Quotes from Mary Balogh

This was all she would ever have of him, and she was going to enjoy these few days for all they were worth. She would enjoy them in the strict privacy of her heart, without either Piers or anyone else being at all aware of her reason for doing so.

Had she read any good books lately? At all? She could tell him that she was going to take out a subscription at the library tomorrow because she was feeling starved of good reading material and could he recommend anything that she might not already have read?

When you allow a young lady in your care to stumble on the ice and . . . sprain her ankle, it is clearly understood by all her relatives and friends that you are obliged to make amends by marrying her.

There must be something terribly wrong with her, Camille thought, that she could neither feel nor attract love. Was it possible that her quest for perfection had somehow deadened an essential part of herself?

She did not have the willpower to send him through that door, knowing that he might never come through it again, or through any of the doors into her life.

She closed her eyes and put her hands over her face. Dear God, he had suffered too.

Soon she would know him only in memory. Soon she would lose him.

Allie. The woman he had loved in different ways for fourteen years. But always deeply. Always more deeply than he had loved anyone or anything else, including himself. Especially himself. Indeed, he was very close to hating himself at that moment.

Good God, why had someone not told him? Why had Harry not mentioned it? Oh, by the way, my sister is remaining here indefinitely to ruin our peace.

You still love him, then, he said when they had moved out of earshot. Elizabeth decided not to lie. Against all reason, yes, she said.

Piers had only ever been for her remotest dreams, anyway.

And you are all the home I will ever long for . . . Now and for the rest of my life even if I do not see you again after tonight.

He had known that memories would be stirred if he saw her again. He had known, surely, that somehow he would be hurt by them.

She lived in a world which she could make perfect for those she loved and in which her own comfort and happiness mattered not at all.

He chattered on with the larger group, reclining indolently on one elbow on the blanket, sucking on the end of a blade of grass, and resisting with all the power of his will the urge to jump to his feet and stride off through the trees alone. He felt rather as if he were suffocating.

Wise, if unromantic.

Then marry me, he said . . . You like me, do you not, Elizabeth? We could have a good friendship, I believe, a good life together. I have enough love for both of us. I should never demand more than you are prepared to give.

She looked her usual calm, dignified self—but he had learned last night, if he had not suspected it before, that she had had long practice donning this particular mask.

She had had that helpless feeling again, the one that had had her tossing and turning all night, sleepless spells intermingled with troubled dreams.

It was so beautiful that she could scarcely bear to look at it.

There is a feeling of warmth and safety associated with her memory. I believe I spent the rest of my childhood missing her.

Marius, will you stop this game of being weary and bored and show some feeling for once. And put your quizzing glass down, for goodness' sake. I know you can see perfectly well without it.

She felt a welling of love for him and a sinking of sadness. If only seven years could be erased.

She gave up the struggle. She gave up everything. Nothing mattered any longer except this moment. She raised her head and sought his mouth.