I’m absolutely intolerable.

I've never known anyone more ill equipped for happiness. He wouldn't know what to do with it.

My prize, my pleasure and pain, my endless desire. I've never know anyone like you.

It’s impossible,” he snapped. “Why?” “Because I’m Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent. I can’t be celibate. Everyone knows that.

I’ve lost someone, too. And there were no rules for how to deal with the death of someone you loved. You had to accept that the loss would always stay with you, like a reminder note pinned to the inside of your jacket. But there were still opportunities for happiness. Even joy.

Well, I find a strange comfort in the fact that he wouldn't feel this degree of animosity now, had he not loved me so much before.