An evening party... Samuel groaned, his already depressed spirits sinking even lower as he descended the stairs of his grandparents’ house on the Circus. It wasn’t that he was inherently misanthropic, he reminded himself, just that he was altogether too aware of the whispers and curious glances that followed him whenever he appeared in public. As his grandmother had predicted, a number of ambitious parents had recently experienced an impulse to visit Bath before the start of the London Season, making a point of introducing him to their young and unattached daughters, all of whom expressed a profound admiration for the navy while being unable to name a single ship.
His mood that day hadn’t been helped by the receipt of two letters, one from his lawyer advising him, yet again, to visit Staunton, the other from his friend Harry Cartwright telling him, somewhat apologetically, that he’d just been awarded a new command and was preparing to sail from Plymouth. As happy as he’d been for his old comrade, to whom he’d immediately sent a letter of congratulation, Samuel still couldn’t help but feel jealous. If it hadn’t been for the whole damnable situation over his possible inheritance, then he might have been in a similar position, about to leave England on his own command, but the chances of that ever happening were receding more each day.
He’d spent most of the afternoon riding over the Downs, trying to ease the feeling of restlessness that had seemed to grow stronger over the past couple of weeks. The purposeless hours were becoming harder and harder to bear, especially when his thoughts drifted so often towards a pair of brown eyes that both entranced and infuriated him in equal measure. Since he didn’t want to waste his days with idle pursuits and there was only so much reading a man could take, he’d started trying to fill them with exercise instead, though unfortunately, today’s ride had done nothing to soothe his spirits or distract his thoughts. He couldn’t even call himself tired. He felt trapped between two lives, two paths and purposes, and there was nothing at all he could do about any of it for another month and a half but wait.
He crossed the hall with the enthusiasm of a man about to run the gauntlet. By the sound of it, most of the guests had already arrived, a hundred of them at least, all apparently talking at once. When his grandmother decided to do something, she did it properly and she was relaunching the Fortinis back into society with a vengeance. Mrs Fortini, whom he liked and admired, and Miss Fortini, whom he did not.
Strictly speaking, of course, that wasn’t true. He did like her, only her prejudiced, prickly behaviour made it impossible to enjoy her company for long. As for admiring, well, obviously it was different from the way he admired her mother. Very different, in fact, and with a very different effect. The last time he’d seen her, he’d admired her legs and that brief glimpse of thigh so much that he’d found them impossible to forget. Typical that the one woman he was interested in was also the one most likely to spurn him!
He took a deep, fortifying breath outside the drawing room and then stopped abruptly, struck by the sight of the very legs in question. They were covered up, of course, but the light from the vast candelabrum behind her outlined the contours of what he now realised was a quite spectacular body. The gown she was wearing made a striking contrast to her practical shop clothes, in periwinkle-blue and with a fashionably high waist, a low scooped neckline, short puffed sleeves and wisps of delicate lace around the hem. Her arms, meanwhile, were encased in white, tight-fitting gloves and a pair of turquoise earrings hung suspended from her ears. With her dark hair fastened into a low knot at the back of her neck, though still with corkscrew ringlets framing the sides of her face, she somehow managed to look understated, ethereal and stunningly attractive all at the same time.
What the hell had he been thinking, avoiding her company for three whole weeks?
He cleared his throat, willing himself to look away, but his eyes refused to so much as blink. In a room filled with dozens upon dozens of people, he seemed unable to focus on anyone but her. His heart was hammering so fast he actually felt slightly winded, panting with a sudden onslaught of desire.
Despite that, he was aware of a feeling of irritation, too. After everything she’d said about the aristocracy, she appeared to be deep in conversation with Augustus Lambert—a marquess, no less. Not only that, but she was actually looking him in the eye and smiling. As if she were enjoying his company! As if she weren’t determined to argue at every available opportunity! As if she could smile at a marquess but not at a potential earl!
Her gaze shifted towards him suddenly, as if she’d somehow sensed the words in his head, her lips forming a small O shape and her skin flushing a dusky and becoming shade of pink. Even the tops of her breasts appeared to be blushing, he noticed, not that he ought to have noticed, except that somehow he couldn’t help it. He felt as if his eyes were being dragged of their own volition down to the swell of her usually covered bosom. If he hadn’t known how he wanted to spend his free time before, he certainly did now and it involved taking her straight upstairs...
