As we talked, I had the sense of uncovering something precious and long-buried, fully formed. Our conversation was a process of removing layers, some of them easily dusted away. Other layers, requiring chisels or axes, were left alone for now. We revealed as much as we dared about what had happened during the years that separated us. But it wasn't what I had expected, being with Hardy again. There was something in me that remained stubbornly locked away, as if I were afraid to let out the emotion I had harbored for so long.

Of all the Hathaway sisters,” Cam said equably, “Beatrix is the one most suited to choose her own husband. I trust her judgment.” Beatrix gave him a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Cam.” “What are you thinking?” Leo demanded of his brother-in-law. “You can’t trust Beatrix’s judgment.” “Why not?” “She’s too young,” Leo said. “I’m twenty-three,” Beatrix protested. “In dog years I’d be dead.

Because I realized during the past few days that I can’t leave doubt in anyone’s mind about to whom you belong. Especially not yours.

The audience falls in love with a leading man because he'll never belong to any of them.

Anyone who had ever read a novel knew that governesses were supposed to be meek and downtrodden.

I don't share my body heat indiscriminately.

I’m not short. I’m…vertically disadvantaged.