Devil's Daughter Quotes

“If the hero hasn’t turned up, you may have to settle for the villain.” “If the villain’s the one who turns up, he is the hero.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Courting sometimes has the unpleasant side effect of marriage.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“I think I’m in love with her. Either that, or I have a stomach disease with a side effect of uncontrollable sweating.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“No woman should be afraid to sparkle.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“You suffered no injuries?” Two long, wet fingers hooked the top of her neckline and tugged her closer to the side of the bathtub. Sebastian’s eyes were pale, lucent blue, sparkling like winter starlight. “I may have enough of a sprain to require your services.” A smile curved her lips. “What services?” “I need a bath maid.” Catching one of her hands, he drew it down into the water. “For my hard-to-reach places.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Do I have to stay in the nursery? With the babies?”
“Darling, you’re four years old—”
“Almost five!”
Her lips quirked. There was a wealth of interest and empathy in the gaze she bent on her small son.
“You may stay in my room, if you like,” she offered. The child was appalled by the suggestion.
“I can’t sleep in your room,” he said indignantly.
“Why not?”
“People might think we were married!”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Justin tugged at Phoebe’s sleeve. “Mama, if I must have a governess, I want a pretty one.” Another snort from the nursemaid. “They start early, don’t they?” she remarked in an aside. “In my family, they do,” Phoebe replied ruefully.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Sin is never free, there's either an up-front cost or an invoice to pay later.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Have you tried to be honest with her about your feelings?" came Devon's voice from behind him.
"Sweet mother of God, can you hear yourself?" West asked without turning around. "I'd get more manly advice from Kathleen.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“I’m not going to ask a thousand people for their opinions,” Phoebe said evenly. “Only one opinion is required, and it happens to be mine.” She went to the doorway and paused, unable to resist adding, “That’s leadership.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“There are all different kinds of smut,” Pandora said, warming to the subject. “Smut balls, loose smut, stinking smut—”
“Pandora,” West interrupted in an undertone, “for the love of mercy, stop saying that word in public.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker’s man . . .” Evie chanted as she played with Stephen in the Challons’ private railway carriage. They occupied one side of a deep upholstered settee, with Sebastian lounging in the other corner. The baby clapped his tiny hands along with his grandmother, his rapt gaze fastened on her face. “Make me a cake as fast as you can . . .”
The nursery rhyme concluded, and Evie cheerfully began again. “Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake—”
“My sweet,” Sebastian interrupted, “we’ve been involved in the manufacture of cakes ever since we set foot on the train. For my sanity, I beg you to choose another game.”
“Stephen,” Evie asked her grandson, “do you want to play peekaboo?”
“No,” came the baby’s grave answer.
“Do you want to play ‘beckoning the chickens?’”
“No.”
Evie’s impish gaze flickered to her husband before she asked the child, “Do you want to play horsie with Gramps?”
“Yes!”
Sebastian grinned ruefully and reached for the boy. “I knew I should have kept quiet.” He sat Stephen on his knee and began to bounce him, making him squeal with delight.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Sebastian, the Duke of Kingston, radiated the cool confidence of a man who had been born to privilege. Unlike most British peers, who were disappointingly average, Kingston was dashing and ungodly handsome, with the taut, slim physique pf a man half his age. Known for his shrewd mind and caustic wit, he oversaw a labyrinthine financial empire that included, of all things, a gentlemen's gaming club. If his fellow noblemen expressed private distaste for the vulgarity of owning such an enterprise, none dared criticize him publicly. He was the holder of too many debts, the possessor of too many ruinous secrets. With a few words or strokes of a pen, Kingston could have reduced nearly any proud aristocratic scion to beggary.
Unexpectedly, rather sweetly, the duke seemed more than little enamored of his own wife. One of his hands lingered idly at the small of her back, his enjoyment in touching her covert but unmistakable. One could hardly blame him. Evangeline, the duchess, was a spectacularly voluptuous woman with apricot-red hair, and merry blue eyes set in a lightly freckled complexion. She looked warm and radiant, as if she'd been steeped in a long autumn sunset.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“You took it with good grace when you could have sliced him to ribbons with a few words."
"I was tempted," she admitted. "But I couldn't help remembering something Mother once said."
