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“Her hands went still. Hugh stared at the nape of her neck, at the honey-colored wisps curling against her pale skin. Could he chance it? Did he have a choice? "Bravo," called Cross from his seat. "What did you think, Hastings?" He had to clear his throat. "Lovely. You've a splendid voice, Miss Cross." She twisted to look up at him, her eyes shining with delight. "Thank you, sir." Hugh smiled on instinct. That look... She wasn't a beauty, nor even very pretty. London society would call her plain. But when she gazed at a man that way, with her heart in her eyes, she was not ordinary.” — Caroline Linden
Her hands went still. Hugh stared at the nape of her neck, at the honey-colored wisps curling against her pale skin. Could he chance it? Did he have a choice?
"Bravo," called Cross from his seat. "What did you think, Hastings?"
He had to clear his throat. "Lovely. You've a splendid voice, Miss Cross."
She twisted to look up at him, her eyes shining with delight. "Thank you, sir."
Hugh smiled on instinct. That look... She wasn't a beauty, nor even very pretty. London society would call her plain. But when she gazed at a man that way, with her heart in her eyes, she was not ordinary.