‘Are you honestly telling me that you feel better?’
Samuel winced as his grandmother’s contralto tones boomed out across the Abbey courtyard. At least twenty heads turned in their direction as they emerged from the Pump Rooms and made their way towards Bath Street.
‘Yes, actually.’ After five decades of practice, his grandfather was unruffled by either his wife’s deafening volume or her cynical pronouncements.
‘I don’t know how you can bear to drink something that smells so revolting.’
‘It’s a natural spring, my dear. That’s how it smells when it comes out of the ground.’
‘Well, they might try to mask the odour somehow.’ The Baroness took Samuel’s arm and gave him a nudge in the ribs. ‘I’ve heard that sailors always carry a flask of rum wherever they go. I’d far rather drink some of that.’
‘I’m afraid I must have forgotten mine today, Grandmother, although I do know a rather good hostelry close by. I’m sure you’d fit right in.’
‘Your grandmother doesn’t fit into places, my boy, you know that. She simply takes over wherever she goes. If she’d been born a man, she would have been a general the day after she joined the army.’
‘Or, better still, an admiral in the navy,’ Samuel pointed out. ‘We could have won Trafalgar in half the time.’
‘You both know very well that I would have led a cavalry regiment.’ The Baroness looked down her nose at them reprovingly. ‘And made a damn fine job of it, too.’
‘Naturally.’ Samuel started to laugh and then stopped, his attention drawn by the sight of a woman’s head peering out from behind one of the pillars of the colonnade up ahead. She seemed to be hiding in the shadows, or trying to anyway, but there was something familiar about her profile and that mass of wild curls... Miss Fortini? He came to an abrupt halt, bringing his grandmother up short.
‘Samuel?’ The Baroness looked at him as if he were a disobedient horse. If she’d been wearing spurs, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find himself prodded. ‘What on earth’s the matter?’
‘Forgive me, Grandmother, but I’ve just seen an acquaintance I need to speak to. You both continue without me.’
‘Will be you back at the house for luncheon?’
‘I think so.’
‘You think so?’ This time she looked as if she were considering a swift kick to his flanks. ‘Well, don’t expect us to wait if you’re late.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it. Unless you’d care to take pity on me, of course.’
He grinned as she gave a contemptuous snort, waiting until she and his grandfather were a few feet away before weaving his way through the other pedestrians, heading for the covered walkway at the side of the street and then curving around so that he approached the pillar from behind. Miss Fortini was still there, still peering out from the shadows, her hands clutching hold of the stone pillar as if she were poised and ready to dart behind it. She wasn’t wearing any gloves, he noticed, or even a bonnet, just a shawl thrown haphazardly over her shoulders as if she’d come out in a rush. She was also clearly unaware of his presence, allowing him a moment to study the nape of her neck and the escaped dark ringlets framing each side of her head. They looked so soft and springy that he was tempted to curl his fingers around them.
‘Miss Fortini?’
He said her name gently, though she still performed a mini-pirouette, bumping the back of her head against the pillar as she let out a startled, albeit quickly muffled shriek.
‘Captain Delaney?’ She put a hand over her chest, her bosom rising and falling erratically as her expression turned from surprise to relief to embarrassment in the space of a few short seconds. ‘Good day.’
‘Are you all right?’ He started to reach for her head and then stopped himself. ‘That was quite a bump. I didn’t mean to startle you.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing.’ She waved her other hand dismissively. ‘I’m sure it looked worse than it felt.’
‘Ah...good.’ He studied her for a few moments in silence, struggling to make sense of her now guilty expression, before gesturing out at the busy street. ‘It’s a pleasant morning for a stroll.’ He tried to sound as if there were nothing unusual about her behaviour. ‘Is your shop closed today?’
‘No... I mean, yes. That is, just for a few minutes. I had something important to attend to.’ She lifted her chin, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in a way that made her mouth look redder and distinctly plumper all of a sudden. Positively juicy, in fact.
