Saving Grace (Fair Cyprians of London 1)

His expression was suddenly serious as he cupped her chin and brought his face level with hers, as if he really could see her.

Grace could barely breathe for the hope, fear, shame and need to be respected that roiled through her.

“You are a prime article, my lovely Grace,” David agreed, softly, caressing the sides of her face with gentle fingertips as the magistrate’s footsteps grew louder. The silence preparatory to the inevitable knock made their legal union suddenly more than just another foolish pipedream.

David’s expression shone. Just as it had when enthusiasm fired him for his art, and for his love for Grace, the parlourmaid.

She closed her eyes in rapture at his touch, at the feel of his sweet breath upon her cheek as he whispered, “And I use the term in its purest sense with no ironic reference to your previous calling. Forget the past. This is the moment our lives begin.”

Pulling her hard against him, he brought his mouth down full upon hers, coming up for air after what seemed a glorious eternity to promise, “Now that I know the worst about you, Grace darling, I look forward to a lifetime discovering the best.”