“It struck me then how much the past - not just the past but history and family - was like the ocean tide. It was always the same ocean, but the waves made it fresh and new each time.”
“When people went on vacation, they shed their home skins, thought they could be a new person.”
“Come find me," Leo put in, his gaze full of understanding. "Whenever you want. I'll be here.”
“I watched the land for as long as I could, until it disappeared behind its shawl of mist, and until I had it fixed in my mind - unchanged, mysterious and beautiful”
“I couldn't think. The basics of my life seemed altered and thrown into question. After all, our families--our ancestors--are our identities. Biology is destiny.
I'm not who you think I am, I had said to T.J. the last time I'd seen him. Maybe I wasn't who I'd thought I was either.”
“My skin prickled and I looked back at the ocean. None of us ask for the things we inherit; they are thrust upon us, willy-nilly. Like The Marine, I suddenly understood. Mom and I weren't trespassing. This house was ours. This view was ours. And that seemed as absurd and unreal as the stories Sailor Hat had spun for me on the ferry.”
“The kind where you know the person inside an dout. Where you can go through hell and back and still make it out okay.”
“When you find someone, someone who gets you, who understand you, it’s worth fighting for. The last thing you want to do is be five years down the road and look back and wonder what could have happened. Trust me, that kind of regret that kind of what-if, can gnaw on your soul until there is nothing left.”
“Speaking of which,” he murmured.
Hyacinth’s mouth fell open as he dropped down to one
knee. “What are you doing?” she squeaked, frantically
looking this way and that. Lord St. Clair was surely peeking
out at them, and heaven only knew who else was, too.
“Someone will see,” she whispered.
He seemed unconcerned. “People will say we’re in
love.”
“I—” Good heavens, but how did a woman argue
against that?
“Hyacinth Bridgerton,” he said, taking her hand in his,
“will you marry me?”
She blinked in confusion. “I already said I would.”
“Yes, but as you said, I did not ask you for the right reasons.
They were mostly the right reasons, but not all.”
“I—I—” She was stumbling on the words, choking on
the emotion.
He was staring up at her, his eyes glowing clear and
blue in the dim light of the streetlamps. “I am asking you
to marry me because I love you,” he said”
“Daisy,” Westcliff said gently, “most lives are not distinguished by great achievements. They are measured by an infinite number of small ones. Each time you do a kindness for someone or bring a smile to his face, it gives your life meaning. Never doubt your value, little friend. The world would be a dismal place without Daisy Bowman in it.”
“I’m Sam Donovan.”
“I know who you are. Mrs. Kulavich told me. I’m Jaine Bright.”
“I know. She told me. She even told me how you spell your name.”
Now, how on earth had Mrs. Kulavich known that?”
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