Her days were filled with drives and visits with old friends and shopping for the most lovely clothing in the world and drifting from room to room in the Portman Square mansion to sit and admire Jules Fordham’s brilliance. Her evenings were a delicious whirl of parties and balls and trips to the opera and dancing round and round highly polished parquet floors in the arms of her attentive partners and accepting compliments from her friends on her handsome husband and biting back a triumphant smile at the sidelong looks of veiled jealousy she received from other women whenever she entered a room on Beau’s arm. And her nights? Ah, then there were her nights, those unbelievable hours spent locked in the arms of that same handsome, desirable, wonderful husband. What a change Beaumont Remington had wrought in her life! Looking back over her first twenty-five years, she knew that she had only been half alive until the day Beau had come crashing into her orbit. And he loved her. Above and beyond all the excitement and change and adventure he had brought to her existence, Beaumont Remington had given her the gift of his love.