‘Samuel!’ For once he was glad of his grandmother’s booming voice, bringing him back to his senses. ‘Have your feet stopped working?’
‘Apologies, Grandmother.’ He forced himself to smile, though it was hard to know what expression to adopt when his body was strung so tight. ‘I thought you said this was a party, not a squash. No doubt the evening will be declared a great success.’
‘Harumph.’ His grandmother looked disgruntled by the compliment. Her own fashion choices were the direct opposite of understatement, a vision of copper-coloured fabric, diamond jewellery and tall peacock feathers. ‘I had no idea so much work was involved. I’ve had to clear out nearly all of my furniture, pull up the carpets and spend a small fortune on food and wine. And plants!’
‘Plants?’
‘My housekeeper informed me that plants were a must. Why, I have no idea, but as you can see, for once I capitulated. It looks like a forest in here.’
‘Yes.’ He glanced around, noticing a surprising new abundance of shrubbery. ‘It certainly looks greener than usual.’
‘It’s ridiculous. Goodness knows what I’m supposed to do with it all afterwards. I certainly shan’t be throwing another party in a hurry.’ She fixed him with a steely look. ‘I expected you here earlier.’
‘I went for a ride and stayed out longer than I intended.’
‘If that’s supposed to be an excuse, then I don’t accept it. You ought to have been here on the receiving line.’
‘My apologies. I didn’t think that you’d need me.’
‘Honestly, Samuel, you’re getting as bad as your grandfather.’ She gave him an exasperated look. ‘Fortunately, despite your absence, things have been going well. Even Miss Fortini appears to be on her best behaviour.’
‘Indeed?’
‘Yes, she’s barely rolled her eyes all evening. She’s been much admired, too, although most of the gentlemen have been more discreet about it than you, I’m pleased to say. I was afraid your gaze might burn a hole in her dress.’
‘Tactfully put, as always, Grandmother, but you’re right, I shouldn’t have stared. I was just surprised to see her.’
‘Really?’ His grandmother’s voice was blatantly sceptical. ‘Then I shall have to take care not to startle you in the future, Samuel, if that’s the effect.’
‘You stopped surprising me a good twenty years ago, Grandmother. Now if you’ll excuse me, I ought to go and apologise.’
‘Do that and fix whatever squabble you two have had while you’re there.’
He tipped his head, refusing to either acknowledge or contradict the comment, before making a beeline straight across the room.
‘Miss Fortini.’ He bowed gallantly. ‘I’ve just been admonished for staring. May I say how lovely you look this evening?’
‘Thank you, Captain.’ She bobbed a small curtsy in return, her pupils widening a fraction as their eyes met, then to his surprise extended a gloved hand. He accepted it at once and pressed his lips lightly against her fingers, better prepared this time for the surge of desire that immediately raced through his body. It was like an oncoming tide, building in strength the closer he got to her. He wanted to get closer still, to touch a lot more than her hand, too, to gather her into his arms and...
‘Lambert.’ He let her go again reluctantly, turning towards her companion with gritted teeth and a forced smile. ‘How do you do?’
‘Very well, Delaney.’ Fortunately the Marquess seemed unaware of any tension. ‘But how could I not be in such charming company?’
‘Indeed. Miss Fortini is very charming.’
‘She’s just been telling me that she’s Belle. The Belle.’
‘Just Belle.’ The lady in question looked faintly embarrassed, though her gaze never wavered from the Marquess. ‘Although I’ve always preferred the name Anna.’
‘But that’s far too plain!’ Lambert put a hand over his heart. ‘A beautiful woman should have a beautiful name and you’re quite the most exquisite diamond in the room this evening, Miss Fortini.’
‘I’d keep my voice down if I were you.’ Samuel felt a primitive urge to raise his fists. The way Lambert was looking at her was altogether too appreciative. ‘My grandmother takes offence very easily.’
‘Ah.’ The other man’s gaze flickered with alarm towards the Baroness. ‘Well, naturally I didn’t mean to offend...’
‘Your grandmother said you were out riding.’ Miss Fortini came to the Marquess’s rescue.
‘Yes, over the Downs. It was such a beautiful day, I couldn’t resist the sunshine.’ He paused, waiting for some disparaging comment about the luxury of not having to work, but she only smiled.
