You were a very good tree.” She smiled then, too—a radiant, wondrous thing. “The world needs more trees.”
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he looked so lovely that he wanted to cry. Or possibly murder her violin.
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Can you try to smile?” Honoria asked wearily. Iris stretched her lips into an expression so frightening that Marcus almost left the room.
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Her brows rose, and she looked a little annoyed at his slowness. “I assume you’re strong enough to carry the pitcher?” As insults went, it was just preposterous enough not to bother him.
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She was his friend. Even if she never loved him, she would always be his friend. And he could no more hurt her deliberately than he could slice off his right hand. He might have fallen in love with her only recently, but he had known her for fifteen years. Fifteen years to know what sort of heart beat within her. He was not going to revise his opinion of her because of a single, odd night.
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“I love you, you know that.” “Of course I do,” Sarah replied. Honoria waited. “Oh, yes, and I love you, too,” Sarah said.
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because clearly she’d been reduced to idiocy. “Oh. No. No, of course not.” But still, her heart leap
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ll quartets should be so silent, Marcus thought)
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That, I think, may be the one privilege that consanguinity does allow.” She cackled with delight. “You are a prince among nephews,” she proclaimed. “Your second favorite,” he murmured. “You’ll rise to the top of the list if you find a way to destroy her violin.”
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He thought about Honoria. He could make her laugh. It was the loveliest sound he knew.