Devon Ravenel Quotes

“West turned his attention back to Cassandra. “Sweetheart, none of us could bear seeing you in a one-sided marriage. Don’t expect Severin to change. You can’t love someone into loving you back.”
“I understand,” Cassandra said. “But even if Tom is never able to return my feelings, he has qualities that make up for it.”
“What qualities?” Devon asked, plainly bewildered. “I’ve always thought I understood you well, but this … you and Severin … it makes no sense to me.”
As Cassandra considered how to explain, she heard Phoebe point out with a touch of amusement, “It’s not that improbable, is it? Mr. Severin is a very attractive man.”
Both Ravenel brothers looked at her blankly.
“Oh, yes,” Kathleen agreed. “Not to mention charming.”
West rolled his eyes and gave Devon a resigned glance. “He’s always had it,” he said flatly. “That thing women like.”
“What thing?” Devon asked.
“The secret, mysterious thing I’ve always wished someone would explain so we could pretend to have it too.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Tom looked at St. Vincent. “I assume the editor at the Chronicle refused to divulge the writer’s identity?”
St. Vincent looked rueful. “Categorically. I’ll have to find a way to pry it out of him without bringing the entire British press to his defense.”
“Yes,” Tom mused, tapping his lower lip with a fingertip, “they tend to be so touchy about protecting their sources.”
“Trenear,” Lord Ripon said through gritted teeth, “will you kindly throw him out?”
“I’ll see myself out,” Tom said casually. He turned as if to leave, and paused as if something had just occurred to him. “Although … as your friend, Trenear, I find it disappointing that you haven’t asked about my day. It makes me feel as if you don’t care.”
Before Devon could respond, Pandora jumped in. “I will,” she volunteered eagerly. “How was your day, Mr. Severin?”
Tom sent her a brief grin. “Busy. After six tedious hours of business negotiations, I paid a call to the chief editor of the London Chronicle.”
St. Vincent lifted his brows. “After I’d already met with him?”
Trying to look repentant, Tom replied, “I know you said not to. But I had a bit of leverage you didn’t.”
“Oh?”
“I told him the paper’s owner would dismiss him and toss him out on the pavement if he didn’t name the anonymous writer.”
St. Vincent stared at him quizzically. “You bluffed?”
“No, that is what the business negotiations were about. I’m the new owner. And while the chief editor happens to be a staunch advocate for freedom of the press, he’s also a staunch supporter of not losing his job.”
“You just bought the London Chronicle,” Devon said slowly, to make certain he hadn’t misheard. “Today.”
“No one could do that in less than a day,” Ripon sneered.
Winterborne smiled slightly. “He could,” he said, with a nod toward Tom.
“I did,” Tom confirmed, picking idly at a bit of lint on his cuff. “All it took was a preliminary purchase agreement and some earnest money.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“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

“For the time being, all you need to do is become acquainted with St. Vincent. And if you decide you don't wish to marry him, for any reason, you won't have to."
They both stood. Impulsively, Pandora stepped forward and dove her face against Devon's chest and hugged him, undoubtedly surprising I'm as much as herself. She rarely sought out physical contact with anyone. "Thank you," she said in a muffled voice. "It means a great deal that my feelings matter to you."
"Of course they do, sweetheart." Devon gave her a comforting squeeze before drawing back to look down at her. "Do you know the motto on the Ravenel coat of arms?"
"Loyalté nous lie."
Do you know what that means?"
"'Never make us angry?'" Pandora guessed, and was rewarded by his deep laugh. "Actually, I do know," she said. "It means 'loyalty binds us.'"
"That's right," Devon said. "Whatever happens, we Ravenels will remain loyal to each other. We'll never sacrifice one for the sake of the rest.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Spring

“For the time being, all you need to do is become acquainted with St. Vincent. And if you decide you don't wish to marry him, for any reason, you won't have to."
They both stood. Impulsively, Pandora stepped forward and dove her face against Devon's chest and hugged him, undoubtedly surprising him as much as herself. She rarely sought out physical contact with anyone. "Thank you," she said in a muffled voice. "It means a great deal that my feelings matter to you."
"Of course they do, sweetheart." Devon gave her a comforting squeeze before drawing back to look down at her. "Do you know the motto on the Ravenel coat of arms?"
"Loyalté nous lie."
Do you know what that means?"
"'Never make us angry?'" Pandora guessed, and was rewarded by his deep laugh. "Actually, I do know," she said. "It means 'loyalty binds us.'"
"That's right," Devon said. "Whatever happens, we Ravenels will remain loyal to each other. We'll never sacrifice one for the sake of the rest.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Spring

“He hated it when women cried. At the first sign of tears, he had always bolted like a hare at a coursing. But as soon as his arms had gone around Kathleen, in one ordinary instant, the world, the past, everything he'd always been certain of had all been obliterated. She had reached for him, not out of passion or fear, but the simple human need for closeness. It had electrified him. No one had ever sought comfort from him before, and the act of giving it had felt more unspeakably intimate than the most torrent sexual encounter. He'd felt the force of his entire being wrap around her in a moment of sweet, raw connection.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Cold-Hearted Rake

“Out of regard for me, if for no other reason, he shouldn't have taken the innocence of a young woman under my protection. It's a matter of respect."
Kathleen hoisted herself more fully over him, staring down into his blue eyes. "This," she mocked gently, "from a man who seduced me in nearly every room, stairwell and hay-nook of Eversby Priory. Where was your regard for innocence then?"
His frown disappeared. "That was different."
"Why, may I ask?"
Devon flipped her over, reversing their positions neatly and surprising a giggle from her. "Because," he said huskily, "I wanted you so much..."
She writhed and laughed as he unfastened her nightgown.
"... and as lord of the manor," he continued, proceeding to strip her naked, "I thought it was time to exercise my droit de seigneur."
"As if I were some medieval peasant girl?" she asked, shoving him onto his back, and climbing over him.
Grabbing his marauding hands, she tried to pin him down with her entire weight.
A deep laugh escaped him. "Love, that won't work. You're no heavier than a butterfly." Clearly enjoying their play, he lay unresisting as she gripped his thick wrists more tightly. "A determined butterfly," he conceded. As he stared up at her, his smile faded, and his eyes darkened to intense blue. "I was a selfish bastard," he said softly. "I shouldn't have seduced you."
"I was willing," Kathleen pointed out, inwardly surprised by his remorse. He was changing, she thought, rapidly gaining maturity as he shouldered the responsibilities that had been forced on him so unexpectedly.
"I would do it differently now. Forgive me." He paused, frowning in self-reproach. "I wasn't raised to be honorable. It's damned difficult to learn."
Kathleen slid her hands over his until their fingers interlaced. "There's nothing to forgive, or regret."
Devon shook his head, not allowing her to absolve him. "Tell me how to atone."
She bent to brush her lips against his. "Love me," she whispered.
With great care, Devon rolled until she was caught beneath him. "Always," he said huskily, and possessed her mouth while his hands slid over her body.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Marrying Winterborne

“Cassandra gave him a reproachful glance. “I thought you liked Mr. Severin.”
“I do, absolutely. He occupies a high place on the list of things I don’t respect myself for liking, right between street food and filthy drinking songs.”
Cassandra was aware that it had always been West’s habit—as well as Devon’s and Winterborne’s—to make sarcastic remarks about Tom Severin, in the way of longstanding friends. But it rankled now in a way it never had before. “After all Mr. Severin has done for our family,” she said quietly, “he deserves more respect than that.”
They were all silent, darting surprised glances at her. Until that moment, Cassandra had never dared to utter one word of reproof to him.
To West’s credit, he considered the point, and relented. “You’re right,” he said in a different tone. “I beg your pardon for being a facetious arse. But I know both of you well enough to be certain you don’t belong together.”
Cassandra met his gaze without blinking. “Is it possible that Mr. Severin and I might know each other in a different way than you know either of us?”
“Touché. Is it possible that you might think you know him far less than you actually do?”
“Touché,” Cassandra replied reluctantly.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“He was handsome... she would give him that. Although not in the way of Theo, who had been blessed with the refined features and golden hair of a young Apollo. Devon Ravenel's dark good looks were bold and raffish, weathered with a cynicism that made him look every bit his twenty-eight years. She felt a shock every time she looked up into his eyes, the blue of a rough winter ocean, the vivid irises rimmed with blue-black. His face was smooth shaven, but the lower half was shadowed with a beard grain that even the sharpest razor would not completely remove.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Cold-Hearted Rake

“Kathleen is not heartless, you see," Helen murmured. "She feels very deep sorrow. It's only that she can't show it."
Devon wasn't certain whether to thank or curse Helen for the revelations. He didn't want to feel any compassion for Kathleen. But the rejection by her parents at such a tender age would have been devastating. He understood all about the desire to avoid painful memories and emotions... the compelling need to keep certain doors closed.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Cold-Hearted Rake

“What a startling sight... a healthy, virile male in his prime. Strong and completely muscled, barbaric and yet beautiful. Fortunately he was facing partially away from her, so that her surveillance went unnoticed. He toweled his hair until the thick locks stood on end and worked down to his arms and chest, scrubbing vigorously. His back was powerful, the line of his spine a pronounced groove. The broad slopes of his shoulders flexed as he draped the towel across and began to dry himself with a sawing motion. A plentitude of hair covered his limbs and the upper portion of his chest, and there was far more at his groin than the decorative tuft she had expected.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Cold-Hearted Rake

“My life... didn't pass before my eyes. All I saw was you." His lashes fell and his hand slipped from her face. He managed one more whisper before he fell asleep. "The last moment, I thought... I would die wanting you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Cold-Hearted Rake

“Devon was madly in love with Kathleen, and along with that came all the jealousy and possessiveness that had plagued generations of Ravenels. While Devon was somewhat more reasonable than the past few earls, that wasn't saying much. Any man who frightened or offended Kathleen would earn his eternal wrath.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Marrying Winterborne

“There's much to do," she said. "The funeral will be in Ireland." She gave Helen a stricken glance. "I haven't been there since I was a child."
"You don't have to make decisions right now," Helen said. "Perhaps you should go upstairs and lie down."
"I can't, there are things I must-" Kathleen stopped as Devon entered the room.
His intent gaze swept over her, coming to rest on her bleached white face. "What is it, love?" he asked gently.
"My father's gone." She tried very hard to sound prosaic. "It's not a surprise, of course. We knew that he was in ill health."
"Yes." Devon came forward and took her rigid form against his, wrapping her in his arms.
"I'm perfectly calm," she said against his shoulder.
"Yes." Devon kissed her temple. His face was taut with concern, the blue eyes hazed with tenderness.
"I'm not going to cry." Her tone was matter-of-fact. "He certainly wouldn't have wanted my tears."
Devon smoothed her hair, his hand covering half her small head. "Give them to me, then," he said softly.
Kathleen hid her face in his shirtfront, her slight form seeming to wilt. In a few seconds, a low, broken keening sound began to emerge without stopping. Her husband laid his cheek on her head and cradled her closer against the solid reassurance of his body.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Marrying Winterborne