151 Quotes About Regency-romance

He pulled loose the ribbons of her bonnet and tossed the garment onto the opposite seat. He held her head against his shoulder and rested his cheek on top of it. He had no idea if she needed to be gathered in or not. But he needed to gather.“Idiot,” he said. “You precious idiot, Elizabeth.

Charlotte Sutherland was dancing with Cam’s cousin, Julian West. Handsome, charming, irresistible Julian. Damn shame he was such a rake. With every turn of the dance Julian drew closer to the open French doors leading onto the terrace and the dark garden beyond, his quarry caught in his arms. Such a scenario was a bit worrying for the young lady. Someone could get hurt. Or ruined.

Eleanor bit her lip. Camden West appeared remarkably…sturdy. His shoulders were half the length of the mantle, for pity’s sake, and he wasn’t thin or gangly like so many men of such imposing height. Perhaps he padded his coats? Yes, that must be it. The chest and the arms, anyway. Eleanor’s gaze dropped to his tight, buff-colored breeches. He must pad those, as well. Her face heated. My. That was a great deal of padding.

The night they’d made love, Eleanor had given him everything. She’d placed her body and her pleasure in his hands, yes, but she’d given him her trust, too. He’d felt it in every sigh, every gasp, every kiss, and it had devastated him. Humbled him. It was the sweetest pleasure he’d ever known.

Robyn made it a policy to never feel guilty for any of his sins, as it was a short step from guilt to confession. The kiss had been nothing. Or nearly nothing. Very close to nothing. Admit nothing.

Every night afterward, for months, years, he’d think about this moment and wonder what had made him turn. Had he sensed her before he saw her? Or did he catch her scent? Every night afterward, for months, for years, he’d remind himself it didn’t matter why he’d turned. It mattered only he had, and he’d seen her. Nothing was ever the same again, after that.

Something in his chest leapt toward her then. His heart, he thought it was, but it didn’t matter, really. Whatever it was, it was a part of him, and he’d never get it back from her. Didn’t want it back.

It was if the devil himself had devised the perfect earthly torture for Lady Alicia Lawrence. “Now how will I occupy myself when I get to hell?

He knew he could worm his way beneath her defenses—he’d read every word of those diaries. He knew the one absolute way to fulfill her every dream. The problem was, could he do that to her? He didn’t have to. He could turn about this moment and ride away. Yet that would mean leaving her forever.