" Oh, Daisy, it’s revolting, the way I want to fawn all over him. I’m afraid that I’m going to do something dreadfully silly today. Burst into song or something. For God’s sake, don’t let me.”
“I won’t,” Daisy promised, smiling back at her. “Are you in love, then?”
“That word is not to be mentioned,” Lillian said swiftly. “Even if I were— and I am not admitting anything— I would never be the first to say it. It’s a matter of pride. And there’s every chance that he won’t say it back, but just respond with a polite ‘thank you,’ in which case I would have to murder him. Or myself.”
“I hope the earl is not equally as stubborn as you,” Daisy commented.
“He isn’t,” Lillian assured her. “Although he thinks he is.” Some private memory caused her to chortle, clasping a hand to her forehead. “Oh, Daisy,” she said with devilish glee, “I’m going to be such an abominable countess.”
“Let’s not put it that way,” Daisy said diplomatically. “Rather, we’ll say ‘unconventional countess.’ ”
“I can be any kind of countess I want,” Lillian said, half in delight, half in wonder. “Westcliff said so. And what’s more… I actually think he means it. "

― Lisa Kleypas , It Happened One Autumn (Wallflowers, #2)