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Devil in Disguise

Book by Lisa Kleypas · 32 quotes · Merritt Sterling, Keir Macrae, Merritt And Keir

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Devil in Disguise Quotes

“Although a stream of cheerful postcards and letters had arrived from Evie for the past three weeks, they were a poor substitute for the sound of her voice, and her good morning kisses, and the quirks only a husband would know about. The adorable way her toes would wiggle in her sleep whenever he touched her foot. And the way she would bounce a little on her heels when she was especially happy or excited about something. God, he needed her back in his bed. He needed it soon.”

QuirksSebastian KingstonEvangeline And SebastianEvangeline KingstonMissing A Loved One
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“Before they even reached the front door, it opened and a small, silver-gray terrier came bounding out. He stopped a few yards away from Merritt and growled. "Hello, Wallace," she said with a faint smile, and stood still as he came to her. The terrier circled around her, sniffing at her skirts. In a moment he gazed up at her with bright eyes and a wagging tail, and let her pet him. "What a handsome boy you are," she exclaimed, smoothing his fur.”

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“She watched with amusement as Wallace paced restlessly around the overloaded settee, obviously trying to calculate how he too could sit there. "Wallace," Keir said dryly, "I dinna know where you think you'll find a blessed inch of empty space." The terrier persisted, however, hopping up near their feet and painstakingly crawling over their bodies. "Wallace will come to London with us, of course," Merritt said, reaching out swiftly to steady the dog as he wobbled.”

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“I've roasted in a hell of sexual deprivation since you abandoned me." "Abandoned?" she repeated in surprise. He gave her a severe glance. "You vanished in the middle of the night." "It was morning," she protested. "Without saying a word about where you were going." "You arranged for the t-tickets!" "I didn't even have a chance to say good-bye." "You did," Evie protested. "You took two hours, and nearly made me miss the train." Sebastian muffled a quiet laugh against her glowing curls. "Oh, yes. I remember that part.”

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“Now that you've taken charge of me, milady, what's your next command?" The question was casual, with a hint of friendly teasing. But she was stunned by the reservoir of feeling he'd unlocked in her, so vast she was drowning in it. A feeling of pure longing. And until this moment, she'd never even known it was there. She tried to think of some clever reply. But the only thing her mind could summon was something impulsive and silly. Kiss me. She would never say something so brazen, of course. It would appear desperate or mad, and it would embarrass both of them. And for a business owner to behave in such an unprofessional manner with a customer- well, that didn't bear thinking of. But as Merritt saw his blank expression, a horrid realization made something inside her plunge. "Oh, God," she said faintly, her fingers flying to her mouth. "Did I say that out loud?”

Kiss MeMerritt And KeirOut Loud
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“He was especially charmed by the two youngest Challons, Ivo and Seraphina, both of them engaging and warm, but also possessing their father's knack for a perfectly timed witticism- a bon mot, Merritt called it. They asked countless questions about Islay, his friends, his dog, and the distillery, and they entertained him with stories of their own. To Keir's relief, neither of them seemed to have difficulty accepting him as a half brother, despite the vast differences in their ages. They had been brought up in an environment filled with so much abundance, it didn't occur to them to feel threatened by anyone. The Challons were nothing like the noble families Keir had heard of, in which the children were raised mostly by servants and seldom saw their parents. These people were close and openly affectionate, with no trace of aristocratic stuffiness. Keir thought that was in no small part due to the duchess, who made no pretense about the fact that her father had made his start as a professional boxer. Evie was the anchor who kept the family from drifting too far in the dizzying altitude of their social position. It was at her insistence that the children had at least a passing acquaintance with ordinary life. For example, it was one of Ivo's chores to wash the dog, and Seraphina sometimes accompanied the cook to market to talk with local tradespeople.”

