... You are the closest I will ever come to heaven, either here on Earth or in the afterlife, and I will not regret it, not even at the cost of your tears.So I go to my grave an unrepentant sinner, I’m afraid. There is no use in mourning one such as I, dearest...-Simon to Lucy in a letter before the last duel.

Lucy swayed in shock. A gust of wind moaned through the conservatory and blew out all but one of her candles. Simon must have done this. He’d destroyed his fairyland conservatory. Why? She sank to her knees, huddled on the cold floor, her one remainingflame cradled in her numb palms. She’d seen how tenderly Simon had cared for his plants. Remembered the look of pride when she’d first discovered the dome and fountain. For him to have smashed all this . . .He must have lost hope. All hope.

My darling Lucy.” He panted against her ear, and then his teeth scraped her earlobe. “I love you,” he whispered. “Don’t ever leave me.

It might’ve been my fichu."-Patricia to Lucy about her engagement to vicar Penweeble.