Scandal in Spring Quotes

“This week has had a strange effect on me,” Llandrindon ruminated aloud. “I feel… different.”
“Are you ill?” Daisy asked in concern, closing the sketchbook. “I’m sorry, I’ve made you sit out in the sun too long.”
“No, not that kind of different. What I meant to say is that I feel… wonderful.” Llandrindon was staring at her in that odd way again. “Better than I ever have before.”
“It’s the country air, I expect.” Daisy stood and brushed her skirts off, and went to him. “It’s quite invigorating.”
“It’s not the country air I find invigorating,” Llandrindon said in a low voice. “It’s you, Miss Bowman.”
Daisy’s mouth fell open. “Me?”
“You.” He stood and took her shoulders in his hands.
Daisy could only stutter in surprise. “I— I— my lord—”
“These past few days in your company have given me cause for deep reflection.”
Daisy twisted to glance at their surroundings, taking in the neatly trimmed hedges covered with bursts of pink climbing roses. “Is Mr. Swift nearby?” she whispered. “Is that why you’re talking this way?”
“No, I’m speaking for myself.” Ardently Llandrindon pulled her closer, until the sketchbook was nearly crushed between them. “You’ve opened my eyes, Miss Bowman. You’ve made me see everything a different way. I want to find shapes in clouds, and do something worth writing a poem about. I want to read novels. I want to make life an adventure—”
“How nice,” Daisy said, wriggling in his tightening grasp.
“— with you.”
Oh no.
“You’re joking,” she said weakly.
“I’m besotted,” he declared.
“I’m unavailable.”
“I’m determined.”
“I’m… surprised.”
“You dear little thing,” he exclaimed. “You’re everything he said you were. Magic. Thunderstorms wrapped up with rainbows. Clever and lovely and desirable—”
“Wait.” Daisy stared at him in astonishment. “Matth— that is, Mr. Swift said that?”
“Yes, yes, yes…” And before she could move, speak or breathe, Llandrindon lowered his head and kissed her.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Matthew’s smile vanished as his gaze slid over her and lingered on the torn seam at her shoulder. “What happened to your dress?”
“It was nothing. I had a sort of… well, a scuffle, you might call it, with Lord Llandrindon.”
It was the most innocent way Daisy could think of to describe the encounter, which of course had been harmless. She was certain no lurid connotations could be attached to “scuffle.”
However, it appeared that Swift’s definition of the word was far more expansive than hers. Suddenly his expression turned dark and frightening, and his blue eyes blazed.
“I’m going to kill him,” he said in a guttural voice. “He dared to— where is he?”
“No, no,” Daisy said hastily, “you misunderstood— it wasn’t like that—” Dropping the sketchbook, she threw her arms around him, using all her weight to restrain him as he headed toward the garden. She might as well have tried to hold back a charging bull. With the first few steps she was carried bodily with him. “Wait! What gives you the right to do anything where I’m concerned?”
Breathing heavily, Matthew stopped and glared down into her flushed face. “Did he touch you? Did he force you to—”
“You’re nothing but a dog in the manger,” Daisy cried hotly. “You don’t want me— why should you care if someone else does? Leave me alone and go back to your plans for building your big sodding factory and making mountains of money! I hope you become the richest man in the world. I hope you get everything you want, and then someday you’ll look around and wonder why no one loves you and why you’re so unh—”
Her words were crushed into silence as he kissed her, his mouth hard and punishing. A wild thrill shot through her, and she turned her face away with a gasp. “— happy,” she managed to finish, just before he clasped her head in his hands and kissed her again.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Breaking the contact between their lips, she managed an anguished whisper. “Matthew… take me somewhere.”
“No.”
“Yes. I need… I need to be alone with you.”
Panting raggedly, Matthew folded his arms around her, bringing her against his hard chest. She felt the desperate crush of his lips against her scalp.
“I can’t trust myself that far,” he finally said.