Family LoveKeir MacraeChallonsIvo ChallonSeraphina ChallonIvo JennerEvangeline KingstonHalf SiblingsSetting Examples
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“Merritt was about to reply, but she froze, her hand suspended in midair. The window happened to be positioned to mirror the opening of the next room with remarkable clarity. The naked form of Keir MacRae was reflected in the glass as he crossed the bedroom. She went hot and cold all over, riveted as he bent to take a pair of trousers from the leather trunk. His movements were easy, graceful with a sense of coiled power, and that body- "You're going to work through the night without any dinner at all?" she heard herself ask. -with those long, elegant expanses of tightly knit muscle and sinew- "I'll be fine," he said. -was magnificent. Fantasy wrought into flesh. And just before he fastened the trousers, she couldn't help noticing the man was incredibly endowed.”

Keir MacraeNaked ManSexy Body
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“After another forty-five minutes, the train reached the station at Heron's Point, a seaside town located in the sunniest region in England. Even now in autumn, the weather was mild and clear, the air humid with healthful sea breezes. Heron's Point was sheltered by a high cliff that jutted far out into the sea and helped to create the town's own small climate. It was an ideal refuge for convalescents and the elderly, with a local medical community and an assortment of clinics and therapeutic baths. It was also a fashionable resort, featuring shops, drives and promenades, a theatre, and recreations such as golf and boating. The Marsdens had often come here to stay with the duke's family, the Challons, especially in summer. The children had splashed and swum in the private sandy cove, and sailed near the shore in little skiffs. On hot days they had gone to shop in town for ices and sweets. In the evenings, they had relaxed and played on the Challons' back veranda, while music from the town band floated up from the concert pavilion. Merritt was glad to bring Keir to a familiar place where so many happy memories had been created. The seaside house, airy and calm and gracious, would be a perfect place for him to convalesce.”

Childhood MemoriesMerritt SterlingResortMarsdensChallonsSeasideHerons Point
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“Keir had never suspected it was possible for a woman to wear so much clothing. After they'd gone to Merritt's bedroom, he'd unfastened the back of her velvet dress and she'd stepped out of it to reveal a profusion of... Christ, he didn't know the names for them... frilly lace-trimmed undergarments that fastened with tiny hooks, ribbons, and buttons. They reminded him of the illustrations pasted on the walls of the Islay baker's shop, of wedding cakes decorated with sugar lace and marzipan pearls, and flowers made of icing. He adored the sight of her in all those pretty feminine things.”

FeminineLingerieUndressingMerritt SterlingKeir MacraeFrilly
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“Hoagland," Kingston said in a voice like expensive liquor on ice, "it's good to see you. Your son is better, I trust?" "You're very kind to ask, Your Grace. Yes, he's recovered fully from his tumble. The poor lad's grown so fast, he hasn't yet learned to manage those long arms and legs. A rackabones, my wife calls him." "My boy Ivo is the same. He's shot up like a weed of late." "Will he grow as tall as your other two sons, do you expect?" "By force of will, if necessary," the duke replied dryly. "Ivo has informed me he has no intention of being the youngest and the shortest.”

Sebastian KingstonIvo ChallonPhysical Growth
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“He was a good-looking man with black hair and dark blue eyes, his handsomeness agreeably roughened by a scar or two, and a nose that had once been broken. He had the perpetually vigilant gaze of a man who was all too familiar with the more dangerous streets and rookeries of London. But when he was among family and friends, he had a quiet, relaxed charm that Merritt liked immensely. As the illegitimate son of the late Earl of Trenear, Ethan was the most enigmatic member of the Ravenel family. Very little was known about his past, and he preferred to keep it that way. However, he was good friends with West Ravenel, who was married to Merritt's best friend, Phoebe, and Phoebe had told her a great deal about him. "Ethan once worked as a government agent," Phoebe had said. "He was part of an intelligence force that was secretly funded by the Home Office. It had something to do with espionage and foreign intelligence, and one's better off not asking too many questions about it. But Ethan was a highly trained agent.”

