She wasn’t looking forward to the birthday she had coming up.
‘‘Oh, good!’’ The girl’s face lit. Violet was having second thoughts already, but she couldn’t deny that smile. Although she still wasn’t thrilled with this nursemaid arrangement, ’twould at least be something different to do. She wouldn’t just be sitting here. And Ford wouldn’t be able to totally ignore her.
She hated being the center of attention, but a
little
attention would be nice.
‘‘Come inside,’’ Jewel said, turning to head up the walk. She looped her arm through Rowan’s and leaned close. ‘‘I have an idea for a jest.’’
Violet might be half-blind, but there was nothing wrong with her ears. ‘‘I heard that,’’ she said.
Jewel started up the steps. ‘‘Heard what?’’
‘‘You’re planning a jest.’’
Opening the door, the girl batted her long black lashes. ‘‘Who, me? You must have mis-mis—’’ She paused for a breath. ‘‘Mis-un-der-stood.’’
Jewel’s tone was so innocent, Violet would have believed her had she not known her better. My, she was going to miss the sprite when she left. And she knew Rowan would, too. But Ford would probably be relieved. She imagined he thought of his niece as little more than a bother.
Until he came down the corridor and swept the girl into his arms. Then, despite his preoccupation with his laboratory, his love for his niece was obvious. There for all to see, shining in his incredible blue eyes.
‘‘Have you found our friends, after all, baby?’’
‘‘I knew they would come if I sent them a letter.’’
He kissed her on the nose. ‘‘Did you think of that yourself?’’
Jewel nodded, and Violet wondered. The girl was even more enterprising than she’d thought.
‘‘That’s my clever girl.’’ Ford hugged her tighter.
‘‘And I suppose you got Harry to deliver it?’’
‘‘He always does what I ask.’’
‘‘Doesn’t everyone?’’ With a wry grin, he turned to their guests. ‘‘Welcome,’’ he said, sounding like he meant it. ‘‘Come in, please.’’
‘‘As you wish,’’ Violet murmured. Maybe she’d been too quick to judge him. And he was even better looking than she remembered from a few days ago.
She tripped over the threshold.
And once again found herself in his arms.
She couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to set Jewel on her feet before catching her, but he’d done so quite handily. He steadied her, then grinned. ‘‘This is getting to be quite a habit.’’
‘‘I’m sorry.’’ Blast her poor vision, anyway. His hands felt warm on her shoulders, and she swayed in his grip. ‘‘I know I should be more careful.’’
‘‘Nonsense. I enjoy catching you.’’
His charming smile almost succeeded in making her believe him. But of course he didn’t enjoy catching her, or even being with her, for that matter—the fact that he’d ignored her four days running certainly proved that.
She not-so-subtly wrenched free of his hands. ‘‘Lady Jewel said you have something for me?’’
‘‘Did she?’’ He looked disappointed—like he’d wanted to tell her himself. He turned to his niece.
‘‘What did you tell her?’’
‘‘Just that you made something from rocks. And I invited them to come with us tomorrow.’’ She grabbed Rowan’s hand. ‘‘Let’s go play in the garden.’’
‘‘Wait.’’ With an outstretched arm, Violet stopped her brother’s headlong rush. She looked to Ford. ‘‘Do you think we should let them go alone?’’
Ford shrugged. ‘‘I’ll send Harry after them,’’ he said. ‘‘And if you’ll wait for me in the drawing room, I’ll bring the surprise.’’
She watched the children leave in one direction and Ford go the other. The moment they were all out of sight, a little flutter erupted in her stomach. A surprise.
When was the last time a man had given her a surprise?
Never. Unless she counted her father, and most of his surprises involved flowers.
Trying not to get her hopes up, Violet made her way through Lakefield’s now familiar corridor to the drawing room. She seated herself on the faded couch.
She crossed her ankles. She uncrossed them. For the hundredth time since she’d met Ford, she told herself not to be ridiculous.
’Twas becoming a litany.
She hadn’t long to wait before he entered, breathing heavily, as if he’d run from one end of the house to the other. Which she supposed he must have.
He wasn’t holding anything, though. Disappointment welled up inside her—which was ridiculous.
Then he drew something from his pocket—something small—and held it out, almost shyly.
‘‘I made this for you,’’ he said.