“Just to talk. Please. We can’t stay out in the open like this. And if you leave me now I’ll die.”
Even aroused and in turmoil, Matthew couldn’t prevent a smothered laugh at the dramatic statement. “You won’t die.”
“Just to talk,” Daisy repeated, clinging to him. “I won’t… I won’t tempt you.”
“Sweetheart.” He let out a serrated breath. “You tempt me just by being in the same room with me.”
Her throat turned hot, as if she had just swallowed sunlight. Sensing that any more coaxing would push him in the opposite direction, Daisy stayed silent. She pressed against him, letting the silent communication of their bodies melt his resolve.
With a quiet groan, Matthew took her hand and tugged her toward the bachelor’s house. “God help us both if anyone sees.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Daisy, you’re too damned innocent to understand the danger you’re in. It’s taking all the self-control I’ve got to keep my hands off you. Don’t play games with me, sweetheart. It’s too easy for you to torture me, and I’m at my limit.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“May I sit down, please?” she asked mildly. “I’m tired of standing.”
“There’s no place to sit.”
“Yes there is.” Breaking away from him, Daisy went to the four-poster bed and tried to climb onto it. Unfortunately the bed was an antique Sheraton, built high to avoid winter drafts and allow for a trundle below. The top of the mattress was level with her breasts. Hoisting herself upward, she tried to lever her hips onto the mattress.
Gravity defeated her.
“Usually,” Daisy said, struggling and squirming with her feet dangling, “there’s a stair-step provided—” She grabbed handfuls of the counterpane. “— for beds this tall.” Straining to hook a knee over the edge of the mattress, she continued, “Good God… if someone fell out of this bed at night… it would be fatal.”
She felt Matthew’s hands clamp around her waist. “The bed’s not that tall,” he said. Picking her up as if she were a child, he deposited her on the mattress. “It’s just that you’re short.”
“I’m not short. I’m… vertically disadvantaged.”
“Fine. Sit up.” His weight depressed the mattress behind her and his hands returned to the back of her dress.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Walking with Daisy from the dining hall, Matthew murmured, “Will I have to scale the outside wall tonight, or are you going to leave your door unlocked?”
“The door,” Daisy replied succinctly.
“Thank God.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“You have always embodied the worst of my father,” Lillian said. “The coldness, the ambition, the self-centeredness. Except you’re worse because you’re able to disguise it far more adeptly than he does. You’re what my father would have been if he’d been blessed with good looks and a little sophistication. I think that in winning you Daisy must somehow feel she has finally succeeded with Father.” Her brows came together as she continued. “My sister has always compelled to love unlovable creatures…the strays, the misfits. Once she loves someone, no matter how many times they betray or disappoint her, she will take them back with open arms. But you won’t appreciate that any more than Father does. You’ll take what you want, and give her very little in return. And when you inevitably hurt her, I will be the first in a line of people waiting to slaughter you. By the time I finish with you, there won’t be enough left for the others to pick over.”
“So much for impartiality,” Matthew said. He respected her brutal honesty even though he was smarting from it. “May I respond with the same frankness you’ve just shown me?”
“I hope you will.”
“My lady, you don’t know me well enough to assess how much like your father I may or may not be. It’s no crime to be ambitious, particularly when you’ve started with nothing. And I’m not cold, I’m from Boston. Which means I’m not prone to displaying my emotions for all and sundry to see. As far as being self-centered, you have no way of knowing how much I’ve done, if anything, for other people. But I’ll be damned if I recite a list of my past good deeds in hopes of winning your approval.” He leveled a cool stare at her. “Regardless of your opinions, the marriage is going to happen, because both Daisy and I want it. So I have no reason to lie to you. I could say I don’t give a damn about Daisy, and I would still get what I want. But the fact is, I’m in love with her. I have been for a long time.”
“You’ve been secretly in love with my sister for years?” Lillian asked with blistering skepticism. “How convenient.”