‘Then I’m glad you made it back in time for the party. It’s nice to see a familiar face.’
‘A friendly one, too, I hope?’ He smiled back, suppressing a look of surprise. After the way they’d parted the last time, he’d expected her to still be angry with him. Or aloof at the very least. Instead, she seemed to have sheathed all her prickles, actually looking pleased to see him, as pleased as he was to see her. He was struck with the realisation that he really had missed her. Those gorgeous brown eyes, that low voice capable of leaping into sudden animation, that rarely bestowed smile, although she seemed to have been bestowing it quite liberally this evening... He felt an unwonted pang of jealousy.
‘Of course a friendly one.’ A mischievous gleam appeared in her eyes. ‘I just thought you might have had something better to do.’
That time he had to stifle a laugh. ‘At this precise moment, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing. Perhaps you’d care to join me for a stroll about the room?’ He held an arm out, not that there was much possibility of strolling anywhere in such a crush, but he felt suddenly determined to separate her from Lambert.
‘I’d be delighted, Captain. Excuse me, my lord.’ Her black eyelashes fluttered as she dipped into another curtsy and then threaded her hand through his arm, allowing him to draw her along the side of the room.
‘You seem different, Miss Fortini.’ Samuel tilted his head towards hers as they walked, his lips grazing inadvertently against one of her curls, though he still had to raise his voice to be heard above the crowd.
‘That’s because I made up my mind to enjoy myself. According to my mother I don’t do it often enough so I’ve decided to get out of my shop and start.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. How are the riding lessons going?’
She gave him a startled look, as if she hadn’t expected him to broach the subject. ‘Your grandmother didn’t tell you?’
‘Tell me what?’
‘That I never came back after...well, the last time. Only for some reason she still insists on sending her maids to help me with the baking every morning. I’ve told them they don’t need to, but they say they daren’t not.’
‘Do you blame them?’
‘Not at all. To be honest, it’s quite pleasant. We get the work done in half the time, then we all sit around the table and eat breakfast.’
‘Then I’m pleased you’re enjoying a rest.’
‘I am and I have to admit the extra sleep has been very nice.’ Her expression turned faintly guilty. ‘The other morning I stayed in bed until seven o’clock.’
‘Well, Miss Fortini, I’m shocked...’ He smiled, although the mention of bed made his breeches feel somewhat tighter. ‘And how was the experience?’
‘Wonderful.’ Her lips widened and he felt a glow in his chest, as if her smile were actually warming his insides in several different locations now.
‘In that case, I’m glad my grandmother is so domineering. Just this once.’
‘Talking about me again?’ The Baroness swooped down on them suddenly, peacock feathers waving on top of her elaborately arranged hairstyle.
‘Only in the nicest possible terms, Grandmother.’
‘I don’t believe it.’ She dipped a feather towards his companion. ‘He’s been in a perfectly foul temper for the past three weeks. I would have sent him away from Bath if I hadn’t thought he’d take it as an opportunity to run back to sea again.’
‘Well, he’s being perfectly charming now.’ Miss Fortini smiled. To his surprise, despite the fact that she claimed to have spurned further riding lessons, there didn’t appear to be any friction between her and his grandmother.
‘Then it must be thanks to your company. I insist upon the pair of you sitting together at supper.’
‘Oh, I don’t know...’ She glanced towards him uncertainly.
‘Unless you’re promised elsewhere?’ He lifted an eyebrow, almost wishing that he’d punched Lambert when he’d had the chance.
‘No, but I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated.’
‘I’d be honoured.’
‘Good. Then it’s settled,’ the Baroness announced with an air of finality. ‘Now, where is your grandfather? If he’s hiding in his library, then we shall have words.’
Samuel watched as she sallied forth again, struck with the distinct impression that his grandmother was matchmaking. Which was a ridiculous idea given the uncertainty of his current circumstances, only on this particular occasion he didn’t seem to mind...
‘Miss Fortini.’ He took the opportunity to draw her into an alcove half-hidden behind a tall potted palm. ‘I believe that I owe you an apology for the way we parted three weeks ago.’
‘Anna,’ she corrected him. ‘You can call me Anna and I believe I owe you one, too. In fact, I owe you two. One for my behaviour that morning and one for not accepting your last apology about Henrietta. I should have forgiven you.’
