There sat a massive oval vessel, over three feet long and two feet wide, as big as the copper basin his mother had used for boiling her washing. Only this was not a washing copper.
It was made of silver, adorned with mermaids, dolphins, tritons, and a pair of stampeding horses dragging a naked Neptune from the foamy waves. It was Sir Bartholomew's wine cooler- the most valuable item ever made in the Blanchard workshop; the largest piece of silver seen in the city of London for many a month; the prize that Harry Drake had come to steal.

She could refuse to have sex with me every day for the rest of our lives and I still would choose her. That’s how deep I was in this. - Caleb Drake

Yeah, you got married, didn’t you? But,
you only did it because you thought we were over — and we’re not over. We’ll never be over. If you think that little piece of metal on your finger can shield off your feelings for me, you’re wrong. I wore one for five years and there wasn’t a day that went by where I wasn’t wishing it were you.

When people come up on Highway 94 . . . they can come out and sample wine and purchase wine. Eventually, that would be nice.

Her small bedroom was decorated with cheerfully embroidered samplers, which she had stitched herself, and a shelf containing an intricate shellwork tableau. In her parlor, the chimneypiece was crammed with pottery owls, sheep, and dogs, and dishes painted with blue and white Chinoiserie fruits and flowers. Along the picture rail of one wall was an array of brightly colored plates. Dotted about the other walls were half a dozen seascape engravings showing varying climactic conditions, from violent tempest to glassy calm. To the rear was an enormous closet that she used as a storeroom, packed with bottled delicacies such as greengage plums in syrup, quince marmalade, nasturtium pickles, and mushroom catsup, which infused all three rooms with the sharp but tantalizing aromas of vinegar, fruit, and spices.

She shot Rose a look before turning to the hare. She seasoned it, set it in the jug with herbs, bacon, a blade of mace, an onion stuck with cloves, two wineglasses of port, a tablespoonful of currant jelly, and a covering of thin broth, and put it on the heat. Then she moved on to the orange cream. Being fastidious in culinary matters- why estimate and run the risk of being wrong, when you might measure and always be exact?- she took out her balance and weighted the sugar which Rose had ground.