“I didn’t define it as ‘in love.’ All I knew was that I had a persistent, all-consuming…preference for her.”
“Preference?” Lillian looked momentarily outraged, and then she surprised him by laughing. “My God, you really are from Boston.” “Believe it or not,” Matthew muttered, “I wouldn’t have chosen to feel this way about Daisy. It would have been far more convenient to find someone else. The devil knows I should be given some credit for being willing to take on the Bowmans as in-laws.” “Touché.” Lillian continued to smile, leaning her chin on her hand as she stared at him.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Why didn’t the others help you?” Daisy asked angrily, scrubbing the sleeve of her gown over her dripping face.
“They were busy saving their own skins. Although,” Matthew added ruefully, “I would have thought I merited a little more importance than the horses.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Witnessing Matthew’s limitless energy and his growing list of accomplishments, Simon Hunt had informed him decisively that any time he tired of working for Bowman’s, he was welcome to come to Consolidated Locomotive. That had prompted Thomas Bowman to offer Matthew a higher percentage of the soap company’s future profits.
“I’ll be a millionaire by the time I’m thirty,” Matthew had told Daisy dryly, “if I can just manage to stay out of jail.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“With Matthew at her side, Daisy browsed the row of wooden stalls that had been erected along High Street, filled with fabrics, toys, millinery, silver jewelry, and glassware. She was determined to see and do as much as possible in a short time, for Westcliff had strongly advised them to return to the manor well before midnight.
“The later the hour, the more unrestrained the merrymaking tends to become,” the earl had said meaningfully. “Under the influence of wine—and behind the concealment of masks—people tend to do things they would never think of doing in the light of day.”
“Oh, what’s a little fertility ritual here or there?” Daisy had scoffed cheerfully. “I’m not so innocent that I—”
“We’ll be back early,” Matthew had told the earl.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Now as they made their way through the exuberantly crowded village, Daisy understood what Westcliff had meant. It was still early evening, and already it appeared that copiously flowing wine had loosened inhibitions. People were embracing, arguing, laughing and playing. Some were laying floral wreaths at the base of the oldest oak trees, or pouring wine at the roots, or…
“Good Lord,” Daisy said, her attention caught by a perplexing sight in the distance, “what are they doing to that poor tree?”
Matthew’s hands clasped her head and firmly aimed her face in another direction. “Don’t look.”
“Was it some form of tree-worship or—”
“Let’s go watch the rope-dancers,” he said with sudden enthusiasm, guiding her to the other side of the green.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“They walked slowly past fire-swallowers, conjurors and tumblers, pausing to purchase a skin of new wine. Daisy drank carefully from the wineskin, but a drop escaped from the corner of her lips. Matthew smiled and began to reach into his pocket for a handkerchief, then appeared to think better of it. Instead he ducked his head and kissed away the wine droplet.
“You’re supposed to be protecting me from impropriety,” she said with a grin, “and instead you’re leading me astray.”
The backs of his knuckles stroked gently against the side of her face. “I’d like to lead you astray,” he murmured. “In fact, I’d like to lead you straight into those woods and…” He seemed to lose his train of thought as he stared into her soft, dark eyes. “Daisy Bowman,” he whispered. “I wish—”
But she was never to find out what his wish was, because she was abruptly pushed into him as a crowd jostled past. Everyone was bent on obtaining a view of a pair of jugglers who had clubs and hoops spinning in the air between them. In the rush the wineskin was knocked from Daisy’s hands and trampled underfoot. Matthew put his arms around her protectively.
“I dropped the wine,” Daisy said regretfully.
“Just as well.” His mouth lowered to her ear, his lips brushing the delicate outer rim. “It might have gone to my head. And then you might have taken advantage of me.”
Daisy smiled and snuggled against his hard form, her senses delighting in the reassuring warmth of his embrace. “Are my designs on you that obvious?” she asked in a muffled voice.
