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“Oh, Penny. He must truly love you," Emma said. "Ash and Chase ate the sham. Gabriel made more."
Penny couldn't believe it. He must have arranged the menu. Of course, he would have done so days ago, well before their argument today. Nevertheless, she was touched by the gesture. He truly had planned this evening for her, down to the last detail.”
― The Wallflower Wager
Penny couldn't believe it. He must have arranged the menu. Of course, he would have done so days ago, well before their argument today. Nevertheless, she was touched by the gesture. He truly had planned this evening for her, down to the last detail.”
― The Wallflower Wager
“Spare change. Can't imagine how it got there."
She tipped her head in reproach.
He exhaled, sounding resigned. "It's not what you think."
She turned her hand palm-up between them, letting the coin serve as its own accusation. "I think I know a shilling when I see one."
"Look again."
She looked down at the coin in her gloved palm, where its embossed face stood out in sharp relief against white satin. Light glinted off the surface, revealing the color to be not the expected dull silver, but a coppery hue instead.
Oh.
A sharp pang of surprise caught her heart. He'd been telling the truth. It wasn't a shilling after all.
It was a penny.
A bright, newly minted penny. One he'd been keeping tucked in his breast pocket. Right next to his heart.
She drew a shaky breath. "Gabriel."
His hands went to her shoulders- but it was his low, husky voice that reached out and drew her close. "You know the squalor I was born to. And you know I promised myself I'd never be that barefoot, starving boy again."
She nodded.
"I have every luxury a man could desire. Hundreds of thousands of pounds in my accounts. I worked like hell to build a fortune, and yet..." His thumb met her cheek with a reverent caress. "Now I'd sell my soul for a Penny.”
― The Wallflower Wager
She tipped her head in reproach.
He exhaled, sounding resigned. "It's not what you think."
She turned her hand palm-up between them, letting the coin serve as its own accusation. "I think I know a shilling when I see one."
"Look again."
She looked down at the coin in her gloved palm, where its embossed face stood out in sharp relief against white satin. Light glinted off the surface, revealing the color to be not the expected dull silver, but a coppery hue instead.
Oh.
A sharp pang of surprise caught her heart. He'd been telling the truth. It wasn't a shilling after all.
It was a penny.
A bright, newly minted penny. One he'd been keeping tucked in his breast pocket. Right next to his heart.
She drew a shaky breath. "Gabriel."
His hands went to her shoulders- but it was his low, husky voice that reached out and drew her close. "You know the squalor I was born to. And you know I promised myself I'd never be that barefoot, starving boy again."
She nodded.
"I have every luxury a man could desire. Hundreds of thousands of pounds in my accounts. I worked like hell to build a fortune, and yet..." His thumb met her cheek with a reverent caress. "Now I'd sell my soul for a Penny.”
― The Wallflower Wager
“Dedication Because little girls don’t stay little forever”
― The Wallflower Wager
― The Wallflower Wager
“You know," Gabe said, "Lady Penelope might actually like some of this artwork. Take a bit more care."
Ash retrieved the small, oval frame from the floor. It held a phenomenally ugly sketch of a cross-eyed, squished-face pug. "This is hideous."
"Yes," Chase agreed. "It's probably her favorite.”
― The Wallflower Wager
Ash retrieved the small, oval frame from the floor. It held a phenomenally ugly sketch of a cross-eyed, squished-face pug. "This is hideous."
"Yes," Chase agreed. "It's probably her favorite.”
― The Wallflower Wager
“I'm not your 'poppet' any longer. I own you. And in the future, if you address me at all, it will be as Lady Penelope Duke." A more fitting idea struck her, and a cold smile touched her lips. "Better yet, you may call me the Duchess of Ruin.”
― The Wallflower Wager
― The Wallflower Wager
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