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Regency Romance Quotes

Browse 124 quotes about Regency Romance.

Regency Romance Quotes

“Men, she knew, were not to be trusted. They had their courting face--all politeness, and bows, and compliments, and "May I have this dance?" And then they had the face they wore to stare down at their peas as they avoided the gaze of their wife across the dinner table. Worse still, she knew, she knew, that there were some very respectable, dignified, and exceedingly polite gentlemen who wore quite another face entirely behind closed doors. This was a cruel face of power wielded over another--a horse, a servant, even a wife.”

“Perita is the dog,” Gracie said, in a tone which implied Rosalind was a dimwit for having not immediately understood this. “You packed for a dog. Yes, I see.” The young dog was a lovely chocolate brown with the typical black mastiff mask. “She has quite a big head,” Rosalind observed. “Of course, she does.” Gracie sounded affronted by her sister’s ignorance. “That’s the breed. Her mother, Medea, was even bigger than Hercules, you know.” Rosalind was impressed. Hercules was the size of a small pony. At least, that’s how it seemed when he was flying through the halls of Sweetbriar and came barreling unexpectedly around a corner. “Why Perita? Don’t you mean Perdita?” “Not Shakespeare, silly. Alexander the Great.” Gracie was looking disgusted once more. “Well, his was Peritas as it was male. I’ve feminized it. Did you know Peritas bit off an elephant’s face when it tried to charge Alexander once?” “Bit it off?” “Probably not completely off. At least, I hope not. But I suppose it would have been justified if Peritas was protecting his master from being trampled to death,” Gracie said, looking thoughtful. “I’m sure Perita would do the very same for me. Or you.” She rubbed the pup’s head affectionately. “Yes. How lovely.” Rosalind decided not to imagine what a faceless elephant would look like.”

“Laurel stood on stage. She was very still. Her lovely blue eyes were lowered modestly. Her silver blonde hair fell in disheveled curls around her face, white roses and strands of pearls woven artfully throughout. A necklace of what looked like diamonds clasped her slender throat while white kid gloves were drawn up to her elbow. She held a fan of frosted silver in one hand, dangling at her side. Her dress was a shimmering sapphire blue, and it fit her exquisitely, molding to her form, hugging her small bosom and lifting her breasts until they appeared ready to spill from the satin bodice. A silver braided sash cinched her waist, emphasizing its narrowness. And then, she lifted her head, raised the hand that held the fan, then the other one and, tipping her head back, opened her eyes. They were haunting and luminous, soft in the candlelight. Her skin was pale and smooth. The crowd was utterly quiet, watching her. And then, she began to sing. If Dare had thought Laurel Spencer beautiful before, now she became goddess-like to him in an instant as a melody so heart-wrenching and lovely spilled forth from her lips.”

“She felt herself leaning forward, and sucked in a breath to steady herself, then wished she had not, for immediately the fresh, sweaty, sun-soaked scent of him filled her nostrils, fueling the mad urge to reach out a fingertip and graze that triangle of skin, a desire of such intensity she could hardly breathe or move.”

“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.”

“It was William who would climb out of his carriage unafraid and help a farmer drive a herd of cattle or sheep across a road when necessary.”

“Briar waved a hand and gave a tinkling happy laugh. He flinched. This was unbearable. The lass was as fresh and pretty as a daisy and seemed just as oblivious to her own charms as a garden flower was, too. She smelled much better than a daisy, however. Daisies were highly overrated flowers. When you got up close to one, they smelled disappointingly like manure. No, Briar Blakeley smelled like something delicious. Like something you wouldn’t mind popping straight into your mouth. Like cake baked with vanilla and cinnamon. Or a confectionary’s shop. She was sweet as honey, probably twice as naive, and something about her was making his blood pound and his loins tighten. The sooner he could get rid of her the better.”

“He was gleamingly, smolderingly beautiful, like a pure medieval knight or a young King Arthur stepping off the pages of a painting. Though it was always Lancelot who was shown with fair hair like Linden's, those long strands of dark gold and amber softening the hard planes of his warrior-strong face. Did Lancelot have a mouth like Linden's? Full and strong and sensual? Suggesting unspeakable delights if one could only unlock the man who possessed it? Was it a mouth like this which undid Guinevere?”