He nuzzled into the soft space beneath her earlobe. “I’m afraid so.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“I want to be part of you,” he whispered. “I want forever with you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Bringing her thoughts back to the present, Daisy decided to regain Matthew’s attention. “Of course,” she said casually, “we don’t have to have a wedding ceremony at all. We can simply adhere to the classic marriage-by-purchase. Give my father a cow, and we’ll be done with it. Or perhaps we’ll do a handfasting ritual. Of course, there’s always the ancient Greek practice in which I would cut off all my hair as a sacrifice and dedicate it to Artemis, followed by a ritual bath in a sacred spring—”
Suddenly Daisy found herself flat on her back, the sky partially blocked by Matthew’s dark form. She let out a gasp of laughter at the suddenness with which he had thrown aside his fishing rod and pounced on her. His blue eyes gleamed with mischief. “I would consider the cow exchange or the handfasting,” he said. “But I draw the line at marrying a hairless bride.”
Daisy relished the weight of him pressing her back against the spongy grass, the scents of earth and herbs all around them. “What about the ritual bath?” she asked.
“That you can do. In fact…” His long fingers reached for the buttons at the front of her dress. “…I think you should practice. I’ll help you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“He sat on the edge of the mattress, his nerves sizzling as Daisy gathered up the loose folds of her nightgown. She crawled into his lap with the delicacy of a cat. The scent of sweet female skin filled his nostrils, and her weight settled on his thighs. Linking her slender arms around his neck, she said gravely, “I missed you.”
His palms charted the shape of her body; the tender curves, the slender waist, the firm heart-shaped bottom. But as enchanting as he found Daisy’s physical charms, they didn’t affect him a fraction as intensely as the warm, lively intelligence of her nature.
“I missed you too.”
Daisy’s fingers played in his hair, the delicate touch sending jolts of pleasure from the base of his skull to his groin. Her voice turned provocative. “Did you meet many women in Bristol? Westcliff mentioned something about a dinner, and a soirée given by your host—”
“I didn’t notice any women.” Matthew found it hard to think over the exquisite writhing desire. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”
She touched the tip of her nose to his in a playful nudge. “You weren’t celibate in the past, however.”
“No,” Matthew admitted, closing his eyes as he felt the caress of her breath against his skin. “It’s a lonely feeling, wishing the woman in your arms was someone else. Not long before I left New York, I realized that every woman I’d been with in the past seven years had resembled you in some way. One would have your eyes, another your hands, or your hair…I thought I would spend the rest of my life searching for little reminders of you. I thought—”
Her mouth pressed against his, absorbing the raw confession.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“When the two men finally appeared in the dining hall after having washed and changed from the journey, Daisy’s heart pounded too fast to allow for a full breath.
Matthew’s glance swept the company at large, and he bowed as Westcliff did. Both of them appeared collected and remarkably fresh. One would think they had been absent for seven minutes instead of seven days.
Before going to his place at the head of the table, Westcliff went to Lillian. Since the earl was never given to public demonstrations, it astonished everyone, including Lillian, when he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth. She flushed and said something about the vicar being there, making Westcliff laugh.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“What could have possessed her to sleep with Matthew Swift?”
“I doubt there was much sleeping involved,” Annabelle replied, her eyes twinkling.
Lillian gave her a slitted glare. “If you have the bad taste to be amused by this, Annabelle—”
“Daisy was never interested in Lord Llandrindon,” Evie volunteered hastily, trying to prevent a quarrel. “She was only using him to provoke Mr. Swift.”
“How do you know?” the other two asked at the same time.
“Well, I-I…” Evie made a helpless gesture with her hands. “Last week I m-more or less inadvertently suggested that she try to make him jealous. And it worked.”
Lillian’s throat worked violently before she could manage to speak. “Of all the asinine, sheep-headed, moronic—”
“Why, Evie?” Annabelle asked in a considerably kinder tone.
