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Quote by William Makepeace Thackeray

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The History of Henry Esmond, Esq.

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William Makepeace Thackeray
William Makepeace Thackeray

William Makepeace Thackeray was a prominent British novelist of the Victorian era, born on July 18, 1811, in India, and died on December 24, 1863. He is known for his satirical and humorous writing style and is considered one of the greatest novelists of the 19th century. His most famous work, 'Vanity Fair', is regarded as a classic of English literature. more

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“It's so beautiful and red." Pippa nodded. "That's the chromium." "The what?" "Chromium. It is an additive in the crystal that turns it red. If it were anything else added... it wouldn't be a ruby. It would be a sapphire." Olivia blinked, and Pippa continued, "It's a common misconception that all sapphires are blue, but that's not the case. They can be any color... green or yellow or pink, even. It depends on the additive. But they're all called sapphires. It's only if they're red that they're called something else. Rubies. Because of the chromium.”

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“She extended her hand. "I'm afraid you have the better of me, sir. I've not made the pleasure of your acquaintance." He gave her proffered hand a long look before meeting her gaze once more, as though giving her the chance to change her mind. "I am Temple." The Duke of Lamont. The murderer. She stepped back, her hand falling involuntarily at the thought before she could stop it. "Oh." His lips twisted in a wry smile. "Now you're wishing you hadn't come here after all." Her mind raced. He wouldn't hurt her. He was Bourne's partner. He was Mr. Cross's partner. It was the middle of the day. People were not killed in Mayfair in the middle of the day. And for all she'd heard about this dark, dangerous man, there wasn't a single stitch of proof that he'd done that which he was purported to have done. She extended her hand once more. "I am Philippa Marbury." One black brow arched, but he took her hand firmly. "Brave girl." "There's no proof that you're what they say." "Gossip is damning enough." She shook her head. "I am a scientist. Hypotheses are useless without evidence." One side of his mouth twitched. "Would that the rest of England were as thorough.”

Logical ThinkingPippa MarburyPhilippa MarburyWilliam Harrow
Book:One Good Earl Deserves a Lover
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“It's just that... since we met, I have been rather... well, fascinated by..." You. Say it, he willed, not entirely certain what he would do if she did, but willing to put himself to the test. She took another breath. "By your bones." Would she ever say anything expected? "My bones?" She nodded. "Yes. Well, the muscles and tendons, too. Your forearms. Your thighs. And earlier- while I watched you drink whiskey- by your hands." Cross had been propositioned many times in his life. He'd made a career of refusing women's requests. But he had never been complimented on his bones. It was the strangest, sexiest confession he'd ever heard. And he had no idea how to respond.”

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“She watched him carefully, riveted to his story, and for one, fleeting moment, he allowed himself to look at her, taking in her unbound hair and her blue eyes- full of knowledge and more understanding than he deserved. He couldn't imagine how he'd ever imagined her ordinary or plain. She was stunning. And if her beauty weren't enough, there was her mind. She was brilliant and quick-witted, and so perfectly different than anyone he'd ever known. Two and two made him. On anyone else's lips it would have been gibberish, but on Pippa's it was the most seductive concept he'd ever considered. She was everything he'd never known he wanted.”

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“Most people think you're odd." She smiled. "On that, most people are right." "You know, I used to think they were. You're brilliant and have a passion for animals and strange flowers, and you were always more interested in the crops that rotated on my estate than in the trappings of my town house. I'd never met a woman like you. But, even as I knew you were smarter than I, even as I knew that you knew that you were smarter than I... you never showed it. You've never given me any reason to believe you thought me simple. You always went out of your way to remind me of the things we had in common. We both prefer the country. We both enjoy animals." He shrugged one shoulder. "I was happy to think that you would one day be my wife." "I don't think you simple," she said, wanting him to know that. Wanting him to understand that this mess she was making had nothing to do with him. He was not lacking. "I think you will make someone a very happy match.”

BrilliantOddPippa MarburyRobert Castleton
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“She looked to Pippa. "Have I made it difficult for you?" Pippa hedged. "Not at all. Castleton sent news to Father just last week that he was planning to court me in earnest, and it's not as though I'm the most ordinary of debutantes." It was an understatement. Pippa was something of a bluestocking, very focused on the sciences and fascinated by the insides of living things, from plants to people. She'd once stolen a goose from the kitchens and dissected it in her bedchamber.”

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“It ain't my problem if the ladies are drawn to me," Digger said. "A gentleman doesn't turn 'em away if they're askin' for a minute or two." His eyes slid to Pippa once more. "Ain't that right, Lady Soon-to-be-a-countess?" "I find it difficult to believe either that ladies are drawn to you or that, in such a case, you would act the part of a gentleman," Pippa retorted.”

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“And Tottenham shan't be able to to resist me in this dress. No man could." "Olivia!" the marchioness said from her place. "That is entirely unladylike." "Why? That is the goal, is it not? To tempt one's husband?" "One does not tempt one's husband!" the marchioness insisted. Olivia's smile turned mischievous. "You must have tempted yours once or twice, Mother." "Oh!" Lady Needham collapsed back against the settee. Madame Hebert turned away from the conversation, waving two girls over to work on Pippa's hem. Olivia winked at Pippa. "Five times, at least." Pippa could not resist. "Four. Victoria and Valerie are twins." "Enough! I can't abide it!" The marchioness was up and through the curtains to the front of the shop, leaving her daughters to their laughter.”

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“I beg your pardon, Mr. Cross, but in this conversation, you are superfluous." He gave her his most frightening stare. "I assure you, I am anything but that." "Am I right in understanding that you have neither the time nor the inclination to speak to me at this particular moment?" She had backed him into a corner. "Yes." She smiled. "There it is, then. As I find myself with both, I believe I shall begin my research now. Without you." She turned her back on him.”

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“Pippa is virtually engaged to Lord Castleton; we expect he'll propose within a matter of days of her return to London." His hand stilled for a moment before continuing its long, slow slide. "How did she and Castleton come to know each other?" She thought of the plain, uninspiring earl. "The same way it happens with anyone, really. Balls, dinners, dancing. He seems nice enough, but... I do not care for the idea of him with Pippa." "Why not?" "Some would say she's peculiar, but she's not. She's simply bookish, loves the sciences. She is fascinated by how things work. He doesn't seem to be able to keep up with her. But, honestly? I don't think she gives a fig one way or another about whether or whom she marries. As long as he has a library and a few dogs, she'll make a happiness of sorts for herself. I only wish she could find someone more... well, I hate to sound cruel, but... intelligent.”

BookishPippa MarburyPhilippa MarburyNot Like Other Girls
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