‘Ah.’ He glanced enquiringly at the pillar and then back again. ‘Anything I might assist you with?’
‘Assist me?’ She blinked, her dark gaze moving over his uniform as if she were just noticing it for the first time.
‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘You know, you remind me of my first Captain, Miss Fortini. He was a tyrant for inspections. Do I pass muster?’
‘Oh.’ Her eyes shot back to his, her cheeks reddening to match her swollen mouth. ‘I’m sorry, I was just thinking.’
‘About my offer of help? It was quite genuine, I assure you.’
‘Thank you. And thank you for what you did the other night. Henrietta told me that you took Mr Hoxley away like you promised.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘Only... I’m afraid the situation involves her again.’ She seemed to come to a decision, beckoning for him to come closer before pointing around the edge of the pillar. He looked dutifully. Her apprentice was standing next to a market stall at the far end of the street.
‘She told me she was unwell. A headache.’
‘And you didn’t believe her?’ Samuel pulled back, feeling vaguely ridiculous to be peeking out from behind a pillar in broad daylight.
‘No. She’s been acting strangely for days and she’s a terrible liar. I could tell that she felt bad about deceiving me, too, so I knew something was going on.’
‘So you closed up your shop and followed her? That doesn’t sound very good for business.’
‘Some things are more important.’ She gave him a narrow-eyed glance. ‘I expect you think that it’s nothing to do with me.’
‘I wouldn’t say that exactly...’
He made a face. In his personal opinion, what her employee did in her own free time was nothing to do with her, let alone him, but if the girl was supposed to be working, then it wasn’t strictly speaking her free time...and it was Miss Fortini’s business that she’d been lied to. Frankly, he was starting to think that her assistant was more trouble than she was worth, but Miss Fortini obviously cared about her. Most employers would have dismissed her on the spot for lying.
‘What is it that you suspect her of?’
‘I think that she’s come to meet someone.’
‘Someone being Mr Hoxley?’ He frowned, already anticipating the answer.
‘Yes. He’s been in the shop every day this week. I know he’s your friend, but...’
She let the words trail away, although Samuel didn’t finish them. Instead, he took a farther step back into the shadows, thinking. He hadn’t seen Ralph since the evening he’d practically manhandled him out of Sydney Gardens, delivering a stern lecture about his behaviour on the way. He’d warned him off visiting the shop on Swainswick Crescent again, too, although he’d stopped short of actually threatening him. They’d been close companions once and he hadn’t wanted to ruin the memory of their friendship entirely. Unfortunately, it seemed that he’d been too easy on him.
‘I’m sure it’s all perfectly innocent in Henrietta’s mind,’ Miss Fortini went on, ‘only she has romantic ideas.’
‘Is that so terrible? Surely a few romantic ideas are a good thing?’
She gave him a look that implied she’d expected better. ‘I live in the real world, Captain, as I’m sure so do you. Gentlemen like Mr Hoxley don’t marry girls like Henrietta. He might offer to set her up as his mistress, but that’s all.’
Samuel arched an eyebrow, thinking it was a good thing he’d grown up with his grandmother or he might have been shocked to hear a woman speak about mistresses quite so openly. Not one of the well-bred young ladies he’d met in the Pump Rooms that morning would have ever contemplated using the word. Quite a few had probably never even heard of it.
Miss Fortini, on the other hand, stated it as a matter of fact, which, he had to concede, it probably was. Ralph’s position as the third son of a minor baronet meant that he needed a rich wife and, unfortunately for his nymph, a shop assistant was never going to be that.
‘There!’ Miss Fortini uttered a sudden cry of dismay, pointing down the street to where the man in question was just now swaggering around the corner. Samuel leaned forward again, half appalled, half intrigued by the scene. Surely even Ralph wouldn’t conduct a liaison in one of Bath’s most famous streets? His reputation was disreputable enough, but this was outrageous even for him.
