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His brows rose. “And how is it that you have come to be such an expert on scrapes and bruises?” “I’m a governess,” she said. Because really, that ought to be explanation enough.

Julia Quinn

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Julia Quinn
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: January 12
Author
Writer
Evergreen State
Julie Cotler
Julie Pottinger
Enough
Bruises
Really
Brows
Expert
Experts
Explanation
Rose
Ought
Come
Scrapes

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And if you say that's because you lot barged into her home like a herd of mentally deficient sheep, I'm disowning all three of you.
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People will think you're courting me.' 'Nonsense, everyone knows I don't court respectable women.
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There were rules among friends, commandments, really, and the most important one was Thou Shalt Not Lust After Thy Friend's Sister.
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Everyone has secrets. Especially me.
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As his hands moved to his trousers, he saw that she was pulling the bedsheets over her. Don't, he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Her eyes met his, and he said, I'll be your blanket.
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Deep inside, she knew who she was, and that person was smart and kind and often even funny, but somehow her personality always got lost somewhere between her heart and her mouth, and she found herself saying the wrong thing or, more often, nothing at all.
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He sucked his lips in an attempt not to laugh. Aren't you Spanish? She raised one arm in a salute. Viva la Queen Isabella! I see. Then why are you speaking with a French accent?
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To call that writing, madam, is an insult to quills and ink across the world.
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I'm not a gentle pony... I promise you, you will have to work to keep your seat.
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You have to live each hour as if it's your last and each day as if you were immortal. - Kate Sheffield
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In three days, he continued, I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means? You'll save me from marauding minotaurs?
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She smelled like England, of soft rain and sun-kissed meadows. And she felt like the best kind of heaven. He wanted to wrap himself around, bury himself within her, and stay there for all of his days. He hadn’t had a drop to drink in three years, but he was intoxicated now, bubbling with a lightness he’d never thought to feel again.
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I thought you wanted food, she gasped. I do, he murmured, tugging on the bodice of her dress. But I want you more.
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He'd been waiting for a love fraught with passion and drama it hadn't even occurred to him that true love might be something that was utterly comfortable and just plain easy.
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Nothing like trapping the gentlemen where they couldn't get away.
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Have you seen Frances?” He tilted his head to the right. “I believe she’s off rooting about in the bushes.” Anne followed his gaze uneasily. “Rooting?” “She told me she was practicing for the next play.” Anne blinked at him, not following. “For when she gets to be a unicorn.” “Oh, of course.” She chuckled. “She is rather tenacious, that one.
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In his heart, she’d been smiling for him. But now she was smiling at Colin Bridgerton, he of the famous charm and sparkling green eyes.
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He didn’t know where the thought had come from, or what strange corner of his brain had come to that conclusion, because he was quite certain it would be nearly impossible to live with her, but somehow he knew that it wouldn’t be at all difficult to love her.
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Mother,” Hyacinth said with a great show of solicitude, “you know I love you dearly—” “Why is it,” Violet pondered, “that I have come to expect nothing good when I hear a sentence beginning in that manner?
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Nonetheless, I can't help but be flattered that you noticed the latest addition to my collection, he said. She rolled her eyes. Because personal injuries are such a dignified thing to collect. Are all governesses so sarcastic?
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