Authors: Mary Nichols
`Is that an
acceptance?' he asked, grinning.
`Of course, it
is. How could you doubt it?'
His lips traced
the contour of her face, roamed down her neck, sending delightful tremors
tingling through her, banishing all sad thoughts from her mind. The privations
she had endured faded into insignificance in the face of a love she knew would
endure all their lives.
She had been
uncommonly attracted to Philip Devonshire before she ever went to France and it
would be Philip Devonshire she married but it was Philippe who had made a woman
of her. They were indivisible, the man beneath the skin was the same, whatever
he was called. Her love. Soon to be her husband.
She pulled
herself from his arms at last. 'Don't you think we had better go and tell Mama
and Papa our news?' She stood up, hauling on his hand. 'They will be imagining
all manner of indiscretions.'
'Not without
justification.' He rose, laughing, and allowed her to lead him to the
withdrawing room, where Lord and Lady Martindale waited.