He wants a fifteen thousand pound settlement.""Fifteen thousand!""He says you're a great deal of trouble."She hesitated for one startled moment before choking back a laugh."I am.""I thought so." He leveled Drew a look. "If I pay you the fifteen thousand, do you swear to keep her?"Drew reared back his head. "Forever?"Her father scowled. "Forever.""Oh, I suppose." He gave a long-suffering sigh. "If I must."She bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing outright.
I intend to marry Michael, and squander all his money and run his life, and make sure he never again consorts with wicked women or gambles with licentious men. I promise I will henpeck him until he has no life beyond what I allow him, and when we die, I will lie in his arms through all eternity.
You next," he said. "Out of those clothes and into bed."She nodded but didn't move from Sally's side. The thought of undressing exhausted her. Where would she find the strength such a task would require?"I'm filthy. I'll ruin the new bed.""I'll bring you some fresh water.""I've no clothes to change into."His grin was downright wicked. "I know."A short laugh escaped her.
Lord Randall barreled inside, brandishing his cane in Drew's face."You beggarly knave, I was told this marriage was in name only! Who gave you permission to consummate the vows?""Theodore Hopkin, governor of this colony, representative of the kind, and it's going to cost you plenty, for that daughter of yours is nothing but trouble. What in the blazes were you thinking to allow her an education?"Drew bit back his smile at the man's shocked expression. Nothing like landing the first punch.Lord Randall furrowed his bushy gray brows."I knew not about her education until it was too late."Drew straightened the cuffs of his shirt. "Well, be prepared to pay dearly for it. No man should have to suffer through what I do with the constant spouting of the most addlepated word puzzles you could imagine."-----------------------------------------"I require fifteen thousand pounds."Lord Randall spewed ale across the floor. "What! Surely drink has tickled your poor brain. You're a FARMER, you impudent rascal. I'll give you five thousand."Drew plopped his drink onto the table at his side, its contents sloshing over the rim. A satisfied smile broke across his face."Excellent." He stood."When will you take her back to England with you? Today? Tomorrow?"The old man's red-rimmed eyes widened. "I cannot take her back. Why, she's already birthed a child!" Drew shrugged. "Fifteen thousand or I send her AND the babe back, with or without you.
Their daughter scrunched up her hands and legs, waving them wildly in the air. He opened his palm, allowing the babe to kick his hand."Is she like a puppy?"Constance choked. "What!"He looked up. "Will she get her spots later?"Laughter bubbled up from within her as she playfully whacked him on the shoulder. "Yes. Yes, I'm afraid she will. As soon as the sun touches her skin, the freckles will appear."A delicious two-dimple grin spread across his face. "Good. I find I'm rather partial to freckled redheads.
Oh, they'll never believe a woman could solve such puzzles. They'll just assume I'm humoring you by editing it myself and allowing you to put your name to it."She raised her eyebrows. "But you wouldn't be."He humphed. "They'll never hear me admit it.""I will," she said, a smile curving her lips.He shrugged. "They'll believe me, not you.
Any halfway clever devil would decorate the highway to Hell as beautiful as possible.
When Sweetu wasn’t being reduced to merely existing as a bride, as a piece of meat to be handled and prodded, to have decorative contraptions stuck into her skull, her interests were otherwise unexpressed. She rarely complained, hardly asked for anything, and maybe that’s because Indian girls grow up going to weddings and we watch the procedure and we know our roles: be demure, don’t complain, cry but don’t scream, get tea for anyone older than you, and calmly meet expectations.
A poetess is not as selfishas you assume.After months of agonising over her marriage of words—the bride—and spaces—the groom,she knows that as soonas she has penned the poem,it’s yours to consume.So, without giving it a think,she blows on the inkand the letters fly awaylike dandelions on a windy day,landing on hands and lips, on hearts and hips.But more often than not,you can easily spotthem trodden and forgotten,becoming sodden and rotten.Yet, she will continue to makewhat’s others to takebecause selfishness is not the mark of a poetess.
A beautiful woman should always have at the back of her mind that her ravishing appearance is only an ephemeral quality. When she wakes up in the morning, looks into the mirror, and notices that something is fading away, she knows that the time is ripe for marriage. She should be careful of who she takes into her life because the union is gonna be everlasting.
Trust me, you will get plenty of "advice" from everyone and anyone on the best way to do things, and remember that you don't have to take any of it. Know that whatever you choose, THE PEOPLE WHO LOVE YOU AND SUPPORT YOU THE MOST WON'T MAKE THE DAY ABOUT THEM, they'll make it about you and him, and show up to celebrate your special day regardless of what you decide to do.
Remember, whoever holds the purse strings for the wedding has the control. Don't accept a cent from anyone else if possible. Then you and him will be the only ones calling the shots. All the decisionswill be yours and the rest of them will just have to go along with it.
The first time you see your grown-up little miss looking back at you from a sea of white chiffon or beaded satin glory, indeed your heart will skip a beat. You’ll find yourself blinking back tears. That elusive someday has suddenly become now. Your little girl—your jewel—is going to be a bride.
A bride, before a "Good-night" could be said,Should vanish from her clothes into her bed,As souls from bodies steal, and are not spied.But now she's laid; what though she be?Yet there are more delays, for where is he?He comes and passeth through sphere after sphere;First her sheets, then her arms, then anywhere.Let not this day, then, but this night be thine;Thy day was but the eve to this, O Valentine.
Here lies a she sun, and a he moon there;She gives the best light to his sphere;Or each is both, and all, and soThey unto one another nothing owe;And yet they do, but areSo just and rich in that coin which they pay,That neither would, nor needs forbear, nor stay;Neither desires to be spared nor to spare.They quickly pay their debt, and thenTake no acquittances, but pay again;They pay, they give, they lend, and so let fallNo such occasion to be liberal.More truth, more courage in these two do shine,Than all thy turtles have and sparrows, Valentine.
The bride waits here," she said, running her hands along her hair, taking in her image but seeming to drift away. "This is the moment you think about what you're doing. Who you're choosing. Who you will love. If it's right, Eddie, this can be such a wonderful moment.
Your father is waiting, so fly up that mountain and through the alomb. Find Nardukha and tell him I have upheld my end of the bargain. Now it is his turn.”He stares at me, a dangerous light in his eye, and then his gaze travels beyond me, in the direction of the funeral. My hand moves to his muscled forearm, and I squeeze it
The doubts, strong as they were, were rousing more than hesitation. Her eyes drifted closed, fingertips sliding over the silk and lace panties she wore.Larry could never know how many times they’d been pulled aside in a rush of unbridled lust, how the side had been carefully stitched after they’d been ripped from her in a bar bathroom a few years ago by a man whose name she didn’t even know. She found her fingers at the seam, her breath shallow and shaking as she remembered the way his rough, callused fingers felt inside her, the ache of his teeth at her shoulder, the sound of his growling moans as he gripped her hair and plunged deep into her throat. She could still smell the whiskey on his breath, the stifling cloud of smoke that permeated every part of the hole-in-the-wall bar
She would also be creating her own bridal bouquet. She wanted to feel the fragility and softness of each petal. And to make the single flowers stronger than they’d been separately. Just as she was stronger now, together with people who loved and accepted her.