“Daisy and I overheard Mr. Swift t-talking to Lord Llandrindon. He was trying to convince Llandrindon to court her, and it became obvious that Mr. Swift wanted her for himself.”
“I’ll bet he planned it,” Lillian snapped. “He must have known somehow that you would overhear. It was a devious and sinister plot, and you fell for it!”
“I don’t think so,” Evie replied. Staring at Lillian’s crimson face, she asked apprehensively, “Are you going to shout at me?”
Lillian shook her head and dropped her face in her hands. “I’d shriek like a banshee,” she said through the screen of her fingers, “if I thought it would do any good. But since I’m fairly certain Daisy has been intimate with that reptile, there is probably nothing anyone can do to save her now.”
“She may not want to be saved,” Evie pointed out.
“That’s because she’s gone stark raving mad,” came Lillian’s muffled growl.
Annabelle nodded. “Obviously. Daisy has slept with a handsome, young, wealthy, intelligent man who is apparently in love with her. What in God’s name can she be thinking?” She smiled compassionately as she heard Lillian’s profane reply, and settled a gentle hand between her friend’s shoulders. “Dearest,” she murmured, “as you know, there was a time when it didn’t matter to me whether I married a man I loved or not…it seemed enough just to get my family out of the desperate situation we were in. But when I thought about what it would be like to share a bed with my husband…to spend the rest of my life with him…I knew Simon was the only choice.” She paused, and sudden tears glittered her eyes. Beautiful, self-possessed Annabelle, who hardly ever cried. “When I’m ill,” she continued in a husky voice, “when I’m afraid, when I need something, I know he will move heaven and earth to make everything all right. I trust him with every fiber of my being. And when I see the child we created, the two of us mingled forever in her…my God, how grateful I am that I married Simon. We’ve all been able to choose our own husbands, Lillian. You have to allow Daisy the same freedom.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Daisy,” he whispered, turning until she was tucked beneath him once more. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” His fingers investigated the fragile angles of her face, the smiling curve of her lips. “But now it seems impossible that I held out as long as I did.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Her nerves, sated as they were, stirred beneath the caress of his fingertips. “Matthew…what will happen next? Will you speak to my father?”
“Not yet. In the interest of preserving at least a semblance of decorum, I’m going to wait until I return from Bristol. By that time most of the guests will have left, and the family will be able to deal with the situation in relative privacy.”
“My father will be overjoyed. But Mother will have conniptions. And Lillian…”
“Will explode.”
Daisy sighed. “My brothers aren’t too fond of you, either.”
“Really,” he said in mock surprise.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Daisy stared worriedly into his shadowed face. “What if you change your mind about me? What if you come back and tell me that you were wrong, you don’t want to marry me, and—”
“No,” Matthew said, stroking the rampant black waves of her hair. “There’s no turning back. I’ve taken your innocence. I’m not going to avoid my responsibility.”
Disgruntled by the choice of words, Daisy frowned.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“The way you put it…your responsibility…as if you have to atone for some terrible mistake. It’s not the most romantic thing to say, especially in present circumstances.”
“Oh.” Matthew grinned suddenly. “I’m not a romantic man, sweetheart. You knew that already.” He bent his head and kissed the side of her neck, and nipped at her ear. “But I am responsible for you now.” He worked his way down to her shoulder. “For your safety…your welfare…your pleasure…and I take my responsibilities very seriously…”
He kissed her breasts, drawing the taut peaks into the melting heat of his mouth. His hand parted her thighs and played gently between them.
A moan of pleasure slipped from her throat, and he smiled. “You make the sweetest sounds,” he murmured. “When I touch you like this…and this…and the way you cry out when you come for me…”
Her face burned. She tried to be quiet, but in another moment he had coaxed another helpless moan from her. “Matthew…?” Her toes curled as she felt him slip lower, his tongue tickling the hollow of her navel.
His voice was muffled by the covers that tented over his head. “Yes, chatterbox?”
