Rowan walked away from the crowd and stood exactly at the very foot of the grand staircase.
He stood tall, his broad shoulders completely straight in his dark evening coat. He looked up.
Delaney was walking down the carpeted steps in her shimmering silver silk dress. She moved with perfect grace.
Rowan took a deep, steadying breath. His heart was beating a very fast rhythm against his ribs. He stretched his hand out toward her, opening his large palms in a gesture of complete, absolute welcome.
Delaney took the final step down. She stood on the polished marble floor of the ballroom, just inches away from him.
Rowan looked deeply into her bright hazel eyes. He offered a very small, perfectly polite bow of his head.
"Lady Kingsley," Rowan said softly. His deep voice carried clearly in the quiet space between them.
Delaney looked at him, her heart completely full of love. "Your Grace."
