To Catch An Heiress

"Caroline, do you value your neck?"

"Yes, I'm rather fond of it. Why?"
"Because if you don't shut up, I'm going to wring it."

Monstar

So if you really ask for the cause, everything that happened to us.

All the time people ask for the things that are difficult for us, as if it's nothing.

If you keep running away, it'll become a habit.

Being lonely means you need someone. Being solitude means you don't need anyone.

That Summer

"Maybe not," she said as we came to the car. "But maybe that isn't so bad. You can't love anyone that way more than once in a lifetime. It's too hard and it hurts too much when it ends. The first boy is always the hardest to get over, Haven. It's just the way the world works.

The Type

If you grow up the type of woman men want to look at,
you can let them look at you. But do not mistake eyes for hands.

Or windows.
Or mirrors.

Let them see what a woman looks like.
They may not have ever seen one before.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to touch,
you can let them touch you.

Sometimes it is not you they are reaching for.
Sometimes it is a bottle. A door. A sandwich. A Pulitzer. Another woman.

But their hands found you first. Do not mistake yourself for a guardian.
Or a muse. Or a promise. Or a victim. Or a snack.

You are a woman. Skin and bones. Veins and nerves. Hair and sweat.
You are not made of metaphors. Not apologies. Not excuses.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to hold,
you can let them hold you.

All day they practice keeping their bodies upright--
even after all this evolving, it still feels unnatural, still strains the muscles,

holds firm the arms and spine. Only some men will want to learn
what it feels like to curl themselves into a question mark around you,

admit they do not have the answers
they thought they would have by now;

some men will want to hold you like The Answer.
You are not The Answer.

You are not the problem. You are not the poem
or the punchline or the riddle or the joke.

Woman. If you grow up the type men want to love,
You can let them love you.

Being loved is not the same thing as loving.
When you fall in love, it is discovering the ocean

after years of puddle jumping. It is realizing you have hands.
It is reaching for the tightrope when the crowds have all gone home.

Do not spend time wondering if you are the type of woman
men will hurt. If he leaves you with a car alarm heart, you learn to sing along.

It is hard to stop loving the ocean. Even after it has left you gasping, salty.
Forgive yourself for the decisions you have made, the ones you still call

mistakes when you tuck them in at night. And know this:
Know you are the type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours.

Let the statues crumble.
You have always been the place.

You are a woman who can build it yourself.
You were born to build.

A Lady By Midnight

"I never thought Greek philosophy could make a damn bit of sense to me. And most of it didn't, but those words just seemed right. 'Love is composed of a single soul, inhabiting two bodies.'" He took her by the shoulders drawing her close. "It rang true for me, in a way nothing else did. Whatever soul I had, Katie, I think I placed it in your keeping twenty years ago. And now, it's as if...every time we kiss, you give a little piece of it back."

Kate realized she had a grave problem. She was infatuated. Or mildly insane. Possibly both.

"You're like a gift," he said, his voice rough. "All wrapped up for someone else. A man can't look at you, but think of loosing those bows, one by one."

"I don't want anyone fighting over me," Kate said. "It's not worth it."
"Like hell it's not." Samuel turned to her. "Don't ever say you're not worth it, Katie. You're worth epic battles. Entire wars."
Her heart pinched. "Samuel..."
"Yes, Helen of Troy?" She thought she saw him wink as he backed away, reaching for a sword to match Evan's.

After all this time...he would choose this moment to be charming.

The Pact

No matter who you are, there is always some part of you that wishes you were someone else, and when, for a millisecond, you get that wish, it's a miracle.

To Sir Phillip, With Love

It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret, especially from her sisters, the youngest of whom, Hyacinth could probably have won the war against Napoleon in half
the time if His Majesty had only thought to draft her into the espionage service.

This was killing her. She had to break the silence. This was not natural. It was too awful. People were meant to talk.

If one didn't have love, was it better, then, to be alone?

Phillip looked to Eloise. "Perhaps introductions are in order?"
"Oh," Eloise said, gulping. "Yes, of course. These are my brothers."
"I'd gathered," he said, his voice as dry as dust.
She shot him an apologetic look, which, Phillip thought, was really the least she could do after nearly getting him tortured and killed, then turned to her brothers and motioned to each in turn, saying, "Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Gregory. These three," she added, motioning to A, B, and C, "are my elders. This one"she waved dismissively at Gregory, is an infant."

