Tati B M T Brocki

“Daphne Bridgerton, I don't—"
"—like my tone, I know." Daphne grinned. "But you love me."
Violet smiled warmly and wrapped an arm around Daphne's shoulder. "Heaven help me, I do."
Daphne gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek. "It's the curse of motherhood. You're required to love us even when we vex you."
Violet just sighed. "I hope that someday you have children—"
"—just like me, I know." Daphne smiled nostalgically and rested her head on her mother's shoulder. Her mother could be overly inquisitive, and her father had been more interested in hounds and hunting than he'd been in society affairs, but theirs had been a warm marriage, filled with love, laughter, and children. "I could do a great deal worse than follow your example, Mother," she murmured.”
― Julia Quinn, The Duke and I

“She wandered over to the enclosed range, a rather modern-looking contraption that Cook had purchased earlier in the year. “Do you know how to work this?” she asked.

“No idea. You?”

Daphne shook her head. “None.” She reached forward and gingerly touched the surface of the stove top. “It's not hot.”

“Not even a little bit?”

She shook her head. “It's rather cold, actually.”

Brother and sister were silent for a few seconds.

“You know,” Anthony finally said, “cold milk might be quite refreshing.”

“I was just thinking that very thing!”
― Julia Quinn, The Duke and I

“Anthony sneezed and pushed them aside. "Mother, I am trying to have a conversation with the duke."

Violet looked at Simon. "Do you want to have this conversation with my son?"

"Not particularly."

"Fine, then. Anthony, be quiet.”
― Julia Quinn, The Duke and I

“Colin's chuckles grew more heartfelt. "You really ought to have more faith in your favorite brother, dear sis."
"He’s your favorite brother?" Simon asked, one dark brow raised in disbelief.
"Only because Gregory put a toad in my bed last night," Daphne bit off, "and Benedict's standing has never recovered from the time he beheaded my favorite doll."
"Makes me wonder what Anthony's done to deny him even an honorable mention," Colin murmured.
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Daphne asked pointedly.
Colin shrugged. "Not really."
"Didn't," she asked through clenched teeth, "you just tell me you promised a dance to Prudence Featherington?"
"Gads, no. You must have misheard."
"Perhaps Mother is looking for you, then. In fact, I'm certain I hear her calling your name."
Colin grinned at her discomfort. "You're not supposed to be so obvious," he said in a stage whisper, purposely loud enough for Simon to hear. "He'll figure out that you like him."
Simon's entire body jerked with barely contained mirth.
"It's not his company I'm trying to secure," Daphne said acidly. "It's yours I'm trying to avoid."
Colin clapped a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Daff." He turned to Simon. "Oh, how she wounds me."
"You missed your calling, Bridgerton," Simon said genially. "You should have been on the stage."
"An interesting idea," Colin replied, "but one that would surely give my mother the vapors." His eyes lit up. "Now that's an idea. And just when the party was growing tedious. Good eve to you both." He executed a smart bow and walked off.”
― Julia Quinn, The Duke and I