‘He’s walking right past her!’ Miss Fortini whispered indignantly, seemingly afraid of being overheard despite there being at least ten feet and a dozen people between them and Ralph. ‘Oh! He’s looking this way!’
She shifted backwards, the rounded curve of her bottom bumping forcefully against Samuel’s groin before she spun around and flattened herself against the pillar, her eyes wide with a look of alarm. ‘Do you think he saw me?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Although he’d certainly see him, Samuel thought, if he didn’t move completely into the shadows, too. He could hardly have made himself look any more conspicuous in his naval uniform. There was nothing he could do but take a step closer towards Miss Fortini, bracing his hands on the pillar on either side of her waist.
It was a slender waist, he observed, though not so slender that he was afraid she might snap in a strong wind, flaring out into perfectly proportioned hips. She was reasonably tall for a woman, too, with legs long enough that when she’d stepped back against him he’d found it momentarily hard to think straight, a flood of heat rushing straight to the lower part of his body. He was still feeling somewhat befuddled now since the front of his trousers was only a few inches away from the legs and hips in question and their close proximity was doing nothing to diminish the effect.
Fortunately, Miss Fortini appeared blissfully unaware of his body’s reaction. Unaware of him altogether, in fact, so taken up with the idea of saving her friend that she seemed oblivious to the impropriety of their position. He had her pinned up against a pillar in broad daylight, for pity’s sake! A swift glance over his shoulder showed there was no one else under the covered part of the colonnade, but anyone who cared to look deeper into the shadows would take him for the rake, not Ralph. And how he was supposed to care about that when her breasts were heaving so tantalisingly close to his chest he had no idea!
‘What’s happening?’ she whispered, her large brown eyes darting from side to side as if she could somehow see behind her. ‘Is he going back to meet her?’
‘Mmm?’ For a moment, Samuel had no idea what she was talking about, his gaze transfixed by the flawless bow shape of her mouth. He hadn’t paid her lips enough attention before, he chided himself, distracted by her many other attractive qualities, but now he found himself wanting to explore them in slow and intimate detail.
‘Is he going back to Henrietta?’
‘Oh...wait a moment.’ Samuel gathered his scattered thoughts with an effort, sucking in a deep breath before stealing a look around the edge of the pillar. ‘No.’ He frowned. ‘He’s walking this way and she’s following him. They must have arranged to meet like this.’ His frown deepened with every word. It was typical of Ralph to flaunt his position so blatantly in front of the girl. He seemed to be stopping every few seconds to speak to some acquaintance or another, making her wait each time. It was just the kind of egotistical, self-aggrandising joke that he would enjoy.
‘I need to do something!’ Miss Fortini started forward, but Samuel kept his arms in place, restraining her against the pillar.
‘Do what exactly?’
‘Talk some sense into her!’
‘Something tells me that you’ve already covered the subject quite thoroughly.’
The way her eyelashes fluttered confirmed it. ‘Then what do you suggest I do? I can’t just let her go with him!’
‘No, but if you interfere now then they’ll only arrange something else. You’ll only delay the inevitable.’
‘Then what can I do?’
He held on to her gaze, his whole body pulsing with an awareness of hers. Every one of his nerve endings seemed to be tingling and straining towards her. She looked so fierce and determined that he was seized with the same near-overwhelming urge to kiss her that he’d felt in the park. Which was quite possibly the stupidest idea imaginable under the circumstances. It certainly wasn’t a solution to their current problem. He had no idea what to do about that... And then he did, the answer coming to him in a blinding flash as he glanced along the street and saw that Ralph wasn’t the only person who’d stopped to talk. His grandmother was holding court amid a gathering of acquaintances.
He pulled one hand away from the pillar to rub across his chin, considering. It wouldn’t be the most honourable course of action, but it might be the most effective. Non-violent, too, which would save him from having to pummel some decency into his former friend.