It had been on a long-ago morning in her childhood, when she and Gabriel had still needed books stacked on their chairs whenever they sat at the breakfast table. Their father had been reading a freshly ironed newspaper, while their mother, Evangeline, or Evie, as family and friends called her, fed spoonfuls of sweetened porridge to baby Raphael in his high chair.
After Phoebe had recounted some injustice done to her by a playmate, saying she wouldn't accept the girl's apology, her mother had persuaded her to reconsider for the sake of kindness.
"But she's a bad, selfish girl," Phoebe had said indignantly.
Evie's reply was gentle but matter-of-fact. "Kindness counts the most when it's given to people who don't deserve it."
"Does Gabriel have to be kind to everyone too?" Phoebe had demanded.
"Yes, darling."
"Does Father?"
"No, Redbird," her father had replied, his mouth twitching at the corners. "That's why I married your mother- she's kind enough for two people."
"Mother," Gabriel had asked hopefully, "could you be kind enough for three people?"
At that, their father had taken a sudden intense interest in his newspaper, lifting it in front of his face. A quiet wheeze emerged from behind it.
"I'm afraid not, dear," Evie had said gently, her eyes sparkling. "But I'm sure you and your sister can find a great deal of kindness in your own hearts."
Returning her thoughts to the present, Phoebe said, "Mother told us to be kind even to people who don't deserve it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“What do you think of Lord St. Vincent?” Pandora asked eagerly.
West’s gaze moved to a man who appeared to be a younger version of his sire, with bronze-gold hair that gleamed like new-minted coins. Princely handsome. A cross between Adonis and the Royal Coronation Coach.
With deliberate casualness, West said, “He’s not as tall as I expected.”
Pandora looked affronted. “He’s every bit as tall as you!”
“I’ll eat my hat if he’s an inch over four foot seven.” West clicked his tongue in a few disapproving tsk-tsks. “And still in short trousers.”
Half annoyed, half amused, Pandora gave him a little shove. “That’s his younger brother Ivo, who is eleven. The one next to him is my fiancé.”
“Aah. Well, I can see why you’d want to marry that one.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“You have a backbone of steel. You went through months of hell looking after a small child, a dying husband and an entire household, with unholy patience. You missed meals and went without sleep, but you never forgot to read Justin a bedtime story and tuck him in at night. When you let yourself cry and fall apart, it was only in private, for a few minutes, and then you washed your face, put your broken heart back together, and went out with a cheerful expression and a half-dozen handkerchiefs in your pockets. And you did all of it while feeling queasy most of the time because you were expecting another child. You never failed the people who needed you. You're not going to fail them now."
Shocked down to her soul, Phoebe could only manage a whisper. "Who told you all that?"
"No one." The smile at the corners of his eyes deepened. "Phoebe... anyone who knows you, even a little, would know these things about you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“She made a face and looked up at him. “I wish you would do it. Couldn’t I hire you? Indefinitely? How expensive are you?” His mouth quirked, his eyes suddenly hard and humorless. “At face value, I’m cheap. But I come with hidden costs.” Drawing closer, Phoebe hugged herself to him and laid her head against his chest. Eventually his arms lifted around her, and the pressure of his cheek came to her hair. “I’ll help you,” he said. “I’ll make sure you have whatever you need.” You’re what I need, she thought.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“I don’t expect ever to find the kind of happiness I had with Henry.” “Why not?” “A love like that can only happen once in a lifetime.” Gabriel pondered that. “I certainly don’t understand everything about love,” he said almost humbly. “But I don’t think it works like that.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Merritt, I’m thinking about having an affair with West Ravenel. I know it’s wrong . . . but how wrong?” “Don’t ask me,” Merritt would probably say, her eyes laughing. “As a moral relativist, I’m thoroughly unqualified to judge your decisions.” “A fine help you are,” Phoebe would retort. “I want someone to give me permission.” “No one can do that but you, dear.” “What if it turns out to be a mistake?” “Then I suspect you’ll have had a delightful time making it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Kindness counts the most when it’s given to people who don’t deserve it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Pandora was an unconventional girl: impulsive, intelligent, and usually filled with more energy than she seemed able to manage. Of all the three Ravenel sisters, she had been the least likely to marry the most eligible bachelor in England. However, it spoke well of Gabriel, Lord St. Vincent, that he was able to appreciate her. In fact, from all accounts, St. Vincent had gone head over heels for her.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Discovering a note in the mending basket, Phoebe plucked it out and unfolded it. She instantly recognized West's handwriting.

