He peered down his nose at her with cold blue eyes, and at last, with the utmost condescension, he asked, “Miss Niamh O’Connor?” Clearly, he’d expected someone different. Niamh fought every instinct she had to smooth down her hair or adjust her skirts. Four days at sea, she was certain, had not been kind to her. She offered him her most winning smile. “That’s me.”
Ugh this is so fanficly bad