She took it from him, turning it in her hands. Hardly a thing of beauty, it was two round, clear pieces of glass surrounded by some sort of wire. A little bridge connected them, and there were metal sticks on both sides.
Puzzled, she looked up.
‘‘Spectacles,’’ he said. He slid onto the couch beside her, acting friendly, familiar. What little composure she had left completely fled.
At her lack of response, his brow furrowed. ‘‘Have you not heard of spectacles? They are sometimes called eyeglasses.’’
That jarred her out of her haze. Spectacles. Her mouth dropped open, and her breath caught in her chest. ‘‘I—of course I’ve heard of them, but . . .’’ More words wouldn’t come.
‘‘Would you like to try them on?’’
‘‘I . . . thank you,’’ she breathed.
She truly was thankful. This was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for her. But the sad truth was, she knew the spectacles were useless.
She bit her lip. ‘‘I . . . I can read just fine. I know Rowan told you I cannot see very well, but ’tis the distance that is a blur. Printed pages look clear as day.
But I sincerely appreciate—’’
‘‘No.’’ She’d expected him to look disappointed, but he was grinning instead. ‘‘These are not for reading, Violet.’’
‘‘They’re not?’’ Thrilled as she was at his unexpected thoughtfulness, her brain seemed to be muddled, not half because of his close proximity. ‘‘What are they for, then?’’
‘‘Spectacles for reading have convex lenses—they get fatter in the middle. These are concave, the opposite. The edges are thicker than the center. They will help you see in the distance.’’
As she digested what he was saying, her hands started shaking. ‘‘What is all this metal?’’
‘‘Silver. To hold the lenses on your face. For reading, when a body is still, ’tis fine to hold a lens or balance a pair on your nose. But after I made these, it occurred to me that you may want to wear them and move around. So I devised the sidepieces to rest on your ears and hold them in place.’’
He scooted even closer, so close she could smell his clean spicy scent. It made her lightheaded. Gently, he took the spectacles from her hands, narrowing his eyes as he gauged them compared to her features. ‘‘I will probably need to adjust them. You’ve a smaller face than I thought.’’
She’d never thought of herself as small—any part of her. Lily was the small one.
And she’d never, ever thought she might be able to see like a normal person. ‘‘May I try them on?’’ she asked, struggling to steady her voice.
‘‘Please do. I suspect I may have to play with the lenses as well, to give you optimal vision. The degree of concavity affects the amount of correction.’’
She hardly understood what he was talking about, but she really didn’t care. Her head was buzzing. This man had made her spectacles. He was handsome and generous and warm. He lifted her chin with a finger, and she obediently raised her face, holding her breath while he fit the contraption in place.
It felt strange there, precariously perched. She closed her eyes against the sensation, then opened them. Ford rose and stepped back—and he was still in focus.
‘‘Oh, my,’’ she breathed, unable to tear her gaze from his face. He stepped yet farther away . . . and she could still see him. He smiled that devilish smile of his, and she could see it all the way from where she sat.
‘‘Oh, my.’’ Suddenly she was looking everywhere.
‘‘I can see the bellpull,’’ she exclaimed, ‘‘and the clock across the room!’’ He had clocks all over his house, and this chamber was no exception. ‘‘I can read the time! On that clock, and that one, too!’’
It seemed a miracle. She stood, walking on shaky legs to the window. With the spectacles on, she felt taller than before and almost tripped.
Nothing had changed there, but it only made her laugh.
‘‘Look.’’ She leaned her palms on the windowsill, aghast at the beauty of the world. ‘‘I can see it—I can see everything! The clouds and the flowers and the leaves on the trees. Each individual leaf.’’
‘‘They’re working for you, then,’’ his voice came from behind her. ‘‘But odds are I can make them even better. We’ll have to figure out whether more or less concavity will be optimal, then with a day or two to remake them, I can—’’
‘‘No.’’ She whirled to face him. ‘‘You’re not taking these away from me.’’ She put her hands to the frames, tilting them crazily.
He laughed, a deep sound of pleasure. ‘‘Let me at least make them fit.’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘A minute, that’s all it will take.’’ His lips curved with amusement. ‘‘I left the sidepieces straight, you see? If I bend them around your ears, they’ll stay in place better.’’
‘‘A minute?’’
His eyes met hers, that deep, compelling blue.
Something flip-flopped in her stomach. ‘‘One minute,’’
he promised.
