Raw Toast," Lucas Said Grimly, Shaking His

A Duel, A Duel, A Duel. Is There Anything More Exciting, More Romantic ... Or More Utterly Moronic?

Where Is He? Bridgerton!" He Bellowed. Three Chestnut Heads Swiveled In His Direction. Simon Stomped Across The Grass, Murder In His Eyes. "i Meant The Idiot Bridgerton." "that, I Believe," Anthony Said Mildly, Tilting His Chin Toward Colin, "would Refer To You.

And I Hope You Will Not Think Me Foolish When I Also Extend My Thanks. Thank You, Michael, For Letting My Son Love Her First. —from Janet Stirling, Dowager Countess Of Kilmartin, To Michael Stirling, Earl Of Kilmartin

Your Heart Is Free Now." "no," He Whispered. "it's Yours.

He Gave Her A Sly, Sideways Look. "did You Bring It?" "my List? Heavens, No. What Can You Be Thinking?" His Smile Widened. "i Brought Mine." Daphne Gasped. "you Didn't!" "i Did. Just To Torture Mother. I'm Going Peruse It Right In Front Of Her, Pull Out My Quizzing Glass—" "you Don't Have A Quizzing Glass." He Grinned—the Slow, Devastatingly Wicked Smile That All Bridgerton Males Seemed To Possess. "i Bought One Just For This Occasion." "anthony, You Absolutely Cannot. She Will Kill You. And Then, Somehow, She'll Find A Way To Blame Me." "i'm Counting On It.