Quotessence
Home / Topics / Duchess Quotes

Duchess Quotes

Browse 62 quotes about Duchess.

Related topics

Duchess Quotes

“Lady Beatrice's left eye stares boldly at me through the opening of a mask that she holds up to her face. Her light hair is piled half onto the top of her head, the other half arrayed around her shoulders. An unusual ring adorns her right hand, and I zoom in on the portrait to see it more clearly. The ring is a diamond in the shape of an icicle. I return to the Wikipedia article and click on the next image--a painting of Beatrice on the night of her hanging. She is older in this painting, but her blond hair is styled the same as in the earlier, youthful portrait. The painting depicts screaming townspeople snatching at the skirts of her heavy gown as she attempts to flee. Leaves and flowers are woven through her hair, and a long garland drapes across her dress, giving her the appearance of nature itself. I look closer. There is no doubt that I resemble her; our blue eyes, high cheekbones, and ivory skin are all a match. We could be sisters from different eras.”

“For more than a century now, Lady Beatrice Rockford (1811-1850) has been known as "that wicked American" and her husband, the fifth Duke of Wickersham, the victim forced to send her to the gallows. But these roles are ludicrously reversed. The real ugly stain in my family history is my ancestor, the duke who murdered his wife simply because she was capable of something he had never seen. He feared what he didn't understand, and let his fear drive him to evil. Is there anything inherently wrong in having a paranormal talent? More than likely, Lady Beatrice didn't wish for her gift, and with the exception of the burned garden, which she instantly restored, there are no accounts of her ever using her skill to cause any harm. If we misconstrue that which we don't understand as frightening or criminal, then we are lost. But if we recognize differences in others as something beautiful or miraculous---even, or especially, differences as astounding as Lady Beatrice's---then we all win in the end.”

“Lady Beatrice insisted that she was no witch, but an Elemental. This is an unfamiliar term to most, but certainly not one invented by the late duchess. References to Elementalism are found as far back as in Greek mythology and Ancient Egyptian writings. An Elemental is known as a child of nature. Unlike mere humans, they are one with the four elements, able to manipulate the air, earth, water, and fire around them. There are those who find it a frightening concept, but I have interviewed two of the late duchess's acquaintances who profess that she used her gift for good. A Wickersham tenant farmer who was growing destitute from the lack of thriving crops recalls that Lady Beatrice visited his land, and shortly after her departure, the soil came back to life and grew fertile.”

“The imposter's long, sturdy traveling cloak covered plain, dark, modest traveling clothes. Like the duchess, she was tall and well-rounded, and she spoke with the duchess's aristocratic accent. Also like the duchess, she wore her black hair smoothed back from her face. Yet for the discerning eye, the differences were obvious. The imposter had a sweeter, rounder face, dominated by large blue eyes striking in their serenity. Her voice was husky, warm, rich. Her hands rested calmly at her waist, and she moved with serene grace, not at all with the brisk certainty of the duchess. She was slow to smile, slow to frown, and never laughed with glorious freedom. Indeed, she seemed to weigh each emotion before allowing it egress, as if sometime in the past every drop of impulsiveness had been choked from her. It wasn't that she was morose, but she was observant, composed, and far too quiet.”

“I lie splayed out on the bed, staring numbly at the world's most beautiful bedroom. I've been given the Duchess Suite, a relic from the days when husbands and wives slept in separate rooms. The bedroom's damask walls are painted robin's-egg blue, the same shade as Tiffany's famous little boxes, with matching curtains framing the French windows. The ceiling above my bed is gilded in a mosaic pattern, and impressionist paintings grace the walls. Delicate white-and-gold furniture softens the room's edges, and the freshly cut peonies in a vase on my bedside table lend the air a sweet smell.”

“At the heart of the crowd walked a girl with merry eyes, a floating violet in a sea of cut-velvet and silk hose, cloth-of-silver and the smell of myrrh, concentrating as she held her skirt clear of puddles. This was Anne, duchess regnant of Brittany, her hair caught back in a diadem and a pearl-studded crespine, though she wore no other jewels. They had all been sold to pay her garrisons.”

“Now, for your final lesson of the day, it's essential that you know why your title was created. Do you have any idea?" I shake my head sheepishly. "One of your ancestors, Randolph Henry Rockford, proved to be one of England's greatest military heroes at the turn of the eighteenth century. After he won a number of crucial battles for England, King George I expressed his gratitude by granting him a dukedom over the settlement of Wickersham, along with the massive funds to build a palace worthy of such a hero," Basil explains. "Of course, the papers scoffed that King George was cruel to choose Wickersham, for the land was notoriously barren, especially in comparison to Oxfordshire's other, far more verdant towns. But eventually the fifth Duchess of Wickersham, Lady Beatrice, changed all of that." "What did she do?" I ask. "I suppose you could say she was the ultimate green thumb. Within a year, ugly old Wickersham was transformed into one of the most beautiful, frequently painted landscapes in England." This is the first moment of our lesson where I feel a flicker of interest. "How did she do it?" Basil hesitates. "It's hard to separate truth from fiction on that account. I suppose we'll never know.”