The words caught him by surprise. ‘Well then, perhaps our apologies cancel each other out? And my name, incidentally, is Samuel.’
‘Samuel.’ Her eyelashes fluttered. ‘I thought about some of the things you said and I realised that you were right. I have been too prejudiced.’
‘I still shouldn’t have spoken so bluntly.’
‘Yes, you should have. I’d be a hypocrite if I objected to plain speaking just because it was about me.’
‘Are you suggesting some kind of parley, Miss Forti—Anna?’
‘No.’ She shook her head though her eyes were soft. ‘I’m suggesting a formal declaration of truce, if you’ll agree to one?’
‘Then a truce it is, but I’m still sorry.’
‘Apology accepted. And, while we’re apologising to each other, I’m sorry if you’ve had a difficult time since. It must be very hard, waiting to find out whether or not you’re going to inherit.’
‘It is. I like visiting my grandparents, but my ship is my home. I miss having a sense of purpose, too. Waiting around like this makes me feel...’
‘Adrift?’
‘Something like that.’ He made a wry face. ‘Forgive me, I don’t mean to complain, especially when my position is in many respects so enviable.’
‘But it can be hard to remember how we ought to feel.’ She put a hand on his forearm, her tone earnest. ‘I do understand what you mean. Everyone wants to have control over their own life. I have a sense of belonging and purpose. My parents actually gave me a shop and yet sometimes I feel as if I’m drifting along, too, in a current I can’t escape.’
‘How so?’ He let his gaze drift over her face. They were standing so close that if he moved his own forward just a little...
‘Sometimes I wish I could have chosen a role for myself, as you did with the navy.’
‘Indeed? What is it that you would have chosen?’
She lifted her shoulders and then dropped them again with a sigh. ‘I don’t know. I suppose I don’t let myself think about it because there’s nothing I can do to change anything. It was always just presumed that I would take over Belles, but if there was one thing I could change...’ She stopped and bit her lip.
‘Yes?’
‘Nothing. It’s not important.’
‘It is to me.’
‘Well...’ She threw a quick glance over her shoulder as if she were afraid of someone overhearing. ‘Baking! I detest it. If I could avoid it, then I’d never bake another biscuit again in my life!’
‘Baking?’ He gaped at her in astonishment for a few seconds and then burst out laughing.
‘Shh!’ She gave his sleeve an admonishing tug. ‘People will wonder what we’re talking about.’
‘But they’ll never guess. Who would guess that the famous Belle of Bath doesn’t like baking?’
‘I can’t help it. I never particularly enjoyed it, but I liked helping to run the shop with my father. Only after he died, my mother’s hands were already too stiff for baking and I felt so...trapped, somehow. I know it sounds ungrateful, but it felt like more of a burden than a gift.’
He sobered instantly. ‘Does your mother know how you feel about it?’
‘No!’ She looked shocked by the idea. ‘She already worries about me. I’ve never told anyone else, not even Sebastian.’
‘Then I’m honoured that you chose to tell me.’ He pressed a hand over the one resting on his arm. ‘Your secret is safe, I promise.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Anna...’ He seemed to enjoy saying her name now, especially when he was staring deep into her eyes. They looked very big all of a sudden, even darker and more enticing than usual. So enticing that he felt as though he were being drawn towards them. Towards those full rosebud lips, too, the same shade of pink as her cheeks...
‘Time for some music!’ His grandmother’s voice broke the spell, reverberating around the room with the force of a small cannon.
‘Do you play the pianoforte?’ He jerked upright again, surprised to find how close his head had just come to hers.
‘I’m afraid not.’ If he wasn’t mistaken, she pulled away at the same moment. ‘Or sing either, although my mother has a beautiful voice.’
‘Is that true, Mrs Fortini?’ Samuel led Anna out of the alcove, calling across the room to where her mother was standing in a crowd of what appeared to be gentlemen admirers. ‘Do you sing? Shall we perform a duet?’
‘It’s been a while since I performed for anyone.’ Mrs Fortini looked more than a little daunted by the idea.
‘For me, too, but perhaps we can muddle through together? If you’ll permit me to accompany you, that is?’
‘Oh...’ The look of determination that crossed Elizabeth Fortini’s face at that moment was identical to that of her daughter. ‘I’d be delighted, Captain Delaney.’