Ethan RansomRavenelDangerous BeautyGovernment AgentHighly Trained
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“Phoebe left a note asking me to go through our family genealogy books to see if we had any Scottish ancestors. She found none on your mother's side at all, and she said you'd be disappointed if there were none on Father's side." Surprised and touched by both sisters' concern, Keir shook his head with a smile. "Dinna worry about that, Seraphina. I decided 'tis enough to be Scottish in my heart." "Still, you wouldn't mind if I told you we have some Scottish blood, would you?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. "Because I've discovered that we do in fact have a Scot in our family tree! It's been overlooked because he's not in our direct line. I had to trace the connection through some female ancestors instead of going only through the male lineage. But we are very clearly indisputably descended from a Scot who was our great-great-great-great-great... well, let's say eighteen-times-great... grandfather. And just see who it is!" Seraphina unfolded the parchment, which was inscribed with a long vertical chart of connected names. And at the top- ROBERT I King of Scots "Robert the Bruce?" Keir could feel his heart expanding in his chest. "Yes," Seraphina said gleefully, leaping up and bouncing on her heels. Keir stood, laughing, and bent to kiss her cheek. "One drop of Robert the Bruce's blood will do the job. I could no' be happier. Thank you, sister." He tried to hand the chart back to her, but she shook her head. "Keep that if you like. Isn't it wonderful news? I have to go tell Ivo we're Scottish!" She left the room triumphantly.”

ScottishKeir MacraeChallonsSeraphina ChallonHalf SiblingsFamily Lineage
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“Later, when there's an opportunity, I want to introduce you to your two remaining siblings. You would enjoy their company. You and Gabriel, in particular, are much alike in temperament. He married into the Ravenel family, and his wife is a thoroughly charming woman---" "Oh, Pandora is my favorite!" came a new voice from the doorway, and they both glanced at the threshold where Seraphina was standing. "She's very witty and fun, and a bit odd in the nicest possible way." With her slender form clad in a green dress, and her brilliant golden-red hair trailing over her shoulder in a thick braid, she reminded Keir of a mermaid.”

Pandora RavenelGabriel St VincentChallonsSeraphina Challon
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“You're a beautiful man," she said a bit bashfully. Her touch sent a thrill of pleasure through him. He had to steel every muscle to keep from arching against her hand. It was indecent, how much he wanted her. In a hushed voice he replied, "'Tis glad I am you find me so, darlin'. But there's nothing in the world half so braw and lovely as you." "Braw?" "Something very fine. You're braw like sunlight on the sea, or a poem set to music.”

TemptingScottish RomanceMerritt And KeirComplimentingBraw
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“Luke paused before asking hopefully, "Did you say something about sandwiches?" Merritt smiled. "I'll bring a tray to the front parlor." She went to the kitchen, fetched various items from the larder and pantry, and set the teakettle to boil. Although most ladies of her position rarely, if ever, set foot in the kitchen, Merritt had fallen into the habit of making small meals for herself on Cook's days off. It was faster and more convenient than waiting for things to be brought to her, and there was something soothing about puttering in her own kitchen. She made sandwiches with brown bread, ham, and mustard, and added hard-boiled eggs and pickles on the side.”

Merritt SterlingMarsdensSandwich MakingLuke Marsden
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“I've spent nearly three years managing a shipping firm," she pointed out. "After all the time I've spent around longshoremen, nothing could shock me now." "Maybe not," Luke conceded. "But Scotsmen have a special gift for cursing. I had a friend at Cambridge who knew at least a dozen different words for testicles." Merritt grinned. One of the things she enjoyed most about Luke, the youngest of her three brothers, was that he never shielded her from vulgarity or treated her like a delicate flower. That, among other reasons, was why she'd asked him to take over the management of her late husband's shipping company, once she'd taught him the ropes.”

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“Let's not pretend this visit has anything to do with me. You came here hoping for a glimpse of a certain bearded Scotsman." She lowered her voice as she asked, "Did he say anything to you?" "About what?" "About me." "Why, yes, we stopped in the middle of work to gossip over tea. Then we made plans to visit the milliner and try on bonnets together-" "Oh, hush," Merritt whispered sharply, both amused and annoyed.”

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“Luke, who had picked up a sandwich and was in the process of wolfing it down, volunteered with his mouth half full, "Dr. Gibson said the memory loss may be temporary." Nonplussed by her brother's oafish manners, Merritt said, "Dear, why don't you make yourself comfortable on the couch?" Luke gave her an unrepentant glance. "Sis, I know you'd prefer me to sit and eat like a civilized person. But if you knew everything these trousers have been through tonight, you wouldn't want them on your furniture.”

