Henry Otis had ridden day and night to reach Lord Knosley's home. He had been told that he would be married to his daughter. How he had argued bitterly with his father, deeply upset of his father's command. He could not to be forced to marry! He had not even met Lord Knosley's daughter. Though his opinion did not matter. Count Otis insisted on it. There was no getting about his indisputable order.
He had met Lord Knosley himself many times before. The man had come to visit his father in earlier times. A widower, he was an admirable man and a dear friend of Count Otis. Though he had not a vague idea of what Miss. Knosley would be like.
Against his will, he had headed toward Knosley Hall and his future.
As his eyes fell upon Elizabeth Knosley that evening, it harkened back the over-used cliche of "Love at first sight". For she was in fact anything one could dream of and more. Prettiness was too little of a word to describe her, and she was beyond beauty. The bloom of her youth was untouched, unvarinished by the trials of the outside world. He longed to run his fingers along her skin, appearing soft and flushed like rose petals. When she layed her dark eyes upon him, framed by thick, delicate lashes, his heart was caught. As the pink of a morning's dawn colored her cheeks, he knew at the moment that he was the most fortunate man upon the planet.
He and her father exchanged words, but he could barely concentrate on the words said. Her presence in the room distracted him - he wished to speak with her, to hold that ivory hand and walk with her, and not conversate uselessly with Lord Knosley. It was as if the Goddess Aphrodite had stepped into the room and cast the spell of love over him.