“Are you going to do—” she paused with a gasp as she felt him push her knees apart, “—what you did before?”
“It would seem so.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“My God, how I want you,” he whispered.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Daisy wasn’t certain why the notion that Matthew Swift could be in love with her should set her entire world upside-down. But it did.
“If he is,” she asked Evie unsteadily, “then why is he so determined to pawn me off on Lord Llandrindon? It would be so easy for him to fall in with my father’s plans. And he would be richly rewarded. If on top of that he actually cares for me in the bargain, what could be holding him back?”
“Maybe he wants to find out if you love him in return?”
“No, Mr. Swift’s mind doesn’t work that way, any more than my father’s does. They’re men of business. Predators. If Mr. Swift wanted me, he wouldn’t stop to ask for my permission any more than a lion would stop and politely ask an antelope if he would mind being eaten for lunch.”
“I think the two of you should have a forthright conversation,” Evie declared.
“Oh, Mr. Swift would only evade and prevaricate, exactly as he has done so far. Unless…”
“Unless?”
“…I could find some way to make him let his guard down. And force him to be honest about whether he feels anything for me or not.”
“How will you do that?”
“I don’t know. Hang it, Evie, you know a hundred times more about men than I do. You’re married to one. You’re surrounded by them at the club. In your informed opinion, what is the quickest way to drive a man to the limits of his sanity and make him admit something he doesn’t want to?”
Seeming pleased by the image of herself as a worldly woman, Evie contemplated the question. “Make him jealous, I suppose. I’ve seen civilized men fight like dogs in the alley behind the club over the f-favors of a particular lady.”
“Hmm. I wonder if Mr. Swift could be provoked to jealousy.”
“I should think so,” Evie said. “He’s a man, after all.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Becoming aware of her presence in the doorway, the men looked up. Westcliff rose from his half-seated position on the desk. “My lord,” Daisy said, “if I might have a word with you?”
Although she spoke calmly, something in her expression must have alerted him. He didn’t waste a second in coming to her. “Yes, Daisy?”
“It’s about my sister,” she whispered. “It seems her labor has started.”
She had never seen the earl look so utterly taken aback.
“It’s too early,” he said.
“Apparently the baby doesn’t think so.”
“But…this is off-schedule.” The earl seemed genuinely baffled that his child would have failed to consult the calendar before arriving.
“Not necessarily,” Daisy replied reasonably. “It’s possible the doctor misjudged the date of the baby’s birth. Ultimately it’s only a matter of guesswork.”
Westcliff scowled. “I expected far more accuracy than this! It’s nearly a month before the projected…” A new thought occurred to him, and he turned skull-white. “Is the baby premature?”
Although Daisy had entertained a few private concerns about that, she shook her head immediately. “Some women show more than others, some less. And my sister is very slender. I’m sure the baby is fine.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Lillian has had pains for the past four or five hours, and now they’re coming every ten minutes or so, which Annabelle says—”
“She’s been in labor for hours and no one told me?” Westcliff demanded in outrage.
“Well, it’s not technically labor unless the intervals between the pains are regular, and she said she didn’t want to bother you until—”
Westcliff let out a curse that startled Daisy. He turned to point a commanding but unsteady finger at Simon Hunt. “Doctor,” he barked, and took off at a dead run.
Simon Hunt appeared unsurprised by Westcliff’s primitive behavior. “Poor fellow,” he said with a slight smile, reaching over the desk to slide a pen back into its holder.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“What aren’t coming regularly?” Daisy asked with forced cheer, coming into the room. “And why are you watching the—” She blanched as she suddenly understood. “My God. Are you having birthing pains, Lillian?”
Her sister shook her head, looking perplexed. “Not full-on pains. Just a sort of tightening of my stomach. It started after lunchtime, and then I had one an hour later, and then a half-hour later, and this one came after twenty minutes.”
“Does Westcliff know?” Daisy asked breathlessly. “Should I go tell him?”
