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Christy English Books

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“The warm sun caught in the green of the leaves overhead, setting dappled shadow to dance across her face as Pembroke held her in his arms. He waltzed with her over the uneven ground as if tree roots and broken leaves did not exist, as if they were alone in a world of their own making. He stopped suddenly but did not let her go. He held her close so that she could feel the heat of his body against hers and the beat of his heart. "I had better stop," he said. "There are no Almack's ladies to keep me on my best behavior here." "I find I like your roguish ways, Raymond. Feel free to practice them on me anytime you wish.”

“She knew that he loved her, but she also knew that he meant to tempt her to abandon her future, and to join her life to his. But she had been married once already. A wife belonged body and soul to her husband. She did not exist under the law but could be put away or ignored at his will. She could be cut off without a penny, no matter what dowry she brought to the match. A wife was nothing, a nonentity, a ghost. As much as she loved Pembroke, as much as she always would, she was alive. She had fought hard for her life, and she would keep it.”