BoyishMarsdensLuke Marsden
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“Tell me, Merritt, if someone you knew were carrying on like this over a stranger- one of our sisters, God forbid- what would you say to her?" At the moment, Merritt didn't feel like justifying her actions to anyone, least of all a younger sibling. But during the past year, she and Luke had formed a working partnership and friendship that made their bond unique. She would tolerate more from him than from nearly anyone else in her life. "I would probably caution her that she was acting impulsively," she admitted, "and advise her to rely on the counsel of those who love her." "All right, then. I'm counseling you to stay in London and let Ransom and Uncle Sebastian decide what to do with MacRae. Whatever it is you feel for him, it's not real. It happened too fast." In her weariness and strain, Merritt's temper had a lower flashpoint than usual. She could feel it beginning to ignite, but she grimly tamped it back down and managed a calm reply. "You may be right," she said. "But someday, Luke... you'll meet someone. And from one breath to the next, everything will change. You won't care whether it makes sense. All you'll know is that a stranger owns your every heartbeat." Luke's mouth twisted. "God, I hope not.”

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“Although Keir would always prefer his island to anywhere else in the world, he had to admit this place had its own magic. There was a softness about the air and the sun, a trance of mist that made everything luminous. Lowering to his haunches, he ran his palm back and forth over the fine golden sand, so different from the caster-sugar grains of the beaches on Islay. At Merritt's quizzical glance, he dusted his hands and smiled crookedly. "'Tis quiet," he explained. "On the shore near my home, it sings." "The sand sings?" Merritt asked, perplexed. "Aye. When you move it with your foot or hand, or the wind blows over it, the sand makes a sound. Some say it's more like a squeak, or a whistle." "What makes it do that?" "'Tis pure quartz, and the grains are all the same size. A scientist could explain it. But I'd rather call it magic." "Do you believe in magic?" Keir stood and smiled into her upturned face. "No, but I like the wonderments of life. Like the ghost fire that shines on a ship's mast at storm's end, or the way a bird's instinct leads him to the wintering grounds each year. I enjoy such things better for no' understanding them." "Wonderments," Merritt repeated, seeming to relish the word.”

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“Her voice faded as she realized the girl was mesmerized by Keir MacRae to the exclusion of all else. One could hardly blame her. Keir looked like a drowsing lion in the firelight, all tawny and golden. His loose-limbed posture was unconsciously graceful, with the edge of the blanket dipping enough to reveal the broad winged shape of his collarbone and the sharply hewn musculature of his chest and shoulders. Flickers of firelight played among the newly shorn locks of his hair, picking out streaks of champagne and topaz. He could have been a young Arthur, a warrior-king just returned from battle.”

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“After you told me about the shirt cuff, I told you about the time I spilled ink on a map in my father's study." He shook his head, baffled. "It was a rare two-hundred-year-old map of the British Isles," Merritt explained. "I'd gone into my father's study to play with a set of inkwell bottles, which I'd been told not to do. But they were such tempting little etched glass bottles, and one of them was filled with the most resplendent shade of emerald green you've ever seen. I dipped a pen in it, and accidentally dribbled some onto the map, which had been spread out on his desk. It made a horrid splotch right in the middle of the Oceanus Germanicus. I was standing there, weeping with shame, when Papa walked in and saw what had happened." "What did he do?" Keir asked, now looking interested. "He was quiet at first. Waging a desperate battle with his temper, I'm sure. But then his shoulders relaxed, and he said in a thoughtful tone, 'Merritt, I suspect if you drew some legs on that blotch, it would make an excellent sea monster.' So I added little tentacles and fangs, and I drew a three-masted ship nearby." She paused at the flash of Keir's grin, the one that never failed to make her a bit light-headed. "He had it framed and hung it on the wall over his desk. To this day, he claims it's his favorite work of art." Amusement tugged at one corner of his mouth. "A good father," he commented.”

