The wine had turned her cheeks a soft shade of pink. It was a warm flush that flattered her sharp cheekbones and sent a flare of color just above the rise of her breasts. She had stepped outside to catch a breath of fresh air only to have managed breaking the heel of her finely crafted shoes. Her ankle was a flash of blue stockings as she limped away with one twisted ankle. Had anyone seen her shame? She prayed not. All the same she swore beneath her breath as she peeled her shoe off with a soft, “Drat!”