“But my parents who died in the fire, they...they were part of a noble family in England. The family has always owned the Rockford Manor in Oxfordshire, which is a mansion that includes acres of land, plus a local village where people live and farm---" "Wait, noble? Do you mean like royalty?" Zoey interrupts, her eyes wide. "No, no. But in England there's a system called the peerage---dukes and duchesses, earls and countesses---and they're ranked just below royalty. My dad was the younger son of the Duke of Wickersham, which made him a lord and my mom a lady." Carole and Keith sit frozen, listening to me with a look of dread in their eyes. "So what does that make you?" Zoey asks breathlessly. "Well, when my parents were alive, it meant that I was treated a certain way just because I was part of this family of dukes and duchesses. But then after the fire, the line of succession changed---everything changed. My first cousin, Lucia, became next in line to inherit Rockford Manor and the title. So she would have been the Duchess of Wickersham." I swallow hard. "But she died in an accident last year---which I didn't even know about until today." My hands shake as I speak, and I can't look at Keith and Carole, unable to grasp how they could have kept this from me. "That's awful! But what does it mean for you?" Zoey presses. "Her death left me next in line after my grandfather. And he passed away last month---which I was also unaware of." This time I'm able to look at Carole and Keith, shooting them a withering glare. Zoey's mouth hangs open. "That means you're...you're a...?" "Yeah. You're looking at the new Duchess of Wickersham and owner of Rockford Manor.”

“Kate still was not used to all the attention, but she was told from those in the know, that from the first whispered rumors of their secret marriage, she had charmed the ton. The Society pages praised the excellent taste of her enormous wardrobe; the hostesses of the aristocracy were pleased with her French noble blood; and at the ball the Rotherstones had given in her and Rohan's honor a few weeks ago, the ton's haughtiest dandies, the cruelest arbiters of taste, had pronounced her the rarest of finds: a great beauty with a sharp mind, a spirited wit, and a bold sense of style. In short, she had been proclaimed "all the kick.”

“One can never be too rich or too thin' is an aphorism attributed to the Duchess of Windsor. Being both rich and thin is a difficult enterprise, indeed almost unprecedented as an ideal. Into the paradoxical gap between the capacity to spend money and the need to eat less steps a brilliant solution: 'light' food. In buying 'light' food we can pay more for what costs less to produce in the first place.”

“Years and years ago, when I was a boy, when there were wolves in Wales, and birds the color of red-flannel petticoats whisked past the harp-shaped hills, when we sang and wallowed all night and day in caves that smelt like Sunday afternoons in damp front farmhouse parlors, and we chased, with the jawbones of deacons, the English and the bears, before the motor car, before the wheel, before the duchess-faced horse, when we rode the daft and happy hills bareback, it snowed and it snowed.”

“Be what you would seem to be - or, if you'd like it put more simply - never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.”

“When I’m a Duchess,” she said to herself (not in a very hopeful tone though), “I won’t have any pepper in my kitchen at all. Soup does very well without. Maybe it’s always pepper that makes people hot-tempered,” she went on, very much pleased at having found out a new kind of rule, “and vinegar that makes them sour—and camomile that makes them bitter—and—and barley-sugar and such things that make children sweet-tempered. I only wish people knew that; then they wouldn’t be so stingy about it, you know—”

“I cannot feel like a duchess in my mother’s sitting room.” “What do you feel like, then?” “Hmmm.” She took a sip of her tea. “Just Daphne Bridgerton, I suppose. It’s difficult to shed the surname in this clan. In spirit, that is.” “I hope that is a compliment,” Lady Bridgerton remarked. Daphne just smiled at her mother. “I shall never escape you, I’m afraid.” She turned to Gareth. “There is nothing like one’s family to make one feel like one has never grown up.”

“You're thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you forget to talk. I can't tell you just now what the moral of that is, but I shall remember it in a bit." "Perhaps it hasn't one," Alice ventured to remark. "Tut, tut, child!" said the Duchess. "Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it.”

“To be popular one must be a mediocrity." "Not with Women," said the duchess, shaking her head; "and women rule the world. I assure you we can't bear mediocrities. We women, as someone says, love with our ears, just as you men love with your eyes, if you ever love at all." "It seems to me that we never do anything else," murmered Dorian.”