Page 15: "Phillip looked down at the envelope in his hand, his brows rising at the obviously feminine slat to the handwriting. He dismissed Miles with a nod, then picked up his letter opener and slid it under the wax."

Page 105: ""What is this?" Eloise asked, peering down at eight small clay pots, arranged in a line across his workbench. Phillip walked to her side, absurdly pleased that she seemed curious. "It's an experiment I've been working on," he said, "with peas." "The kind we eat?""

Page 70: "Her decision made, Francesca leapt out of bed and dashed through the cold night air to her nightrobe, which was lying on the back of a chair. She hurried downstairs, her heavy wool socks slipping and sliding on the polished steps."

Page 320: "He'd befuddled her, and she hated it. There was nothing she valued more than a cool and clear head, and Michael had managed to steal that from her... He held up the teapot. "More?'" God yes, and that was the problem."

Page 290: "Hyacinth stabbed her needle into the fabric with perhaps a touch more vigor than was necessary, then looked down at her handiwork with a bit of a snarl. She was an abysmal needle-woman."

Page 375: "It was a necklace. And a bracelet. And while she did not think of herself as the sort of girl who lost her mind over baubles and clothes, OH MY GOD these were the most beautiful things she had ever seen."

Page 97: "Hermione guided Lucy back to their bedchamber, even going so far as to remove Lucy's slippers for her before she lay atop the bed. "If I didn't know you so well," Hermione said, tossing the slippers carelessly into the armoire, "I would think you were faking.""

Page 327: "He tugged her closer and pulled the candlestick from her slackening fingers. "Be with me, Lucy Abernathy. Be my love, be my wife.""

Page 120: "You are truly an exceptional hostess," Simon said, holding out the flowers. "These are for you." "For me?" Violet's mouth fell open in surprise. "Are you certain?" Violet blinked rapidly, and Daphne noticed that there were actually tears in her mother's eyes. No one ever gave her flowers, she realized. At least not since her father had died ten years earlier. Violet was such a mother - Daphne had forgotten she was a woman as well."

Page 244: "He held out a jeweler's box. "This is for you." Her breath caught in her throat as she reached for the small, velvet-colored box. Nestled in the box was a stunning band of white gold, adorned with a large marquis-cut emerald, flanked on either side by a single, perfect diamond."

Page 402: "And in a small, elegantly furnished chamber, not so very far from Hastings House. a young woman sat at her desk with a quill and pot of ink and pulled out a piece of paper. With a smile on her face, she set her quill to paper and wrote: Lady Whistledown's Society Papers, 19 December 1817. Ah Gentle Reader, This Author is pleased to report..."

Page 140: "Before she had a chance to react, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key to the study, and tossed it in her direction, deliberately aiming at her feet. Kate remained motionless for far longer than he would have thought, obviously loath to kneel before him, even if it was to gather up the key that would provide her with the escape she so obviously desired. Abruptly, she crouched down and scooped up the key."

Page 279: "Kate nodded and picked up the pot to pour. She tipped it about an inch, then righted it, frowning as she said, "I don't even know how you take your tea." Anthony cleared his throat as he watched her pour. She wasn't wearing gloves, and he found he liked to watch her hands while she worked. Anthony grasped the saucer, allowing his gloved fingers to brush against her bare ones."

Page 342: "Anthony drained the cup. "Is there enough tea left for me to have another cup?""

Page 152: "And most intriguing, leaning against the side of the desk was a large sketchbook filled with pencil drawings, mostly of landscapes but with a few portraits as well. Had Benedict drawn them? With a sigh, Sophie flipped until she reached the end of the book. The very last sketch was different from the rest, if only because it appeared to be of a night scene, and the woman in it was holding her skirt above her ankles as she ran across - Good God! Sophie gasped, thunderstruck. It was her!"

Page 258: "With all her work done, Sophie decided to take a short break and read in the garden. Lady Bridgerton had told her that she might borrow freely from her small library of books, so Sophie selected a recently published novel and settled herself into a wrought-iron chair on the small patio."

Page 344: "She tugged frantically at the blindfold. With one, wrenching movement, she somehow managed to yank down the scarves until they hung loosely around her neck"