Everyone Has Secrets. Especially Me.

Phillip Looked To Eloise. "perhaps Introductions Are In Order?" "oh," Eloise Said, Gulping. "yes, Of Course. These Are My Brothers." "i'd Gathered," He Said, His Voice As Dry As Dust. She Shot Him An Apologetic Look, Which, Phillip Thought, Was Really The Least She Could Do After Nearly Getting Him Tortured And Killed, Then Turned To Her Brothers And Motioned To Each In Turn, Saying, "anthony, Benedict, Colin, Gregory. These Three," She Added, Motioning To A, B, And C, "are My Elders. This One"—she Waved Dismissively At Gregory—"is An Infant.

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.

It's The Curse Of Motherhood. You're Required To Love Us Even When We Vex You.

Stirlings Of Old Had Been So Damned Besotted With Their Newfound Earldom That They Couldn't Think To Put Any Other Name On Anything...it Was A Wonder He Didn't Drink Kilmartin Tea And Sit On A Kilmartin-style Chair. In Fact, He Probably Would Be Doing Just That If His Grandmother Had Found A Way To Manage It Without Actually Taking The Family Into Trade.

He Said He Loved Me,” She Whispered. Daniel Swallowed, And He Had The Strangest Sensation, Almost A Premonition Of What It Must Like To Be A Parent. Someday, God Willing, He’d Have A Daughter, And That Daughter Would Look Like The Woman Standing In Front Of Him, And If Ever She Looked At Him With That Bewildered Expression, Whispering, “he Said He Loved Me . . .” Nothing Short Of Murder Would Be An Acceptable Response.