‘Stay here and don’t let your assistant see you.’ He took a step away from her. ‘I know someone who can help us.’
‘Wait!’ Miss Fortini lifted a hand so quickly that it collided with his chest, her palm pressing flat over his heart. He stopped at once, feeling as if every muscle in his body had suddenly gone into spasm.
She must have felt something similar because her eyes widened and then dipped abruptly, a small gasp escaping her throat as she jerked her hand away again. ‘Forgive me, it was nothing.’
Nothing. He swallowed thickly. Whatever else it was, it was definitely not nothing. His heart was thumping a painfully rapid tattoo against the walls of his ribcage and his lungs seemed incapable of dragging in enough air. The pillar, the street, the crowd of people standing just a few feet away...all of them seemed to disappear and there was only her and him and a gathering heat that seemed to sear the very air between them... His gaze focused on the delicate flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat and, without thinking, he lifted a finger to touch it, rubbing his hand gently across the silky soft skin of her neck before sliding it around the back of her head and into the dark mass of her hair. He wanted to see her curls loose, he thought, swallowing again at the feeling of luxurious spirals against his fingertips. He wanted to see them wild and free, tumbling over her naked shoulders and breasts...
He cleared his throat, surprised by the vividness of the image in his mind’s eye. ‘There’s nothing to forgive, Miss Fortini. Leave this to me.’
Anna sagged back against the pillar, willing her breathing to return to normal and for the cold stone to have a cooling effect on her body. What had she been thinking, reaching out to Captain Delaney in such an intimate way? In that moment she hadn’t even cared that he was a gentleman! She’d simply acted by instinct, not wanting him to leave despite his offer of help, pressing her fingers against the solid wall of his chest as if she were the one there for a private assignation!
Not that he seemed to have minded. On the contrary, he’d touched her back, the gentle caress of his fingertips against her bare skin setting off a series of small fireworks inside her body. The expression on his face hadn’t been one of disapproval or disgust, either. It had been surprised, arrested...hungry?
Hungry for what?
Whatever it was, she’d wanted it, too. She still did, though the empty, tugging, tremulous sensation in her stomach felt more like an ache than hunger. On the other hand, maybe she was just confused. She certainly felt confused. Her skin was covered in goose pimples though she was red-hot all over and her mind was spinning so fast she felt giddy.
With a gargantuan effort she forced her mind back to the situation with Henrietta, peering out from behind the pillar again. What was Captain Delaney doing? He wasn’t heading towards his friend. Instead, he was striding purposefully towards an elderly-looking couple standing arm in arm at the end of the street. The woman in particular was striking, swathed from head to toe in dark purple with white hair, an upright, confident bearing and a long aquiline nose that tilted upwards as he approached.
She threw a swift glance towards Henrietta, wondering if she’d noticed him pass by, but it seemed not. Her friend was standing a few paces behind Mr Hoxley, apparently searching in her reticule for something, though in reality waiting for him. Anna felt her cheeks burn with indignation. How dared he! Not just try to seduce her friend, but to demean her like this? Forcing her to wait in the street as if she were his servant or some other female paid to do his bidding. It was just the kind of arrogant, entitled, aristocratic gesture that made her blood boil!
She curled her hands into fists, tempted to march out into the street and tell him exactly what she thought of him and his whole domineering class, but Captain Delaney had told her to wait and after asking for his help she ought to at least see what he planned. Of course he was a member of the same upper class as his friend, but there were exceptions to every rule. He was a rarity, a pearl among swine, almost too good to be true and even more strikingly handsome in his uniform than he was in his everyday attire. When she’d first noticed what he was wearing she’d felt an obscure urge to salute. His white trousers were practically moulded to his legs and his dark blue tailcoat, complete with epaulets and gold embroidery around the collar, encased his broad shoulders like a second skin. It was strange that Sebastian’s lieutenant’s uniform had never made her feel quite so tremulous inside, but then Sebastian was her brother and Captain Delaney was... Well, there was nothing remotely brotherly about the way she’d just reacted to him.
