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It’s not like I’d never seen a beautiful woman before. He thought reproachfully, although truth be told, the alarm bells started going off in his head the moment he’d made eye contact with Lynch’s niece. He remembered ignoring his own wisdom, the way young men do when confronted with bewitching eyes and masses of curls. Forcing himself to believe he could work with her without becoming smitten.
Fiona’s red curls were a gleaming, fiery mass as she leaned toward the nearest lantern, tilting the ewer forward.
I mean, Fiona opened the door, and here was this beautiful, fancy-talking Lady in this fine, fancy house. Almost thought I was in the wrong place....
She looked up at Lily, her green eyes twinkling with merriment .
Fiona held up a hand. "No. I'm alright." She bent over her task, her long, red curls hiding her face.
Fiona Lewis-Smythe is a girl of Autumn complexion and uncommon loveliness. She is graceful and willowy, appearing far too sylphlike and fragile to live out in some mail station on the edge of civilization. The thing you notice first about Fiona is her long cascade of fiery curls, which frame her delicate, aristocratic peaches and cream face and elfin green eyes. She is accustomed to money, and favors well-tailored, stylish clothing of high quality fabrics. She does wear work clothes when needed, but always manages to look fresh and pulled together. When working, however, her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, but it's far too curly to stay neat in that style very long, escaping in tousled, messy tendrils.