“Gracie's first thought was that it was unfair a man should have such a sinfully beautiful mouth. Her next was that it was made for seduction and unspeakable delights. And her third was that it was made for despair—for despair was what she could not help but feel as she stared at this young man, who seemed a strange and uncanny reflection of herself. Not only a more perfect specimen of manhood than she could ever pretend to be in her feigned garb, but a man who reflected her very soul back to her without even seeming to realize it, more herself than she was, yet in the way that fire complimented frost, or the ocean reflected the stars.”

“Life is, you know, but an idea. You can fill it up with anything really and deceive yourself into believing that is what you need. You can be happy, sad, benevolent, crafty, unpleasant. That man filled it up with nastiness and it destroyed him in the end. I wonder what could have made him that way. Cruelty on the part of others or cruelty in his heart?" - Lady Cavendish”

“Luke marveled that two years had passed, and yet the woman elicited precisely the same uncomfortable mix of reactions in him. He wanted a stiff drink. He wanted to step closer to her. He wanted to call her out for calculated provocation. He wanted to study her closely enough that he discovered the precise root of his powerful, unrelenting fascination with her. And then he wanted to use that information to excise said fascination once and for all. Surgically, if necessary.”

“His lips burned as they touched her own. She gave a little gasp under his mouth before being completely smothered by his fire. He wanted her, she understood in amazement. And it was not the fact that she was capable of attracting a man which surprised her—for she well knew her own value—but that it was this particular man, who had already filled her with a tempestuous rage, was now capable of making her feel quite another way. Of unlocking her with his lips, making her feel like a quivering flame within a frail woman's body, smoldering with a burning desire she had not even known she was capable of possessing.”

“And then his arms were suddenly around her. For a split second, time stood still for Laurel, and what was more, she wished it to. She wanted to preserve that moment, the moment just before, when everything was still possible and perfect. When the night was bright with anticipation and the promise of a kiss hung in the air between them, filling the room with a hair-raising charge like the feeling just before a bolt of lightning strikes during a terrific thunderstorm. He stepped closer and she breathed in deeply. The scent of a clean masculine soap, the rich spice of an expensive cologne, and beneath it all, the duke himself, earthy, woodsy, and so very male. Laurel’s eyes closed as his body pressed against hers. It was very firm and hard, just as she had imagined it would be. The sensation was intriguing. She could feel his breath on her face. Smell the rich caramel notes of the whisky he had been drinking. He was very close now. Then the moment was over and a new one began, and things would never, ever be the same.”

“I choose to believe that my father is still alive, that he has survived death, outlived us all, and possesses the soul that goes on and lives forever; We just cannot see him yet, for we have not caught up with him. our time will come just as his did. and no matter how woeful and lost I was when he passed away, I know I will be glad to go to a place where I can see him, and know he is okay and happy. It’s just not my time yet and there is no way of knowing if any of it is true." - Jane Adams”

“What was it about this man and his presence? When Thomas touched her, the dance took on a new quality it had not had with William. While she had been nervous at the closeness between their bodies when his brother led the waltz, Thomas provoked other sensations entirely. William exuded a sense of safety. His presence was unfamiliar, but stolid. Even comforting. But Thomas… Everything about Thomas screamed danger to Claire. Yet she was mesmerized.”

“What kind of little sense? No sense, nonsense, or good sense? Good sense is highly overrated, don’t you think? Falling in love, for instance. It makes no sense at all. And yet we do it from time to time. ‘Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?’ and all that nonsense. Or is it?” Jasper gave an infuriatingly complacent grin.”

“The evidence was there before my eyes, but I could not believe it. I did not want to believe it. It was only when my sister forced the matter that I was compelled to accept the truth—that my wife had been seduced by my best friend, and was with child by him.”

“It hurt to look at him. Hurt to know he wanted her but would not risk the pain of heartbreak a second time. Well, Briar Blakeley had already lost her heart to her husband. And she would be damned if she was going to be the only one in this marriage to do so.”