The Crichton Heir
The smile faded from his face the instant she locked eyes with him. He had only seen her without her spectacles once before, and he barely remembered, not having been the least bit curious about Maggie’s new companion.
He certainly didn't remember the large almond shaped eyes, as dark as the soil under their feet. She glared at him through thick long black lashes. He could now see why her spectacles wouldn't stay up, given her patrician nose. Her cheeks were flushed, and her full lips slightly parted. Time seemed to stop.
Josephine wasn't surprised by the reaction that Frederick had. He looked shocked, as though she were a stranger. Narrowing her eyes in anger, she took two long strides over to him, jerking the spectacles out of his hand. His arms hung limply by his side, his jaw seemed to be unhinged. Sliding the old, ill-fitting glasses back onto her face, she felt as if a wall had been thrown up between her and the world, once again.
“What? Did you expect my eyes to be crossed? Perhaps you should close your mouth, before you find it home to a swarm of midges. You could make yourself useful by helping fix the mess you and Margaret made of Irma’s garden.”
Frederick felt as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him. It took a moment to recover, but when he did, he realized that Josephine thought he'd been the one to tumble around with Margaret.