The older woman, however, must have been some kind of relation because he stepped right up to her without preamble, speaking into her ear as if he were sharing some kind of confidence. As Anna watched, the woman stiffened, but he laid a hand on her arm, saying a few more words before removing it again. Whatever it was obviously did the trick. Anna had the distinct and faintly startling impression of a powerful energy being suddenly unleashed, like a lightning bolt striking down from a cloud. The moment his hand fell away the woman launched forward, waving her walking stick out in front of her like a weapon, though the martial gleam in her eye was enough to make most bystanders dart out of the way.
The only person who appeared oblivious to her wrathful approach was Mr Hoxley himself. He had his back turned towards her, laughing with a group of fashionable-looking young dandies. It was only at the last moment that he appeared to sense his impending doom and turned to find himself nose to nose with what Anna could only describe as a force of nature.
‘Lady Jarrow.’ Mr Hoxley attempted to make a bow, though the endeavour was thwarted by the fact that her face was so close and he could hardly do so without butting her in the head.
‘Hoxley.’ The woman looked him up and down in a manner that suggested he was little more than a worm beneath her feet. ‘I am appalled!’
Anna caught her breath and then clapped a hand over her mouth, repressing a strong urge to giggle. Lady Jarrow, as he’d just called her, wasn’t making the slightest attempt to be discreet, every word she uttered clearly audible to their now captivated audience. A trumpet, an entire marching band even, would have made less of an impact.
‘Madam.’ Mr Hoxley looked as if he’d just developed some kind of fever, his cheeks flushing a vivid shade of crimson. ‘I can’t imagine what I’ve done to offend you.’
‘Can’t you? Because I’ve been hearing rumours about you. Disturbing rumours. Lechery! Wantonness! Debauchery! You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’
‘I can assure you...’
‘And with your mother’s own lady’s maid! Never mind how hard it is to find decent maids these days, but I hear the poor woman was dismissed after her indiscretion with you. Have you no shame?’ She lifted her stick and prodded one end into his chest. ‘Well? Defend yourself if you can!’
For an infinitesimal moment, Anna felt sorry for the victim of the harangue. He was producing a series of strangled-sounding gurgles, though he appeared to have nothing coherent to say for himself.
‘If I were you, Hoxley...’ Lady Jarrow took another step closer, seeming to grow in height while further diminishing his, forcing him to stagger backwards ‘...I would go home to the country and take some time to reflect on the virtues of a quiet life. You have a reasonable head upon your shoulders, boy. You ought to try using it once in a while instead of distressing your poor mother and father and before you get some other poor girl into trouble.’
As she uttered the last words her gaze flickered past Hoxley towards Henrietta, whose face was even redder and more stricken than his. Anna tightened her grip on the pillar, resisting the urge to rush out and comfort her, though she could see that the woman’s words were having the desired effect. Henrietta was already backing away, fleeing the scene before Hoxley could say or do anything to stop her.
‘Well, now.’ Lady Jarrow’s lips curved into a satisfied-looking smile. ‘I believe that my work here is done.’
‘My lady...’
Hoxley continued to splutter ineffectually as she turned her back on him, marching away as briskly as she’d come. Anna’s gaze travelled with her, past the now busily gossiping audience to where Captain Delaney stood with his shoulders rigid and arms folded in front of him. He looked... What did he look? Angry, regretful, sombre? Somehow his expression suggested all three at once. Judging by the furious look that Hoxley was shooting in his direction, their friendship was well and truly over. And it was her doing. She’d asked Captain Delaney to side with her over his friend and he had. He’d saved Henrietta for her and she had no idea why.
She was still wondering when he unfolded his arms and looked straight at her, tipping his hat in a gesture of farewell before taking the older woman’s arm and walking away.