By Julia Quinn
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Additional resources for A Tale of Two Sisters
My lord," she protested, scowling at his use of the hated nickname. He chuckled. "I beg your pardon, my sweet. I shouldn't tease you like that. " Lydia gave him a forgiving smile and left him with a promise to come sack soon. As she made her way out of the crowded ballroom, it was all Lydia could do to keep from running. The air was thick with the smells of flowers, perfume, sweat and wine, and the endless hum of chatter made her ears ring. She had never wanted to be alone as much as she did in this moment.
Lydia's nostrils were filled with his fragrance, the freshness of soap overlaying :he warm, salty maleness of his skin. She took a deep breath, and another, but somehow her ungs wouldn't seem to work properly. How strange it was, that until now she had never realized how big he was. She was above average height, and yet he loomed over her, his shoulders blocking out the frugal lamplight. His fingers flexed on the ironwork. " she whispered. " A flush crept over the crests of his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose.
He loves machines and physics and mathematics. In fact, we're considering writing a paper together about the possibility of vehicles being powered by atmospheric propulsion. " "Fascinating," Sara had remarked vaguely, leading Lydia away from the paved path and wandering to a wildflower meadow that stretched beyond a grove of fruit trees. As Sara had lifted her skirts ankle-high and waded among the thick carpeting of violets and white narcissi, the sun shining on her chestnut hair, she had looked far too young to be a matron of forty-five.