She glared at him. "You're doing it again." "What?" "That thing that irritates me." "Smiling?" "Yes. That.

You never get mad,” she said when their server left the table. “Except at me.” “That’s not true,” he said tightly. “Torie can get me going.” “Torie doesn’t count. You were obviously her mother in a previous life.

If I told you, you might be forced to lie about it. Not that you aren't really good at it, but why put an old man in that position?

He could deal with his guilt all by himself. Guilt didn't add up to love, an emotion she was done with forever.

Who needs food? Your smile alone is enough to nourish me for weeks.

For a moment he could have sworn he smelled violets, which was very peculiar, since he had no idea what violets smelled like, except somehow he knew they smelled just like Lady Emma.

I'll take care of my mother," he said grimly. "I love her, but she doesn't run my life." "Yeah, that's what we all say. You. Me. Lucy." She stabbed the stick into the dirt. "These are powerful women. They're sane, they're smart, they rule their worlds, and they love us ferociously. A potent combination that makes it touch to pretend they're normal mothers.