Blue. Her eyes were blue.
Chapter
Three
“Euphemia! Why isn’t she waking up, James? She looks very bad, indeed!”
It was Lady Fosberry’s voice, but the face that swam into focus as Phee’s vision began to cleardidn’tbelong to her ladyship. It was a familiar face, with noble cheekbones, and a strong, angular jaw. She’d seen it before, but she couldn’t quite remember?—
“Phee! Are you alright? What a dreadful tumble!”
That was certainly Harriett speaking, but her voice was higher than usual— rather a squeak, really —as if she were distressed about something.
But what? What had happened?
Wasshe alright? She hadn’t the faintest idea, but one thing was certain.
She wasn’t as she should be.
Her lungs were moving in great, heaving pants, but for all her gasping, her breath was trapped deep inside her chest, under her breastbone, and she was lying atop something hard and… gritty?
Then there was the matter of the face above hers.
It was a gentleman’s face, with a forbidding, grim line of a mouth.
That mouth… she’d seen it before. Studied it, even, and wondered about how his lips might look if he ever smiled, but she’d never seen such a thing as a smile there. No, neither quirk nor curve had ever graced those handsome lips.
It was a pity. He had such a pleasing mouth. A smile would do wonders for his?—
“For pity’s sake, James, do get up! The poor child can’t breathe with you crushing her!”
James? Who was…
Oh. Oh,no. It couldn’t behim, could it?
Except his face was coming into sharper focus now, the blur resolving itself into features that were a masculine version of Harriet’s. He had the same fine, classical nose, the same thickly-lashed blue eyes, and the same silky dark hair that had made his sister such a favorite with the gentlemen last season.
It was Lord Fairmont, and he was… dear God, he was lying on top of her!
“Lord Fairmont?”
“Yes?”
“Would you be so good as to get off of me?”
He blinked down at her. “I… yes. Yes, of course! I beg your pardon.”
The weight atop her vanished, and she sucked in a quick, deep breath. Ah, yes, that was much better, except he’d had the gall to take his body heat with him. It was a great deal colder without him plastered against her, with the chill of the ground beneath her seeping into her back, and the brisk wind whipping goosebumps to the surface of her skin.
One might say what one liked about Lord Fairmont— he was arrogant, presumptuous, and far too enamored of his ownopinions —but there was no denying he was exceptionallywarm.
How did he contrive to be so warm? Was it because he was so tall? No, that didn’t make sense. Perhaps it was that he was a well-built, muscular sort of man. Yes, that seemed likely. Harriett had mentioned once that he rode a great deal. Perhaps that was how he’d become so muscular, and…
Oh, dear. Her mind seemed to be wandering a bit.
“Can you sit up, Euphemia? Help her, James.”
A warm, strong hand slid under her back, and the next she knew she was sitting upright. Her head felt far heavier than it should, and the world was tilting, but Lady Fosberry was there, and Harriett, and… yes, it was Lord Fairmont, just as she’d thought, although why he’d been on top of her remained a mystery.
