" What would the ton do without us to feed them scandal broth?”
Grey returned her grin. “The lot of them would starve.”
They chuckled and as the humor faded, Grey tilted his head to look at her. “You look beautiful tonight.”
She flushed, pleasure lighting the dark depths of her eyes. “You don’t have to say such things.”
“I know I don’t, but you are my fiancée and it’s perfectly acceptable for me to voice my thoughts aloud. It’s rather refreshing after keeping them to myself for so long.”
That got her attention. One of her fine, high brows twitched. “How long?”
He grinned. “Since you were old enough for me to think such thoughts without being lecherous.”
They stood no more than six inches apart. Close enough that he could see how amazingly flawless her skin was-not a freckle in sight. Close enough that she could see every twist and knot in his scar-and yet she barely glanced at it. Her gaze was riveted on his. She didn’t care that he was disfigured-at least not on the outside. Not on the inside either, so it seemed.
“I’ve never been a good man,” he confessed-a little more hoarse than he liked-“but I promise to be a faithful husband.” It was the best he could offer, because as much as he would like to be the man she wanted, it wasn’t going to happen.
Her smooth brow puckered. “I haven’t actually consented, you know.”
“Rose, we have to marry.”
“No.” She raised sparkling eyes to his. “I want you to ask me to marry you-not demand it. I don’t care if it has to be done. I want to feel like I have a choice.”
“If you did have a choice, what would it be?” He was on dangerous ground with her, inching into territory better left unexplored for both their sakes.
Rose smiled, and everything was right with the world. “Ask me and find out.”
His hands came up, seemingly of their own volition, to cup her face. She was so delicate, yet so strong. Her entire world had been turned upside down, and yet she faced him with a teasing glint in her eyes and a soft flush of color in her cheeks.
“Rose Danvers, will you do me the extreme honor of becoming my wife?”
Were those tears dampening her eyes? And was it joy or sorrow that put them there?
“I will.”
He knew that they had to marry regardless, but hearing her say those two little words was like someone kicking his heart through his ribs. It hurt, but there was such unfathomable joy that came with it-such terrible happiness that Grey had no idea what to do with it. He’d never felt anything like it before.
Holding her face, he lowered his head and hungrily claimed her mouth with his own. Her lips parted for his tongue as her fingers bit into his arms. A trickle of warm wetness brushed against his thumb. She was crying.
A sharp gasp came from the open door. “What the devil is going on here?”
The kiss and its magic were broken. Rose stepped back, and Grey dropped his hands, but he wasn’t willing to let her go just yet. He placed one arm behind her back, holding her close so that they faced her mother together.
Camilla did not look happy. In fact, she looked like any mother would to walk into a room and find her daughter being molested.
“Mama,” Rose begun. “It’s not what you think.”
“It is exactly what you think,” Grey countered, drawing his friend’s stormy and narrow gaze. “I have asked Rose for her hand in marriage and she has accepted. I regret that you had to find out this way, but I was too overcome with joy to contain my feelings.”
He could feel Rose gaping at him. He didn’t look at her, not because the words were a lie, but because they were all too damnably true. "

― Kathryn Smith , When Seducing a Duke (Victorian Soap Opera, #1)