Look there.” Regina pointed toward the northern sky. “Polaris.”Viktor looked up. “The constant north star, one of man’s most dependable guides.”“Polaris will be waiting for us there when we are old and have experienced a lifetime of joys and regrets,” Regina said, a wistful note in her voice. “That fact makes me feel like one of God’s most insignificant creatures.

How does a woman gain such wisdom in only twenty-nine years?” Gordon asked, escorting her across the lawns toward the mansion.“The same way a man does."“Which is?"Lady Keely cast him an ambiguous smile. “Either you are born with wisdom, my lord, or you make dowithout it...

Thank ye."“For what?"“For bein’ who ye are."Gabby chuckled and shook her head, saying, “And who else could I be?

The money is mine, not yours,” Reginald reminded her. “You ungrateful wretch. I found you an earl to marry, and your son will be an earl.”“You chose yourself a son-in-law,” Regina said. “You traded me for a title.”“You will thank me—”“—for dying and leaving me in peace.”“You will regret those words some day.”“I can manage the regret, if not my own finances.

Let’s escape outside,” Isabelle suggested. “Do you have any other talents?”“I bake and garden.”“Do you sew, too?”Amber nodded. “I sew whenever anger incites me to mutilation.”Isabelle laughed. “One cannot hang for attacking a piece of cloth.

Viktor looked at the older man’s nightshirt, robe, and nightcap. His lips quirked into a smile. “The hour is late, and the household sleeps. How is it that you are still awake?”“I knew you would be knocking on the door sooner or later.” Pickles looked down his long nose at him. “You have passed the previous six nights with Her Ladyship.”“You are observant, my good man.”“No, Your Highness, I am the one who locks the door at night.” Pickles reached into his robe’s pocket and produced a key. He passed it to the prince, saying, “After tonight, let yourself into thehouse.”Viktor grinned at the majordomo and lifted the key out of his hand. “Your trust honors me.”“You are unlikely to abscond with the silver,” Pickles drawled.

Heavy hearts, heavy eyelids," said the master of the caravan."Huh?" Heather looked up in dismay, shocked to find she'd nearly been left behind as the caravan prepared to move on. Her last night's sleep had been fitful, full of dreams where Khalid made her suffer for running away. Now she felt drained and groggy, unable to get the images of Khalid spanking her over his knee and then ravishing her out of her tired head."Look," the caravan master said. "Riders approaching, a great armed party. No doubt they are searching for escaped slaves.""No doubt." Heather straightened up wearily in the saddle, determined to outwit Khalid and conceal her true identity as a runaway. The one thing she was sure of was that capture would bring a fate worse than death. Already she could imagine Khalid tying her up, spanking her bottom, making her howl for mercy until she had no pride or will to resist. And then would come the true test of her virtue . . .

Do not feed that beggar. Hamlet, lie down.” The dog ignored her.“Down,” Viktor ordered, his deep voice stern. The dog whined and then lay down. The prince looked at her. “You need to be more forceful.”“I suppose my forcefulness will improve once my voice changes. Sopranos get no respect.

I never realized that life could be as difficult for a beautiful woman as it is for a plain one,” he said.“Life can be difficult for everyone,” she replied.“Misery makes no distinction between prince and pauper.