What do you think?
Rate this book


304 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 10, 2015



"Brave Lord Leoline.""A Seduction in Winter" by Carolyn Jewel
"It's you who is brave."
"No." She reached into the box and handed him a tart then gave one to Gilman before taking one for herself. "I know how to live the life that belongs to me."
"I want to try." He touched her undamaged cheek. "To capture you in lines and color."
"Who would want to paint my face?" She touched her scar. He was talented enough to want experience with oils and more complicated compositions than what she saw here.
"I hardly think of your scar anymore." He paused. "Is that odd? I don't know if it is. I suspect so."
"It is."
He started to speak then stopped, started again. "Why? Why is it odd? Because your father's made you ashamed to be seen when there's no reason for it?" He pressed both palms to the table and leaned toward her. "You are lovely. Breathtaking. You must see that when you look in the mirror."
"I never do if it can be helped."
"No one who comes to know you will care about your scar."
She shrugged. "They do."
"How would you know? You've hardly let anyone know you. He's kept you away from everyone."
"You've had too much to drink."
"I haven't. You look at yourself and see only that scar, as if you consist of nothing else. But I see you. You have that scar. What of it?"
[...]
He took the sketch she held and placed it on top of the others. "Let me sketch you from life."
She spread her hands apart. "Here I am, alive before your eyes."
"Alive, yes." He gazed at her. "Let me," he said. "Let me, and I'll show you the Honora Baynard you do not know exists."




"I miss her," Gervaise informed Mallachan. The damned cat sat smug and cozy on the half of the newspaper Gervaise hadn't yet read. "Not two hours apart, and I miss her. I want to pen her a sentimental note, but that folly is doomed. Try as I might, the lady would receive a Motion to Join Parties Beneath Blankets.""The Appeal of Christmas" by Grace Burrowes
Gervaise occasionally missed a night of sleep when preparing for a major case. Fatigue had never made him daft before.
"I enjoyed that kiss." Hazel fired the admission at Gervaise like a hard-packed snowball.
"As did I." In an odd, unexpected way, Hazel's kiss, full of surprise and curiosity, had brought Gervaise joy—also a little worry.
"I also did not enjoy it."
"Inconsistency isn't like you, Hazel." Gervaise depended on her consistency, on her reliably remaining Hazel as he knew her.
"Nor is it like you, Gervaise. If you enjoyed the kiss, then why did you end it so quickly and scamper off into the storm? I must be honest, for we are friends, and I can tell you that the brevity of your kiss was not enjoyable at all. If we kiss in future, I should like more kissing and less scampering off. And I do want more of your kisses, provided you're willing to improve their duration."
Hazel marched on, right into the bookshop, while Gervaise came to a halt in the chilly air, for once at a loss for words.