Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Alana Albertson

Quote by Alana Albertson

“Admittedly, she had recently started to question her father's rules. Her independence and education had afforded her the ability to think for herself and question old principles. And lately, she couldn't help being more combative with her papá. She wanted to challenge his ideologies and stop him from treating his wife and daughters as his property.”

Quote by Alana Albertson

Work

Kiss Me, Mi Amor

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Alana Albertson

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Alana Albertson. more

You May Also Like

“Of course, Papa had the right to remarry. He lost his wife. He was still a young man for a widower. It's only right that he should have wanted to wed again and have more children. No one wants to be alone. What Gerald did not seem to realize, damn him, was how alone Kate had been all those years, growing up on the moors with no companions but the falcons and the wild ponies--- and of course, her books. In silent empathy, Rohan yearned to hold her though she had quickly masked her pain. She seemed all right now; she really was the most resilient, brave, unselfish, and remarkable woman he had ever met. But if she was still hurting, she might not rebuff the offer of his body, the consolation of his lovemaking.”

“Your father ruined my life; you will not ruin my daughter's! I don't give a damn for your rank. You will marry her, do you understand me?" "Papa!" "Stay out of this, girl---" "No, you stay out of it!" she shouted without warning. He looked her up and down in outrage, but Kate's temper snapped. "Leave him alone! I've managed just fine these past many years without a father, so don't think you can come barging into my life and immediately tell me whom to marry!" "Oho, so you do reproach me?" he exclaimed. "I knew it!" "You sailed off and forgot about me!" she cried. "I did not!" "You went on with your life! Your new family. Well, I went on with mine, too," she flung out as the anger burst from her more sharply than she had intended. "Warrington is my lover. So what? Welcome to the world.”

“I'm not interested in your charity, Duke! Remember yesterday?" The dolt had surely had not forgotten her hurling his money at his head. "As for you, Papa, you forfeited the right to pick my husband when you had Charley lie to me and tell me you were dead. So, kill each other if you like. You're both fools, as far as I'm concerned!" With a furious sob, she ran the rest of the way to her cabin, leaving the two oddly similar men behind in an awkward, stymied silence.”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantle: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. 'He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.' 'Did he ever make any for you?' 'He knew better than to do that.' She inhaled a shuddering breath, held it, released it. Let her mind calm. 'I think he would have, if I'd given him the smallest bit of encouragement, but... I never did. I was too angry.' 'You'd have your life overturned. You were allowed to be angry.' 'That's not what you told me the first time we met.' She pivoted to find him arching a brow. 'You told me I was a piece of shit for letting my younger sister go into the woods to hunt while I did nothing.' 'I didn't say it like that.' 'The message was the same.' She squared her shoulders, turning to the small broken cot in the shadows beside the fireplace. 'And you were right.”

“My father slept here for years, letting us have the bedroom. That bed in there... I was born in that bed. My mother died in that bed. I hate that bed.' She ran a hand over the cracking wood of the cot's frame. Splinters snagged at her fingertips. 'But I hate this cot even more. He'd drag it in front of the fire every night and curl up there, huddling under the blankets. I always thought he looked so... so weak. Like a cowering animal. It enraged me. 'Does it enrage you now?' A casual, but careful question. 'It...' Her throat worked. 'I thought him sleeping here was a fitting punishment while we got the bed. It never occurred to me that he wanted us to have the bed, to keep warm and be as comfortable as we could. That we'd only been able to take a few items of furniture from our former home and he'd chosen the bed as one of them. For our comfort. So we didn't have to sleep on cots, or on the floor.' She rubbed at her chest. 'I wouldn't even let him sleep in the bed when the debtors shattered his leg. I was so lost in my grief and rage and... and sorrow, that I wanted him to feel a fraction of what I did.' Her stomach churned. He squeezed her shoulder, but said nothing. 'He had to have known that,' she said hoarsely. 'He had to have known how awful I was, and yet... he never yelled. That enraged me, too. And then he named a ship after me. Sailed it into battle. I just... I can't understand why.' 'You were his daughter.' 'And that's an explanation?' She scanned his face, the sadness etched there. Sadness- for her. For the ache in her chest and the stinging in her eyes. 'Love is complicated.”