“No,” all three of the other women said at once.
“There’s no need to worry him yet,” Lillian added in a sheepish tone. “Let Westcliff enjoy the afternoon with his friends. As soon as he finds out, he’ll be up here pacing and giving commands, and no one will have any peace. Especially me.”
“What about Mother? Shall I fetch her?” Daisy had to ask, even though she was certain of the answer.
Mercedes was not a comforting sort of person, and despite the fact that she had given birth to five children, she was squeamish at the mention of any kind of bodily function.
“I’m in enough pain already,” Lillian said dryly.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Pausing at the threshold of the billiards room, she peered around the doorframe as gentlemen milled lazily around the table with drinks and cue sticks in hand. The clicks of ivory balls provided an arrhythmic undertone to the hum of masculine conversation.
Her attention was caught by the sight of Matthew Swift in his shirtsleeves, leaning over the table to execute a perfect bank shot.
His hands were deft on the cue stick, his blue eyes narrowed as he focused on the layout of balls on the table. Those ever-rebellious locks of hair had fallen over his forehead once more, and Daisy longed to push them back.
As Swift sank a ball neatly into a side pocket, there was a scattering of applause, some low laughs, and a few coins changing hands. Standing, Swift produced one of his elusive grins and made a remark to his opponent, who turned out to be Lord Westcliff.
Westcliff laughed at the comment and circled the table, an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth as he considered his options.
The air of relaxed masculine enjoyment in the room was unmistakable.
As Westcliff rounded the table, he caught sight of Daisy peeking around the doorframe.
He winked at her.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Blast,” Daisy complained. “Blast, blast…Lillian, I had just gotten to the best part!”
“As we speak there are at least a half-dozen eligible men who are lawn-bowling outside,” her sister said crisply. “And playing games with them is far more productive than reading by yourself.”
“I don’t know anything about bowls.”
“Good. Ask them to teach you. If there’s one thing every man loves to do, it’s telling a woman how to do something.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“After a long moment Bowman ventured, “Would it really be so terrible having Daisy for a wife? You’ll have to marry sometime. And she comes with benefits. The company, for example. You will be given controlling interest in it upon my death.”
“You’ll outlive us all,” Matthew muttered.
Bowman let out a pleased laugh. “I want you to have the company,” he insisted. It was the first time he had ever spoken this frankly on the subject. “You’re more like me than any of my sons. The company will be far better off in your hands than anyone else’s. You have a gift…an ability to enter a room and take it over…you fear no one, and they all know it, and they esteem you for it. Marry my daughter, Swift, and build my factory. By the time you come home, I’ll give you New York.”
“Could you throw in Rhode Island? It’s not very large.”
Bowman ignored the sardonic question. “I have ambitions for you beyond the company. I am connected with powerful men, and you have not escaped their notice. I will help you achieve anything your mind can conceive…and the price is a small one. Take Daisy and sire my grandchildren. That’s all I ask.”
“That’s all,” Matthew repeated dazedly.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“No sugarcoating would be necessary,” Matthew interrupted calmly. “Daisy…that is, Miss Bowman, is entirely—” Beautiful. Desirable. Bewitching. “—acceptable. Marrying a woman like Miss Bowman would be a reward in itself.”
“Good,” Bowman grunted, clearly unconvinced. “Very gentlemanly of you to say so. Still, I will offer you fair recompense in the form of a generous dowry, more shares in the company and so forth. You will be quite satisfied, I assure you. Now as to the wedding arrangements—”
“I didn’t say yes,” Matthew interrupted.
Bowman stopped pacing and sent him a questioning stare.
“To start with,” Matthew continued carefully, “it is possible Miss Bowman will find a suitor within the next two months.”
“She will find no suitors of your caliber,” Bowman said smugly.
Matthew replied gravely despite his amusement. “Thank you. But I don’t believe Miss Bowman shares your high opinion.”