Reluctantly she released the spectacles, and he slid them off her face. The world immediately blurred.
She hugged herself, a little thrill running through her as she watched him manipulate the metal. ‘‘Faith, what a difference they make. Jewel said something about you needing to find rocks. Perfect rocks. What did she mean by that?’’
‘‘I took her up into the hills, hunting for quartz for the lenses. Rock crystal.’’ He glanced up briefly, and she wished she could see his eyes better, see the heart-stopping glint she suspected was there. He refocused on his task. ‘‘Perfectly clear quartz is difficult, but not impossible, to find.’’
‘‘They’re not glass? They’re called eyeglasses.’’
‘‘True.’’ He smiled as he worked. ‘‘But plain glass does not have the properties needed for optical lenses.’’
‘‘How did you know that?’’
Making a final adjustment, he shrugged, an almost elegant tilt of his shoulders. ‘‘My brothers would tell you I’ve wasted countless hours filling my brain with useless facts, when I could have been doing something productive.’’
Her heart lurched at that thought. ‘‘Oh, but ’twas not useless at all. Look what you’ve done with that knowledge!’’
‘‘My family wouldn’t agree with you.’’ Finished, he moved close to put the spectacles back on her face.
‘‘They would much rather see me improve this estate, instead of sinking all my income into research and experiments.’’
‘‘They just don’t understand you, then.’’ She could relate to that, Violet thought, since her family rarely understood her.
‘‘You’re generous to say so. Especially since I’m beginning to see they’re right. I should have renovated Lakefield a decade ago. I’ve been living with my brother entirely too long.’’ He ran his fingers around her ears, making sure the sidepieces curved to fit. A little thrill rippled through her at the contact. ‘‘Comfortable?’’ he asked, capturing her gaze with his.
The way he looked at her made her breath catch.
She swallowed hard and nodded.
His hands still rested on her face, and warm fingertips danced beneath her jaw. ‘‘Can you see well now?’’
She nodded again, staring into his eyes, his beautiful eyes, realizing she was close enough to see them even without the lenses. So close she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. ‘‘Thank you,’’ she whispered.
‘‘You’ve changed my life.’’
With all her heart, she meant it. This incredible man had given her the most amazing gift. And now he was looking at her, really looking at her.
She was the center of his attention.
Blinking at that thought, she dropped her gaze to his mouth.
A beautiful mouth, too. Suddenly, inexplicably, she wanted it on hers.
And suddenly it was.
His lips were warm and soft, much softer than she’d imagined a man’s lips to be. They brushed hers once, twice, then settled more firmly, caressing her mouth with a skill that sent a shiver of delight coursing through her. His hands were still cupping her face, and they threaded into her hair.
She knew not what madness had possessed him to kiss her, but she didn’t want him to stop. Instinctively, her arms came up to loop around his neck. He felt hard and strong against her, her body on fire wherever they touched.
Faith, she wanted to melt right into him.
The pleasure was so unexpected, a mind-numbing, delicious sensation. A little whimper escaped her throat, and suddenly, thrillingly, his mouth slanted more hungrily over hers. His fingers tightened in her hair, and her pulse raced in response.
Then he pulled away, a dazed half-smile curving his lips—an expression that looked as stunned as she felt.
She shook herself, an ineffective attempt to clear her head. Of course he was stunned. A man would have to be daft to kiss a woman like her. Especially when she was wearing spectacles.
But that didn’t stop her from wishing he’d do it again.
‘‘That was . . . amazing,’’ he murmured.
‘‘Yes. Well.’’ She looked down at the unvarnished floorboards.
Amazing.
What had he meant by that?
Her hands went to the sides of her face, feeling the metal that hugged her ears. ‘‘I must look a fright,’’
she said.
‘‘No, Violet.’’ His voice was a husky rasp. ‘‘You look lovely.’’ When she glanced back up, he appeared as surprised to have said the words as she was to hear them. ‘‘Your eyes shine like bronze beneath the lenses.’’
She was still feeling dizzy, still wishing she could lean against him and feel his mouth on hers again . . . but she knew it wouldn’t happen. Whatever had possessed him to do such a ludicrous thing—such a
ridiculous
thing—was unlikely to recur.
‘‘My eyes are brown,’’ she said bluntly. She wasn’t lovely, and she didn’t like being lied to. If she’d been average-looking before, now, with the spectacles, she was sure she looked hideous.