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“Her hair was a nimbus, escaping her loose braid and curling about her face and ears. As she leaned over her meal, her breasts pushed dangerously against her bodice, swelling as if they might escape confinement entirely. Her skin was luminous in the firelight, the palest of pinks, shining like satin. Julian could, if he tried, look at her without bias. See that she was plumper than was considered pretty. Shorter than was elegant. With a face that many would think ordinary. Someone who might be lost in a crowd. But to him she was the sun in the sky, shining more brightly than anything else on earth. He should be uneasy at such attraction. She was neither like the aristocratic ladies of London whom he encountered every day nor like the prostitutes he hired covertly on occasional nights. Elspeth was a woman apart, unique unto herself.” — Elizabeth Hoyt