By Mary Balogh
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Additional resources for A Promise of Spring
He bent his head and kissed her pale lips. "Come to bed. html ******************* As so often happened after a gloomy day, the clouds had moved off during the evening, and the night was brightly illuminated by an almost full moon and myriad stars. Lady Grace Lampman lay with her head turned to one side, watching her husband sleeping beside her. He looked absurdly young in the repose of sleep, his fair hair rumpled, his usually smiling face relaxed. She felt an ache of tenderness for him. Perhaps there was an end to punishment, after all.
A man who should have love and laughter in his home. And children. And she knew that she was alive again and so full of pain that she did not know quite how she could lie still so as not to disturb him. She must not allow it. She dared not allow it. It was too late now for her to come alive and be the wife Perry needed and deserved. If she came too much alive, she would become too terribly aware of the injustice she had done him, and she would not even be able to be a good wife to him. She would come to watch for signs of discontent in him.
But then she had assumed that that was what sexual relations were supposed to be like. Perry had not been like that at all. Perry had called her beautiful and he had made her feel beautiful in what he had done to her very unhurriedly on the bed before he had fallen asleep. html embarrassed and tense at first because she was a woman approaching her middle age and he little more than a boy, and because it had been fourteen years since she had last been with a man, but he had made her feel like a woman again, like someone of worth, someone desirable before he had lain on her and come into her.