A woman could be as beautiful as she felt herself to be.
No one judging her by her appearance would dream that Miss Daphne Wade had a rather salacious habit of staring at her employer’s naked chest whenever she had the chance, although most women would have agreed that Anthony Courtland, Duke of Tremore, had a chest worth looking at.
One couldn’t spend one’s entire life waiting for life to start.
Resolved untested was moot.
Fading into the wallpaper was so much safer than being noticed.