As Marcus considered various ways to open the subject of Daisy, Swift surprised him with a blunt statement. “My lord, there is something I would like to discuss with you.” Marcus adopted a pleasantly encouraging expression. “Very well.” “It turns out that Miss Bowman and I have reached an…understanding. After considering the logical advantages on both sides, I have made a sensible and pragmatic decision that we should—” “How long have you been in love with her?” Marcus interrupted, inwardly amused. Swift let out a tense sigh. “Years,” he admitted.

For thousands of nights I dreamed of making love to you. No man on earth has ever hated sunrise as I do.

Was this some new level of depravity? Had he developed a spinster fetish?

Please come to me, Cat, because there's no surviving you. You don't have to love me back. You don't have to be mine. Just let me be yours.

I love you enough for the both of us. And there must be something about me worth loving. If you would just try.

Pity goes hand in hand with contempt. Don't ever forget that, Liberty. You can't take handouts or help from anyone, because that gives people the right to look down on you.

He was so far from the gallant knights in her romantic fantasies ... He was tarnished, scarred, imperfect. Deliberately he had destroyed any illusions she might have had about him, exposing his mysterious past for the ugly horror that it was. His purpose had been to drive her away. But instead she felt closer to him, as if the truth had bonded them in a new intimacy.