Sorcery & Cecelia: or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot (Cecelia and Kate #1)

Anyone who is known as the Mysterious Marquis ought to have far more interesting reasons for his behavior than a stupid dispute with Sir Hilary.

Cecy, I do think it is unfair. People in novels are fainting all the time, and I never can, no matter how badly I need to.

How dreadful...to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules.

I am determined to have the headache Thursday, if I have to hit myself with a rock to do it.

If you brought me out driving just so you could insult me-"
"Oh, not just to insult you.

In short, if we wish to see anything sensible done about the situation we will clearly have to do it ourselves.

In short, if we wish to see anything sensible done about the situation, we will clearly have to do it ourselves.

Luckily for you," he said, "you shed hairpins the way Hansel and Gretel shed crumbs. I followed your trail." He pressed a half dozen hairpins into the palm of my left hand. "Now let us return to light, safety, and society.

Men can be such provoking creatures. One would think the entire world and everything in it were made only for their enjoyment and approval.

No, they'll dance with you and then say I am justly called mysterious," he said.

"You are odious."

"Quite so, but admit you've never danced better than these last few moments when you were too angry to think about it.

Nothing you will object to," James replied in a soothing tone. I cannot think how he came to imagine that he would know what I might or might not object to.

Oliver has stated many times his dislike of hearing advice from his younger sister, so it is his own fault if he has not got sense enough to see which way the wind is blowing.

She probably enjoys cutting up everyone's happiness. Not to mention cutting up other parts of people; given her penchant for poisoning people and turning them into beech trees, I fail to see how she has reached thirty without leaving a trail of bodies behind her.

There is nothing that is quite so reassuring in an awkward situation as knowing that one is well turned-out, and while I hope I am not so fainthearted as to require such stratagems, I am not so foolish as to overlook their value.

Thomas reached out and took my hand, turned it palm up, and said, "I believe that's healing very nicely." Aunt Charlotte opened the door just as he turned my hand over again and brushed a kiss across my knuckles. I experienced a nearly overpowering desire to hit him in the eye.