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What’s your rank of choice?”Juliet started, nearly spilling her cup of lemonade. “Pardon?”Drake gestured to all the other men in the room. “Every rank from a duke down to a second son who became a vicar is available for your choosing. Any rank strike your fancy?”“I believe you’re incorrect,” she said, looking over all the men in the room. “I see one second son-vicar, one baron―” she turned to him―“one viscount, two earls, and one duke. But alas, no marquis.”His brown eyes lit with mischief. “I’d say that I stand corrected, but I do not. There is a marquis on the premises. If you’d like to dance with him, I’ll see if a servant can fetch him from the nursery.
Rose Gordon
Shocked?” Juliet queried, the light pink tint on her cheeks the only telling sign of her discomfort with the conversation.He nodded. “Yes. I had no idea my little girl knew what fluffies were.”Juliet opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by more misguided innocence from Kate. “They’re the fluffy things Juliet keeps hidden in her dress here and here,” she said proudly, tapping her chest to indicate just where these fluffy objects were located.Patrick blinked. “That’s quite enough, Katie love. Why don’t you go paint some flowers or something. I need to have a word alone with Juliet.
Rose Gordon
A person doesn't know true hurt and suffering until they've felt the pain of falling in love with someone whose affections lie elsewhere.
Rose Gordon
His child. His child with Caroline. Their child. After the things he’d said to her this morning, this would likely be their only child. Would it be a little bespectacled boy who wore his clothes haphazardly and followed his papa around holding a magnifying glass in one hand and notebook in the other? Or would it be a beautiful, dark-haired, blue-eyed girl who was always getting into trouble for dragging the hem of her skirt through the mud while she dug around in the flowerbeds? He smiled at mental image. Most men wished for a boy, but he’d gladly take a little girl who was just like Caroline.
Rose Gordon