Turner kept his expression appropriately grave. "I'm not sorry that she did, either, if Fiona said unkind things to you."

"I know I'm not pretty," Miranda burst out. "But it's dreadfully impolite to say so, not to mention downright mean."

Turner looked at her for a long moment, not exactly certain how to comfort the little girl. She wasn't beautiful, that was true, and if he tried to tell her that she was, she wouldn't believe him. But she wasn't ugly. She was just…rather awkward.

He was saved, however, from having to say anything by Miranda's next comment.

"It's this brown hair, I think."

He raised his brows.

"It's not at all fashionable," Miranda explained. "And neither are brown eyes. And I'm too skinny by half, and my face is too long, and I'm far too pale."

"Well, that's all true," Turner said.

Miranda turned to face him, her eyes looming large and sad in her face.

"You certainly do have brown hair and eyes. There is no use arguing that point." He tilted his head and pretended to give her a complete inspection. "You are rather thin, and your face is indeed a trifle long. And you certainly are pale."

Her lips trembled, and Turner could tease her no more. "But as it happens," he said with a smile, "I myself prefer women with brown hair and eyes."

"You don't!"

"I do. I always have. And I like them thin and pale, as well."

Miranda eyed him suspiciously. "What about long faces?"

"Well, I must admit, I never gave the matter much thought, but I certainly don't mind a long face."

"Fiona Bennet said I have big lips," she said almost defiantly.

Turner bit back a smile.

She heaved a great sigh. "I never even noticed I had big lips before."

"They're not so big."

She shot him a wary glance. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."