Unemployed Feline Seeking Household Position


To Whom It May Concern,
I hereby offer my services as an experienced mouser and personal companion. References from a reputable family to be provided upon request. Willing to accept room and board in lieu of pay. Indoor lodgings preferred.

Your servant,
Galoshes the Cat

Glancing up from the note, Phoebe found her parents' questioning gazes on her. "Job application," she explained sourly. "From the cat."
"How charming," Seraphina exclaimed, reading over her shoulder.
"'Personal companion,' my foot," Phoebe muttered. "This is a semi-feral animal who has lived in outbuildings and fed on vermin."
"I wonder," Seraphina said thoughtfully. "If she were truly feral, she wouldn't want any contact with humans. With time and patience, she might become domesticated."
Phoebe rolled her eyes. "It seems we'll find out."
The boys returned from the dining car with a bowl of water and a tray of refreshments. Galoshes descended to the floor long enough to devour a boiled egg, an anchovy canapé, and a spoonful of black caviar from a silver dish on ice. Licking her lips and purring, the cat jumped back into Phoebe's lap and curled up with a sigh.
"I'd say she's adjusting quite well," Seraphina commented with a grin, and elbowed Phoebe gently. "One never knows who might rise above their disreputable past.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“No,” Phoebe said hastily, “I meant I wouldn’t think about it.” But he looked more disgruntled with each passing second. “That didn’t count as a real kiss. I’d just started.” “I know. But all the same, it was very nice, so there’s no need to—” “Nice?” “Yes.” Phoebe wondered why he looked so insulted. “If I have only one chance in a lifetime to kiss you,” he said grimly, “I’ll be damned if it’s going to be second rate. A man has standards.” “I didn’t say it was second rate,” she protested. “I said it was nice!” “The average man would rather be shot in the arse than have a woman call his lovemaking ‘nice.’” “Oh, come, you’re making too much of this.” “Now I have to do it over.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Just because you’ve given up all masculine pride,” he muttered, “doesn’t mean I have to do the same.” “Do you know what kind of men are able to keep their masculine pride?” Devon asked. “Celibate ones. The rest of us don’t mind doing a little begging and appeasing, if it means not having to sleep alone.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“West’s mouth slid from hers and followed the line of her throat. Finding the throb of her pulse, he kissed and nuzzled it ardently. “You’re not a possession,” he said raggedly. “You can’t be passed from one man to another like a painting or an antique vase.” Her voice was faint. “That’s not how it is.” “Has he told you he wants you?” “Not the way you mean. He . . . he’s a gentleman . . .” “I want you with my entire body.” West dragged his mouth over hers, shaping her lips before settling in for a rough and ardent kiss. He hitched her up against him until her toes barely touched the floor. “You’re all I think about. You’re all I see. You’re the center of a star, and the force of gravity keeps pulling me closer, and I don’t give a damn that I’m about to be incinerated.” He rested his forehead against hers, panting. “That’s what he should tell you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“I do appreciate, Ernestine, that your first instinct is not to prevent me from doing something scandalous, but to help me get away with it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“West lounged on the floor between her two sons, a heavy forelock of dark hair falling over his forehead. “What does a chicken say?” he asked Stephen, holding up a wooden figure. The toddler took it from him and answered, “Rowwr!” West blinked in surprise and began to chuckle along with Justin. “By God, that is a fierce chicken.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“People are always telling us what they think we want to hear. Raw honesty is a refreshing change, isn't it?"
"Refreshing for you, perhaps," Phoebe said with a reluctant smile. "Well, you'll certainly get that from Pandora. She's incapable of being awed by anyone."
"It's one of the reasons I love her," her brother admitted. "I also love her wit, her zest for life, and the fact that she needs me to keep her from walking in circles.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“As they talked, West reflected privately that he knew exactly why people confided in Tom Severin, who never muddled an issue with moralizing or judgements, and never tried to change your opinions or talk you out of wanting something. Severin was never shocked by anything. And although he could be frequently disloyal or dishonorable, he was never dishonest.
"I'll tell you what your problem is," Severin eventually said. "It's feelings."
West paused with a crystal glass of brandy close to his lips. "Do you mean that unlike you, I have them?"
"I have feelings too, but I never let them turn into obstacles. If I were in your situation, for example, I would marry the woman I wanted and not worry about what was best for her. And if the children you raise turn out badly, that's their business, isn't it? They'll decide for themselves whether or not they want to be good. Personally, I've always seen more advantage in being bad. Everyone knows the meek won't really inherit the earth. That's why I don't hire meek people."
"I hope you're never going to be a father," West said sincerely.
"Oh, I will," Severin said. "I have to leave my fortune to someone, after all. I'd rather it be my own offspring- it's the next best thing to leaving it to myself.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“After a brief murmured exchange, the lady's maid opened the door a bit wider, and Phoebe's brother Ivo stuck his head inside.
"Hullo, sis," he said casually. "You look very nice in that gold dress."
"It's ecru." At his perplexed look, she repeated, "Ecru."
"God bless you," Ivo said, and gave her a cheeky grin as he entered the room.
Phoebe lifted her gaze heavenward. "Why are you here, Ivo?"
"I'm going to escort you downstairs, so you don't have to go alone."
Phoebe was so moved, she couldn't speak. She could only stare at the eleven-year-old boy, who was volunteering to take the place her husband would have assumed.
"It was Father's idea," Ivo continued, a touch bashfully. "I'm sorry I'm not as tall as the other ladies' escorts, or even as tall as you. I'm really only half an escort. But that's still better than nothing, isn't it?" His expression turned uncertain as he saw that her eyes were watering.
After clearing her throat, Phoebe managed an unsteady reply. "At this moment, my gallant Ivo, you tower above every other gentleman here. I'm so very honored."
He grinned and offered his arm in a gesture she had seen him practice in the past with their father. "The honor is mine, sis."
In that moment, Phoebe had the briefest intimation of what Ivo would be like as a full-grown man, confident and irresistibly charming.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter