After Henry's treatment of her she wasn't sure that men could honestly love women but she wanted to believe it. She wanted to be told pretty things and for the frightening clip of her heart to slow to something more reasonable.

Ah well that I can't tell you." Diana ducked her head so that the brim of her bonnet covered her face. "Some things must remain a mystery and for now I think I'll keep my opinion of you and your compliments to myself.

She thought of Henry and Diana on the stoop gazing at each other with the confusion and sadness of two puppies who have just stumbled into their first puddle and not yet come to understand what has happened to them and found that she wanted to lie extravagantly.

The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color -- oranges, pearly pinks, vibrant purples...

It was like the color of his eyes, she supposed - not quite one shade or another, and utterly unlike anyone else's.

The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color...