Page 41 of The Sisters of Sea View
“And your vision in that eye? Is it any better?”
“Perhaps we ought to test it. Come closer.”
She swallowed and slowly crossed the room to him. He was taller than she’d realized, and his shoulders seemed so much broader than they had when he’d been lying in bed.
He said, “Will you take off your veil?”
“I prefer to keep it on.”
“I am standing here with my face bared. Can you not do the same?”
When she did not reply, he asked gently, “Are your scars so much worse than mine?”
A moment of silence followed. Then another. With every fiber of her being screaming at her not to, she raised trembling hands and slowly lifted the veil away from her face, draping it over the back of her bonnet.
She forced herself to raise her head. Her chin felt as though it weighed several stones. She waited, stiff and barely breathing.
He looked at her, forehead to mouth, then took one step closer. She narrowly resisted the urge to step back. He took another step nearer, his gaze lingering, probing every exposed inch. Finding his intense scrutiny overwhelming, she lowered her eyes, focusing instead on the striped fabric of his banyan.
Gentle fingers lifted her chin.
She jerked back, startled by his touch. A sharp retort sprang to her tongue and died, unuttered. His eyes were blue. She had thought they were grey or perhaps a dull green. But in this light, they were distinctly blue, the outer ring darker than the rest of the iris.
She blurted, “Your eyes are blue.”
“Are they? I always thought they were a plain old grey.”
She shook her head.
He said, “And yours are brown. No, wait.” He leaned closer. “Green and ... gold?”
She ran her tongue over dry lips. “Hazel.”
Again his gaze swept over her face and rested on her mouth. She stood still, drawing shallow breaths, awaiting his verdict.
Voice low, he said, “For this, you wear a veil? How you must shudder, then, when you look at me.”
Mutely, she shook her head once more.
“You are lovely,” he said. “Quite ... lovely.”
His hand rose toward her face once more, his fingers coming close before dropping away.
She forced a weak chuckle. “Your vision must still be cloudy.”
“Actually, I still can’t see a thing from the right eye. And the left is blurry.”
“I am sorry. I know you hoped...” Suspicion filling her, she tilted her head to one side. “Wait. Did you just trick me into removing my veil?”
“Maybe. I ought to have some consolation after my disappointment.” He stepped away.
Armaan knocked a second time and stepped in, and Viola barely resisted the urge to yank down her veil.
“Excuse me, Major. I must ask. I went to exercise the horses, but Taggart stopped me. He said you wished to do so yourself?”
Viola turned to him in surprise. Armaan glanced at her, then looked again, but if he was repulsed by her mouth, it did not show in his expression.
“Surely he cannot ride?” she said.