Best FatherChildhood MemoryMerritt SterlingKeir MacraeMarcus Westcliff
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“They walked past offerings displayed on trestle boards and tables... puddings, sliced beef, boiled eggs, paper scoops filled with pickles, olives, salted nuts, or hot green peas glistening with bacon fat. There were roasted potatoes wrapped in waxed paper, crisp slivers of fried fish, smoked oysters crusted with salt, and cones of hardbake sweetmeats or brandy balls. Just a few minutes earlier, Keir had been willing to overlook his hunger in favor of more important concerns. Now that he was surrounded by this profusion of food, however, his empty stomach informed him that nothing else would happen until it was filled. Merritt stopped at a stall featuring sandwiches, bread and butter, and cake. "Evenin', milady," the stallkeeper said with a respectful tip of his hat. "Mr. Gamp," she said warmly. "I've brought this gentleman to try the best ham sandwich in London." "Smoked Hampshire ham, that's the secret," the stallkeeper said proudly as he set out a pasteboard box. "That, and the missus bakes the bread herself. Barm-leavened, to make it soft and sweet.”

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“The club was started lang ago by a professional boxer. His daughter married the Duke of Kingston, who owns the place now." Keir, who couldn't have cared less about some doddering old aristocrat, responded with an indifferent shrug. "'Tis no' unusual for a duke to own prime London real estate." "Aye, but the interesting part is, Kingston ran the club himself for a time." To make sure Keir understood the significance, Catach added, "Noblemen never work. To their minds it lowers them, ye ken, and costs them the respect of the common folk as well as their peers." "He must have had no choice," Keir mused. "To be sure. But the duke made Jenner's what it is, and enriched himself in the process." Catach had shaken his head with a mixture of admiration and envy. "A charmed life, that one's had. They say in his youth, Kingston was as wicked as the devil himself. The bane of every man with a pretty wife. Then he married a rich woman and settled into a respectable middle age. For Kingston, the wages of sin have been nothing but gold and treasure." "He sounds like a selfish pult," Keir said flatly.”

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“Let's no' make this langsome, MacTaggart. Lady Merritt is weary, and as you know, I'm no' one to stand on ceremony." "'Tis a haisty affair, aye?" the sheriff observed, some of his good cheer fading as he looked around the room. "No flowers? No candles?" "No, and also no ring," Keir informed him. "Let us say our pledge, give us the certificate, and we'll have done with it in time for supper." MacTaggart clearly didn't appreciate the younger man's cavalier attitude. "You'll be having no signed paper until I make certain 'tis done legal," he said, squaring his shoulders. "First... do ye ken there's a fine if you've no' posted banns?" "'Tis no' a church wedding," Keir said. "The law says without the banns, 'tis a fine of fifty pounds." As Keir gave him an outraged glance, the sheriff added firmly, "No exceptions." "What if I give you a bottle of whisky?" Keir asked. "Fine is waived," MacTaggart said promptly. "Now, then... do the rest of you agree to stand as witnesses?" Ethan and the Slorachs all nodded. "I'll start, then," Keir said briskly, and took Merritt's hand. "I, Keir MacRae, do swear that I--" "No' yet," the sheriff interrupted, now scowling. "'Tis my obligation to ask a few questions first." "MacTaggart, so help me---" Keir began in annoyance, but Merritt squeezed his hand gently. He heaved a sigh and clamped his mouth shut. The sheriff resumed with great dignity. "Are the both of you agreeable to be wed?" "Aye," Keir said acidly. "Yes," Merritt replied.”

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“Keir had watched him with growing interest, having assumed Kingston would toss the unlucky crab aside, maybe fling it toward the sea. Any of Keir's friends would have thought nothing of chucking it into the path of a foraging herring gull. But to show consideration for an insignificant beastie... take the trouble to carry it to a safe place... it revealed something wholly unexpected about the man's character. A regard for the fragile, the vulnerable. Now Keir wasn't sure what to make of Kingston. An aristocrat of staggering wealth and position, notorious for his decadent past... a devoted father and faithful husband... there seemed no way to reconcile those two versions of him. And here was yet another version, a man lounging casually next to a fire on the beach with his dog, his bare feet dusted with sand, as if he were an ordinary human.”

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