"I had to do something," she said. "I couldn't just sit and wait for life to happen to me any longer. I never thought I would be left behind."
He chuckled. "Eloise Bridgerton, I don't think anyone wouldever make the mistake of leaving you behind."

A lot could happen in a week.
Just look at the last one.

"Shall we return to the dining room?" Anthony queried. "I imagine you're hungry, and if we tarry much longer, Colin is sure to have eaten our host out of house and home."
Eloise nodded. "Either that, or they've all killed him by now."
Anthony paused to consider that. "It would save me the expense of a wedding."
"Anthony!"
"It's a joke, Eloise," he said, giving his head a weary shake. "Come along, now. Let's make sure your Sir Phillip still resides among the ranks of the living."

Phillip muttered something under his breath.
"What did you say?" she asked.
"Nothing."
"You said something."
He gave her an impatient look. "If I'd meant for you to hear it, I would have said it out loud."
She sucked in her breath. "Then you shouldn't have said it at all."
"Some things," Phillip muttered, "are impossible to keep inside."
"What did you say?" she demanded.
Phillip raked his hand through his hair. "Eloise"
"Did you insult me?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"Since it appears we are to be wed," she bit off, "yes."
"I don't recall my exact words," Phillip shot back, "but I believe I may have uttered the words women and lack of sense in the same breath."

"Are you certain you'll be happy?" she asked.
Eloise smiled ruefully. "It's a little late to wonder, don't you think?"
"It might be too late to do anything about it, but it's never too late to wonder. You're very impatient," Violet said, facing the door. "You always have been."
"I know," Eloise said, wondering if this was a scolding, and if so,why was her mother choosing to do it now?
"I always loved that about you," Violet said. "I always loved everything about you, of course, but for some reason I always found your impatience especially charming. It was never because you wanted more, it was because you wanted everything."
Eloise wasn't so sure that sounded like such a good trait.
"You wanted everything for everyone, and you wanted to know it all and learn it all, and ..."
For a moment Eloise thought her mother might be done, but then Violet turned around and added, "You've never been satisfied with second-best, and that's good, Eloise. I'm glad you never married any of those men who proposed in London. None of them would have made you happy. Content, maybe, but not happy."
Eloise felt her eyes widen with surprise.
"But don't let your impatience become all that you are," Violet said softly. "Because it isn't, you know. There's a great deal more to you, but I think sometimes you forget that." She smiled, the gentle, wise smile of a mother saying goodbye to her daughter.

He shook his head in wonder. "You are magnificent."
"I keep telling everyone that," she said with a nonchalant shrug, "but you seem to be the only one to believe me."

...I do not tell you often enough, dear Mother, how very grateful I am that I am yours. It is a rare parent who would offer a child such latitude and understanding. It is an even rarer one who calls a daughter friend. I do love you, dear Mama.

There is so much I hope to teach you, little one. I hope that I may do so by example, but I feel the need to put the words to paper as well. It is a quirk of mine, one which I expect you will recognize and find amusing by the time you read this letter.
Be strong.
Be diligent.
Be conscientious. There is never anything to be gained by taking the easy road. (Unless, of course, the road is an easy one to begin with. Roads sometimes are. If that should be the case, do not forge a new, more difficult one. Only martyrs go out looking for trouble.)
Love your siblings. You have two already, and God willing, there will be more. Love them well, for they are your blood, and when you are unsure, or times are difficult, they will be the ones to stand by your side.
Laugh. Laugh out loud, and laugh often. And when circumstances call for silence, turn your laugh into a smile.
Don't settle. Know what you want and reach for it. And if you don't know what you want, be patient. The answers will come to you in time, and you may find that your heart s desire has been right under your nose all the while.
And remember, always remember that you have a mother and a father who love each other and love you.
I feel you growing restless. Your father is making strange gasping sounds and will surely lose his temper altogether if I do not move from my escritoire to my bed.
Welcome to the world, little one. We are all so delighted to make your acquaintance.

She was married now, and suddenly she understood what it was her mother had been trying so hard to tell her on her wedding night. Marriage was about compromise, and she and Phillip were very different people. They might be perfect for one another, but that didn't mean they were the same. And if she wanted him to change some of his ways for her, well then, she was going to have to do the same for him.