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Felicity,” Mrs. Featherington interurupted, “why don’t you tell Mr. Brdgerton about your watercolors?”For the life of him, Colin couldn’t imagine a less interesting topic (except maybe for Phillipa’s watercolors), but he nonetheless turned to the youngest Featherington with a friendly smile and asked, “And how are your watercolors?”But Felicity, bless her heart, gave him a rather friendly smile herself and said nothing but, “I imagine they’re fine, thank you.

Julia Quinn
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James started to laugh. His chin hurt where she'd smacked him twice, his foot throbbed where she'd stepped on it, and his entire body felt as if he'd swum through a rosebush, which wasn't as far off the truth as it sounded. Yet still he started to laugh.
Julia Quinn
At present, however, with his aching head and queasy stomach, Sebastian was feeling exceedingly resistible. Or if not that, then resistant. Aphrodite herself could descend from the ceiling, floating on a bloody clamshell, naked but for a few well-placed flowers, and he‘d likely puke at her feet.No, no, she ought to be completely naked. If he was going to prove the existence of a goddess, right here in this room, she was damned well going to be naked.He‘d still puke on her feet, though.
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Sebastian got up and walked to the window, resting his forehead against the pane. It was cold outside, and the icy chill pressed up against him through the glass. He liked the sensation. It was big. Grand. The sort of vivid moment that reminded him of his humanity. He was cold, therefore he must be alive. He was cold, therefore he must not be invincible. He was cold, thereforeHe stood back and let out a disgusted snort. He was cold, therefore he was cold. There wasn‘t really much more to it.
Julia Quinn
He closed his eyes. The insides of his eyelids were a brownish black, not at all the same as the thick purple of the night. Darkness had so many colors. It was strange, that, and perhaps a little disquieting. But—―Oh!‖A foot slammed into his left calf, and he opened his eyes just in time to see a woman tumbling backward.Right onto his blanket.He smiled. The gods still loved him.
Julia Quinn
John shrugged. "It always seemed silly to me to desire a woman who cannot converse any better than a sheep."Belle leaned forward, her eyes glittering mischievously. "Really? I would have thought you'd prefer such a woman,considering your difficulty with polite conversation.""Touche, my lady. I cede this round to you.
Julia Quinn
what a sad pair we are," she said. "Surely we can manage a conversation on a topic other than our respective terrible evenings.
Julia Quinn
You don't talk much, do you?" she blurted out."I didn't think there was a need. You seem to be holding up both our ends of the conversation admirably.
Julia Quinn
Miss. My. Wife.
Julia Quinn
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