The older man made a dismissive gesture. “Bah. Women’s minds are as changeable as English weather. You can persuade her to like you. Give her a posy of flowers, throw a few compliments in her direction…better yet, quote something from one of those blasted poetry books she reads. Seducing a woman is easily accomplished, Swift. All you have to do is—”
“Mr. Bowman,” Matthew interrupted with a sudden touch of alarm. God in heaven, all he needed was an explanation of courtship techniques from his employer. “I believe I could manage that without any advice. That’s not the issue.”
“Then what…ah.” Bowman gave him a man-of-the-world smile. “I understand.”
“You understand what?” Matthew asked apprehensively.
“Obviously you fear my reaction if you should decide later on that my daughter is not adequate to your needs. But as long as you behave with discretion, I won’t say a word.”
Matthew sighed and rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling weary. This was a bit much to face so soon after his ship had landed in Bristol. “You’re saying you’ll look the other way if I stray from my wife,” he said rather than asked.
“We men face temptations. Sometimes we stray. It is the way of the world.”
“It’s not my way,” Matthew said flatly. “I stand by my word, both in business and in my personal life. If or when I promise to be faithful to a woman, I would be. No matter what.”
Bowman’s heavy mustache twitched with amusement. “You’re still young enough to afford scruples.”
“The old can’t afford them?” Matthew asked with a touch of affectionate mockery.
“Some scruples have a way of becoming overpriced. You’ll discover that someday.”
“God, I hope not.” Matthew sank into a chair and buried his head in his hands, his fingers tunneling through the heavy locks of his hair.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Daisy pulled away from Swift’s grasp. “You’ve changed,” she said, trying to collect herself.
“You haven’t,” he replied.
It was impossible to tell whether the remark was intended as compliment or criticism.
“What were you doing at the well?”
“I was…I thought…” Daisy searched in vain for a sensible explanation, but could think of nothing. “It’s a wishing well.”
His expression was solemn, but there was a suspicious flicker in his vivid blue eyes as if he were secretly amused. “You have this on good authority, I take it?”
“Everyone in the local village visits it,” Daisy replied testily. “It’s a legendary wishing well.”
He was staring at her the way she had always hated, absorbing everything, no detail escaping his notice. Daisy felt her cheeks turn blood-hot beneath his scrutiny.
“What did you wish for?” he asked.
“That’s private.”
“Knowing you,” he said, “it could be anything.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Lillian’s slender fingers played absently in his hair as she commented, “It’s been a long time since Mr. Swift went to find Daisy. And it’s too quiet. Aren’t you going to go up there and check on them?”
“Not for all the hemp in China,” Marcus said, repeating one of Daisy’s new favorite phrases. “God knows what I might be interrupting.”
“Good God.” Lillian sounded appalled. “You don’t think they’re…”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Marcus paused deliberately before adding, “Remember how we used to be.”
As he had intended, the remark diverted her instantly.
“We’re still that way,” Lillian protested.
“We haven’t made love since before the baby was born.” Marcus sat up, filling his gaze with the sight of his dark-haired young wife in the firelight. She was, and would always be, the most tempting woman he had ever known. Unspent passion roughened his voice as he asked, “How much longer must I wait?”
Propping her elbow on the back of the sofa, Lillian leaned her head on her hand and smiled apologetically. “The doctor said at least another fortnight. I’m sorry.” She laughed as she saw his expression. “Very sorry. Let’s go upstairs.”
“If we’re not going to bed together, I fail to see the point,” Marcus grumbled.
“I’ll help you with your bath. I’ll even scrub your back.”
He was sufficiently intrigued by the offer to ask, “Only my back?”
“I’m open to negotiation,” Lillian said provocatively. “As always.”
Marcus reached out to gather her against his chest and sighed. “At this point I’ll take whatever I can get.”
“You poor man.” Still smiling, Lillian turned her face to kiss him. “Just remember…some things are worth waiting for.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring