Marcus Westcliff Quotes

“What did she mean when she said she would lose everything if she married me?" he asked aloud. "Perhaps she's in love with someone. If so-"
"There are young women," Westcliff pointed out dryly, "who have goals other than finding a husband."
Folding his arms across his chest, Gabriel sent him a sardonic glance. "Are there? I've never met one of those."
"I believe you may have just now." The earl glanced back in the direction Lady Pandora had gone. "A wallflower," he said softly, with a faint, reminiscent smile on his lips.
Aside from his father, there was no man Gabriel trusted more than Westcliff, who had always been like an uncle to him. The earl was the kind of man who would always make the moral choice, no matter how difficult.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Spring

“You've never seen my legs, Marcus. You don't know what you're talking about. And coming from a man who takes his pick of the most beautiful women in London as if he were sampling from a tin of bonbons-"
"Are you implying that I'm some shallow fool who values a woman only for her appearance?"
Aline was tempted to retract her charge in the interest of maintaining peace between them. But as she considered the last few women that Marcus had carried on with... "I'm sorry to say, Marcus, that each of your recent choice of companions- the last four or five, at least- displayed all the intelligence of a turnip. And yes, they were all quite beautiful, and I doubt that you were able to to have a sensible conversation with any of them for longer than five minutes."
Marcus stood back and glared at her. "How does that pertain to what we were discussing?"
"It illustrates the point that even you, one of the finest and most honorable men I've ever known, place great importance on physical attractiveness. And if I ever see you consort with a woman who is less than stunningly perfect, then perhaps I'll listen to your lectures on how appearance doesn't matter.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Again the Magic

“My father wanted as little to do with his daughters as possible," Pandora said bluntly. "He considered us nuisances." Lowering her head, she mumbled, "Obviously I've proven him right."
"I wouldn't say so." A touch of amused sympathy warmed the earl's voice. "My own daughters have assured me- more than once- that any well-meaning girl of high spirits can find herself in hot water now and then.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Spring

“His expression was perturbed, as if he’d been reminded of something he had wanted to forget. But as his gaze slid over her bewildered face, his mouth curved a little, and he settled into the cradle of her body with an insolent familiarity that temporarily robbed her of breath.
“Mr. Rohan … how … why … what are you doing here?”
He replied without moving, as if he were planning to lie there and converse all day. His infinitely polite tone was an unsettling contrast to the intimacy of their position. “Miss Hathaway. What a pleasant surprise. As it happens, I’m visiting friends. And you?”
“I live here.”
“I don’t think so. This is Lord Westcliff’s estate.”
Her heart thundered in her breast as her body absorbed the details of him. “I didn’t mean precisely here, I meant over there, on the other side of the woods. The Ramsay estate. We’ve just taken up residence.” She couldn’t seem to stop herself from chattering in the aftermath of nerves and fright. “What was that noise? What were you doing? Why do you have that tattoo on your arm? It’s a pooka—an Irish creature—isn’t it?”
That last question earned her an arrested stare. Before Rohan could reply, the other two men approached. From her prone position, Amelia had an upside-down view of them. Like Rohan, they were in their shirtsleeves, with waistcoats left unbuttoned.
One of them was a portly old gentleman with a shock of silver hair. He held a small wood-and-metal sextant, which had been strung around his neck on a lanyard. The other, black-haired man looked to be in his late thirties. He wasn’t as tall as Rohan, but he had an air of authority tempered with aristocratic arrogance.
Amelia made a helpless movement, and Rohan lifted away from her with fluid ease. He helped her stand, his arm steadying her. “How far did it go?” he asked the men.
“Devil take the rocket,” came a gravelly reply. “What is the woman’s condition?”
“Unharmed.”
The silver-haired gentleman remarked, “Impressive, Rohan. You covered a distance of fifty yards in no more than five or six seconds.”
“I would hardly miss a chance to leap on a beautiful woman,” Rohan said, causing the older man to chuckle.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Marcus's fear that his wife might succumb to childbed fever receded day by day as Lillian returned to her old self, healthy and slender and vigorous. His relief was vast. He had never known such overwhelming love for one person, nor had he anticipated that Lillian would so quickly become his essential requirement for happiness. Anything that was in his power to do for Lillian would be done.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“My lord," she said, inspecting the cuts and burns on his face, "you look like the loser in a tavern brawl."
Coming forward, Westcliff took her hand and executed an impeccable bow over it. He surprised her by pressing a chivalrous kiss to the back of her wrist. "Had I ever participated in a tavern brawl, madam, I assure you that I would not have lost."
That drew a grin from Annabelle, who could not help reflecting that twenty-four hours ago, she had despised his arrogant aplomb, whereas now it seemed almost endearing.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“With Lillian, ironically, the Bowmans had reached their highest pinnacle in having married her to Marcus, Lord Westcliff. No one could have believed that the reserved and powerful earl would have wed a headstrong girl like Lillian. But Westcliff had seen beneath Lillian's brash façade to the vulnerability and fiercely loving heart she tried so hard to concede.”
― Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas

“The Ravenels have always been known for their volatile temperaments."
"Thank you," Gabriel said sourly. "Now I won't be surprised when my future offspring emerge with horns and tails."
Westcliff smiled. "In my experience, it's all in how you handle them." The earl was the calm, steady center of his own boisterous family, which included a high-spirited wife and a brood of rambunctious offspring.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Spring

“As they talked, Merritt entertained him with stories of her childhood in Hampshire as the oldest of six siblings. Her father, the earl, loomed large in those stories, as a loving parent and a man of great authority and responsibility. His marriage to Lillian Bowman, an American heiress, had been an improbable match, but the union had turned out to be a remarkably happy one. Merritt's mother was a lively and lighthearted woman, the kind of mother who had romped outside with her children and splashed in puddles with them, and encouraged their flights of fancy.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“My father..." Daisy began, then bit her lip. This man was her father's business partner. It was not appropriate to run to Westcliff with complaints. But the patience in his expression encouraged her to continue. "He called me a parasite," she said, keeping her voice soft to avoid disturbing Lillian. "He asked me to tell him how the world has benefitted from my existence, or what I had done for anyone."
"And your reply?" Westcliff asked.
"I... couldn't think of anything to say."
Westcliff's coffee-colored eyes were unfathomable. He made a gesture for her to approach the settee, and she obeyed. To her astonishment, he took her hand in his and gripped it warmly. The usually circumspect earl had never done such a thing before.
"Daisy," Westcliff said gently, "most lives are not distinguished by great achievements. They are measured by an infinite number of small ones. Each time you do a kindness for someone or bring a smile to his face, it gives your life meaning. Never doubt your value, little friend. The world would be a dismal place without Daisy Bowman in it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Damn," Westcliff finally exclaimed. "I have occasional business dealings with their father. How am I supposed to face Thomas Bowman without remembering that I've seen his daughter in her underwear?"
"Daughters," Simon corrected. "They were both there."
"I only noticed the taller one."
"Lillian?"
"Yes, that one." A scowl crossed Westcliff's face. "Good God, no wonder they're all unmarried! They're heathens even by American standards. And the way that woman spoke to me, as if I should have been embarrassed to interrupt their pagan revelry-”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“Everyone had said from the beginning that the earl of Westcliff and a brash American heiress were the most improbable pairing imaginable. But before long Lillian had discovered that beneath Marcus's outward reserve, there was a man of passion, tenderness, and humor. And for his part, Marcus had seemed to enjoy her irreverence and high-spirited nature.”
― Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas

“Chaworth," the dark-haired man beside him intervened quietly, "if I may speak."
The speaker was ruggedly attractive, with boldly hewn features and the sun-browned complexion of an avid outdoorsman. Although he was not young- his black locks were liberally shot with steel, and time had deepened the laugh-lines around his eyes and the brackets between his nose and mouth- he certainly couldn't have been called old. Not with that air of robust health, and the presence of a man with considerable authority.
"I've known the lad since the day he was born," he continued, voice deep and a bit gravelly. "As you know, his father is a close friend. I'll vouch for his character, and his word. For the girl's sake, I suggest that we hold our silence and handle the matter with discretion."
"I am also acquainted with his father," Lord Chaworth snapped, "who plucked many a fair flower in his day. Obviously the son is following in his footsteps. No, Westcliff, I will not remain silent- he must be held accountable for his actions."
Westcliff? Pandora glanced at him with alert interest. She had heard of the Earl of Westcliff, who, after the Duke of Norfolk, held the oldest and most respectable peerage title in England. His vast Hampshire estate, Stony Cross Park, was famed for its fishing, hunting, and shooting.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Spring

“You are wrong to assume that I insist upon perfection in a woman. I enjoy physical beauty like any other man, but it's hardly a requirement. That would be hypocritical, coming from a man who is far from handsome himself."
Aline paused in surprise, regarding his broad, even features, his strong jaw, the shrewd black eyes set beneath the straight lines of his brows. "You are attractive," she said earnestly. "Perhaps not in the way that someone like Mr. Shaw is... but few men are."
Her brother shrugged. "Believe me, it doesn't matter, since I've never found my looks- or lack thereof- to be an impediment in any way. Which has given me a very balanced perspective on the subject of physical beauty- a perspective that someone with your looks rarely attains."
Aline frowned, wondering if she was being criticized.
"It must be extraordinarily difficult," Marcus continued, "for a woman as beautiful as you to feel that there is a part of you that is shameful and must be concealed. You've never made peace with it, have you?"
Leaning her head back against the settee, Aline shook her head. "I hate these scars. I'll never stop wishing that I didn't have them. And there's nothing I can do to change them."
"Just as McKenna can never change his origins."
"If you're trying to draw a parallel, Marcus, it won't do any good. McKenna's origins have never mattered to me. There is nothing that would make me stop loving him-" She stopped abruptly as she understood the point he had been leading to.
"Don't you think he would feel the same way about your legs?"
"I don't know."
"For God's sake, go tell him the truth. This isn't the time for you to let your pride get the better of you."
His words kindled sudden outrage. "This has nothing to do with pride!"
"Oh?" Marcus gave her a sardonic look. "You can't bear to let McKenna know that you're less than perfect. What is that if not pride?”
― Lisa Kleypas, Again the Magic

“Her parents and Seraphina were there to keep her company, as were Lord and Lady Westcliff, whom she and her siblings had always called "Uncle Marcus" and "Aunt Lillian."
Lord Westcliff's hunting estate, Stony Cross Park, was located in Hampshire, not far from Eversby Priory. The earl and his wife, who had originally been an American heiress from New York, had raised three sons and three daughters. Although Aunt Lillian had teasingly invited Phoebe to have her pick of any of her robust and handsome sons, Phoebe had answered- quite truthfully- that such a union would have felt positively incestuous. The Marsden and the Challons had spent too many family holidays together and had known each other for too long for any romantic sparks to fly between their offspring.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“To Phoebe's relief, the gathering in the drawing room turned out to be far less intimidating than she'd expected. Her parents and Seraphina were there to keep her company, as were Lord and Lady Westcliff, whom she and her siblings had always called "Uncle Marcus" and "Aunt Lillian."
Lord Westcliff's hunting estate, Stony Cross Park, was located in Hampshire, not far from Eversby Priory. The earl and his wife, who had originally been an American heiress from New York, had raised three sons and three daughters. Although Aunt Lillian had teasingly invited Phoebe to have her pick of any of her robust and handsome sons, Phoebe had answered- quite truthfully- that such a union would have felt positively incestuous. The Marsdens and the Challons had spent too many family holidays together and had known each other for too long for any romantic sparks to fly between their offspring.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“As she pondered how to reply, she thought of a conversation she'd once had with her father, the most sensible man who'd ever existed. They'd been talking about various problems she'd faced after taking the reins at Sterling Enterprises, and she'd asked how he knew whether a risk was worth taking.
Her father had said, "Before taking a risk, begin by asking yourself what's important to you."
Time, Merritt thought. Life is full of wasted time.
She hadn't realized it until now, but her awareness of squandered time had been growing during the past year, eroding her usual patience. So many rules had been invented to keep people apart and wall off every natural instinct. She was tired of them. She had started to resent all the invisible barriers between herself and what she wanted.
It occurred to her this must be how her mother often felt. As a strong-willed young heiress, Mama had come to England with her younger sister, Aunt Daisy, when no gentlemen in New York had been willing to offer for either of them. Wallflowers, both of them, chafing at the limitations of polite behavior. Even now, Mama spoke and acted a little too freely at times, but Papa seemed to enjoy it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“With every single horse I own, I often lay the reins on his neck and let him move forward to find his own natural balance and gait. I've seen far too many overbearing riders constantly manage and adjust the horse to force its obedience. Every little toss of the head or momentary hesitation is corrected. A variety of torturous bits, spurs, and straps are employed to make it submit. Some horses endure such treatment, but far more are ruined by it. Always let a horse be a horse." He paused. "Do you take my meaning?"
"Aye, milord."
"Was an analogy really necessary, Westcliff?" Kingston asked. "You could have simply said, 'Please be kind to my headstrong daughter and don't break her spirit.'"
"Force of habit," the earl said. "None of my sons pay attention unless it's horses.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Well, naturally. Keir is descended from my line. Our virility is unmatched."
Westcliff tried to look severe. "You realize, Kingston, that my first grandchild has been sired by your illegitimate offspring."
"Yes, yes, who cares about legitimacy. This child will be magnificent. With my looks and your brains..."
"It could have my looks and your brains," Westcliff pointed out.
"Don't be such a pessimist. Bring the brandy bottle over here, and we'll start making plans."
And the two old friends grinned at each other as they clinked their glasses.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Making a shallow bow, Marcus smiled at Daisy, for whom he thought he could easily develop a brotherly affection. The slightness of her form and her sweetly exuberant spirit reminded him of Livia in her younger years.”
― Lisa Kleypas, It Happened One Autumn

“An uneasy truce had come to exist between Lillian and St. Vincent after a great deal of past conflict. Although she would never truly like him, Lillian had prosaically decided that St. Vincent would have to be tolerated, since he had been friends with Westcliff for years.
Lillian knew if she asked her husband to end the friendship he would do so for her sake, but she loved him too much to make such a demand. And St. Vincent was good for Marcus. With his wit and perceptiveness, he helped to bring a measure of balance to Marcus's overburdened life. Marcus, as one of the most powerful men in England, was in dire need of people who didn't take him too seriously.
The other point in St. Vincent's favor was that he appeared to be a good husband to Evie. He seemed to worship her, actually. One would never have thought of putting them together- Evie the shy wallflower, St. Vincent the heartless rake- and yet they have developed a singular attachment to each other.
St. Vincent was self-assured and sophisticated, possessing a male beauty so dazzling that people sometimes caught their breath when they glanced at him. But all it took was one word from Evie to make him come running. Even though their relationship was quieter, less outwardly demonstrative than those of the Hunts or Westcliffs, a mysterious and passionate intensity existed between the two.
And as long as Evie was happy, Lillian would be cordial to St. Vincent.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Llandrindon joined in the discussion. "I believe what Mardling is asking," he said, "is how one will be able to tell the difference between a shopgirl and a well-to-do woman if they are both clean and similarly dressed. And if a gentleman is not able to tell what they are by their appearance, how is he to know how to treat them?"
Stunned by the snobbery of the question, Matthew considered his reply carefully. "I've always thought all women should be treated with respect no matter what their station."
"Well said," Westcliff said gruffly, as Llandrindon opened his mouth to argue.
No one wished to contradict the earl, but Mardling pressed, "Westcliff, do you see nothing harmful in encouraging the poor to rise above their stations? In allowing them to pretend there is no difference between them and ourselves?"
"The only harm I see," Westcliff said quietly, "is in discouraging people who want to better themselves, out of fear that we will lose our perceived superiority."
The statement caused Matthew to like the earl even more than he had previously.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Marriage and motherhood became Lillian, Rafe thought. His sister had always been a headstrong creature, but now she seemed calmer and happier than he had ever seen her before. He could only credit Westcliff for that, although how such a proper and autocratic man could accomplish such a change in Lillian was a mystery. One would have thought the pair would have killed each other within the first month of marriage.”
― Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas

“The host of the evening, Lord Westcliff, approached to exchange pleasantries with Beatrix, Amelia, and Catherine. Beatrix had always liked the earl, a courteous and honorable man whose friendship had benefitted the Hathaways on countless occasions. With his rugged features, coal-black hair, and dark eyes, he was striking rather than handsome. He wore an aura of power comfortable and without fanfare. Westcliff asked Catherine to dance with him, a mark of favor that was hardly lost on the other guests, and she complied with a smile.
"How kind he is," Amelia said to Beatrix as they watched the earl lead Catherine into the midst of the whirling couples. "I've noticed that he always makes a point of being obliging and gracious to the Hathaways. That way, no one would dare cut or snub us."
"I think he likes unconventional people. He's not nearly as staid as one might assume."
"Lady Westcliff has certainly said as much," Amelia replied, smiling.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Love in the Afternoon

“After you told me about the shirt cuff, I told you about the time I spilled ink on a map in my father's study."
He shook his head, baffled.
"It was a rare two-hundred-year-old map of the British Isles," Merritt explained. "I'd gone into my father's study to play with a set of inkwell bottles, which I'd been told not to do. But they were such tempting little etched glass bottles, and one of them was filled with the most resplendent shade of emerald green you've ever seen. I dipped a pen in it, and accidentally dribbled some onto the map, which had been spread out on his desk. It made a horrid splotch right in the middle of the Oceanus Germanicus. I was standing there, weeping with shame, when Papa walked in and saw what had happened."
"What did he do?" Keir asked, now looking interested.
"He was quiet at first. Waging a desperate battle with his temper, I'm sure. But then his shoulders relaxed, and he said in a thoughtful tone, 'Merritt, I suspect if you drew some legs on that blotch, it would make an excellent sea monster.' So I added little tentacles and fangs, and I drew a three-masted ship nearby." She paused at the flash of Keir's grin, the one that never failed to make her a bit light-headed. "He had it framed and hung it on the wall over his desk. To this day, he claims it's his favorite work of art."
Amusement tugged at one corner of his mouth. "A good father," he commented.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“The revolver was chambered for .442 rounds, which meant there was only room for five. "These are large caliber bullets for such a short gun," Merritt remarked.
"It's designed to stop someone at close range," Ethan said, absently arching up to rub a spot on his chest. "Being hit by one of those bullets feels like a kick from a mule."
"Why is the hammer bobbed?"
"To keep it from catching on the holster or clothing, if I have to draw it fast."
Keeping the muzzle of the gun pointed away from him, Merritt reassembled the revolver, slid the extractor rod into place, and locked it deftly.
"Well done," Ethan commented, surprised by her assurance. "You're familiar with guns, then."
"Yes, my father taught me. May I shoot it?"
"What are you going to aim for?"
By this time, the others had come out from the parlor to watch.
"Uncle Sebastian," Merritt asked, "are those pottery rabbits on the stone wall valuable?"
Kingston smiled slightly and shook his head. "Have at it."
"Wait," Ethan said calmly. "That's a twenty-yard distance. You'll need a longer-range weapon." With meticulous care, he took the revolver from her and replaced it in his coat. "Try this one." Merritt's brows lifted slightly as he pulled a gun from a cross-draw holster concealed by his coat. This time, Ethan handed the revolver to her without bothering to disassemble it first. "It's loaded, save one chamber," he cautioned. "I put the hammer down to prevent accidental discharge."
"A Colt single-action," Merritt said, pleased, admiring the elegant piece, with its four-and-a-half-inch barrel and custom engraving. "Papa has one similar to this." She eased the hammer back and gently rotated the cylinder.
"It has a powerful recoil," Ethan warned.
"I would expect so." Merritt held the Colt in a practiced grip, the fingers of her support hand fit neatly underneath the trigger guard. "Cover your ears," she said, cocking the hammer and aligning the sights. She squeezed the trigger.
An earsplitting report, a flash of light from the muzzle, and one of the rabbit sculptures on the wall shattered.
In the silence that followed, Merritt heard her father say dryly, "Go on, Merritt. Put the other bunny out of its misery."
She cocked the hammer, aimed and fired again. The second rabbit sculpture exploded.
"Sweet Mother Mary," Ethan said in wonder. "I've never seen a woman shoot like that."
"My father taught all of us how to shoot and handle firearms safely," Merritt said, giving the revolver back to him grip-first.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise