‘I doubt it’s so easy, Grandmother.’ Samuel folded his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he took in the scene. ‘I came to tell you it’s time for supper, if you’ve quite finished scheming out here. What’s going on?’
‘I resent the word scheming.’ Lady Jarrow drew herself up stiffly. ‘I was just telling Miss Fortini about a letter I’ve received from the Dowager Duchess of Messingham. She’s hoping for a reconciliation.’
‘Your grandmother?’ His gaze softened to one of concern as he turned towards Anna. ‘I hope it hasn’t upset you?’
‘No-o.’ She was touched by the almost tender expression in his eyes. He looked as if he genuinely meant it. ‘If it makes my mother happy, then it makes me happy, too.’ She paused ironically. ‘I mean it this time.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘Only apparently she isn’t well enough to travel to Bath so we have to go to her.’
‘We?’ He sounded surprised. ‘Then you intend to go, too?’
‘I think it’s what my mother will want...’
‘And I insist that they need an escort.’ Lady Jarrow chimed in.
‘Naturally. I’d be happy to accompany you wherever you need to go.’
Anna winced, catching a glimpse of the Baroness’s gloating expression. ‘I wouldn’t speak too soon if I were you.’
‘Why? Where does she live? The Outer Hebrides?’
‘Close to Derbyshire.’
‘Ah.’ There was an extended moment of silence before his gaze slid slowly back to his grandmother. ‘What a coincidence.’
‘Isn’t it?’ The Baroness tossed her head imperiously. ‘In fact, the estate is only a matter of miles from Staunton, but naturally a reconciliation takes time. These things shouldn’t be rushed. Personally, I think it would be best for all concerned if Miss Fortini and her mother stayed with you at Staunton Manor for the duration of their visit. You’ll be doing a service for each other.’
‘But only if you’re willing.’ Anna threw a pointed look at the Baroness. ‘If you really object, then my mother and I can stay at an inn. We’re perfectly capable.’
‘I shan’t hear of it.’ The Baroness stiffened indignantly. ‘Not when...’
‘Stay with me at Staunton Manor?’ Samuel’s voice was like granite. ‘After I’ve told you, repeatedly, that I have no intention of visiting.’
‘And I’ve told you not to be so foolish. Honestly, anyone would think that I meddled for fun and not for your own good. Now, I ought to return to my guests. In the meantime, I’ll leave Miss Fortini to talk some sense into you.’
Anna clenched her jaw, waiting until the older woman had gone back inside before slowing sighing out a breath. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not sure what just happened.’
‘My grandmother just happened. It’s not your fault.’ Samuel twisted his head to one side as if he were trying to ease a crick in his neck. ‘Are you really sure you want to go and visit yours? I’m starting to think they’re overrated as a relation.’
She gave a soft laugh. ‘I don’t want to, no, but my mother will and I need to go with her.’ She paused. ‘Only I get the strange feeling that your grandmother’s been planning all this from the start.’
‘I wouldn’t put it past her.’
‘Although she might be right about your visiting Staunton.’
‘You’re agreeing with her?’ His eyes glinted dangerously.
‘Not necessarily, but I think she has a point about your learning about the estate beforehand, just in case.’
‘While my cousin’s widow is still in residence? You don’t think that would be monstrously tactless?’
‘It’s...unfortunate, but it’s not as if you’d be asking to see the accounts. You’re just going to see the place so it won’t be such a shock if you do inherit. I understand your reservations, but perhaps it’s a necessary evil.’
He held on to her gaze for several long seconds before rubbing a hand over his face. ‘Maybe it is, but if I had my way, I’d never set eyes on the place at all.’
‘Why?’ She took a step towards him. ‘Why are you so against the idea?’
‘I told you, that side of the family never wanted me. The idea of me being the one to inherit their name and estates was their worst nightmare. And maybe they were right to fear it. Maybe you were right, too, not about the aristocracy in general, but about some of us.’ He frowned. ‘My father was the worst kind of aristocrat. What were the words you used? Indolent and debauched. Well, that was him. He gambled and drank away every shilling he ever had and I have his blood. What if I turn out to be just as dissolute? What if I can’t be trusted to inherit?’
‘Oh.’ She wasn’t sure which part of his statement to address first. ‘Do you drink and gamble?’
‘In moderation and never.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t even play whist.’
‘Then why are you worried about that?’
‘Because I haven’t always shown good judgement. Do you know why I accompanied Mr Hoxley to your shop that first afternoon? Because I was bored. I’d spent months on dry land drinking tea and making calls and I was bored to tears. What if I inherit Staunton and I can’t bear that, either?’
‘If you inherit, then I doubt you’ll have time to get bored. From what I understand, it takes a lot of work to run an estate.’
‘Are you defending the aristocracy now?’
‘No, just you, and you’re not your father. You’re a captain in the Navy. If you were so easily led astray, then you would never have made it to that rank.’ She frowned. ‘And it can’t be boredom that really worries you. You said yourself that the navy was boring at times. No...’ she shook her head ‘...there has to be another reason.’
He quirked an eyebrow. ‘You think you know me so well?’
‘It just doesn’t make sense that you’d be afraid of turning into your father. You already know that you’re not really.’
The skin across his jaw seemed to stretch with tension. ‘Well, then, maybe some things can’t be explained.’
‘Or maybe you know, but you don’t want to admit it?’
‘Anna...’
‘I could call your grandmother back out here.’
A flash of anger animated his face ‘All right, maybe it’s not because I’m afraid of turning into my father. Maybe it’s because I don’t see why I shouldn’t! His family never even acknowledged my existence, let alone wanted to meet me. I’m the heir that nobody wanted, but if I inherit then I’m expected to just give up the life I built for myself, a life that I love, out of some kind of familial loyalty? Why should I? I never asked for their money and I sure as hell don’t want it now. Why shouldn’t I drink and gamble it all away just to spite them? How can I ever belong in a place where I was never wanted?’
She took another step towards him, feeling a burst of sympathy at the look of heartfelt anguish on his face. ‘For what it’s worth, I think it was your family’s loss not to know you.’
‘I could say the same thing about your grandfather, the Duke.’ He looked deep into her eyes, his expression arrested and faintly wondering. ‘It’s strange, but you might be the only person in the world who can understand.’
She felt her pulse quicken at the words. It was the same thing she’d thought when she’d told him how she felt trapped, as if they truly could understand each other. As if maybe, despite everything, they might be a good match after all, just as the Baroness had said. The way he was looking at her now suggested he thought so, too, but how could that be possible? She was a shopkeeper and he was an earl...maybe. Or maybe not. There was an equal chance that he might remain a captain.
‘I do understand.’ She tried to keep her voice normal. ‘Only my mother told me recently that bitterness and resentment weren’t very attractive qualities. Shall I repeat her lecture?’
‘Did it make you feel any better?’
‘No, but it did make me think. Now I want to let go of the past and move on, wherever it leads me.’
‘Wherever...?’ He echoed the word as he lifted a hand to the side of her face, his fingers sliding gently across the curve of her cheek and beneath her chin, tilting it upwards. The touch sent a thrill of heat coursing through her body, making her feel as if every inch of her skin was blushing. Thank goodness they were outside in the dark. Although they really shouldn’t be. Not together and certainly not touching like this. No matter what he said about understanding each other, there were still too many obstacles between them. Only it was becoming hard to hold on to that thought.
‘We ought to go in.’ She swallowed nervously. ‘You said it was time for supper.’
‘Did I?’ He moved closer, his jacket brushing against the front of her dress. ‘I can’t remember.’
‘Yes. I don’t think...’
Her words faltered as his arms closed around her waist, enveloping her in a feeling of strong masculine warmth. She didn’t move or resist, too surprised to do anything as he leaned in towards her, his mouth moving slowly towards and then hovering above hers, so tantalisingly close that it was hard to believe they weren’t already touching. She could feel the warmth of his breath as it skimmed across her cheek...and then there was a sensation of cold air as he moved to one side, gently grazing the edge of her mouth.
She gave a small jolt of surprise, vaguely wondering if he’d missed, though it was hard to imagine how that could be possible at such a close distance. Not that the sensation was unpleasant. On the contrary, her cheek seemed to be throbbing beneath the caress of his lips. No, he hadn’t missed, she realised, as his mouth drifted down her neck and into the dip at the base of her throat, his tongue darting out in a way that made her breathing come to an abrupt and ragged halt. She lifted her hands to his shoulders to steady herself, her pulse accelerating to a dizzyingly rapid tempo as her fingers curled around the hard, solid mass of the muscles beneath his jacket. Was the whole of his body like this? she wondered. There was only one way to find out...
Tentatively, she lowered her hands, dragging them slowly over his chest, her breath returning in a series of too-loud, too-rapid gasps. Yes, she realised, he was the same all over. Emphatically so. Hard and honed and muscular. And she was touching him. Fondling him almost as his lips and tongue continued to trail a path over her throat. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, mortified by her own behaviour and yet powerless to do anything to stop it. Her whole body was in thrall, alive with so many sensations that it was hard to hold on to reality. All she wanted was to keep on touching him like this, to keep on being touched, too...but they had to go back inside. If anyone found them like this, they’d be well and truly compromised...
One of his hands pressed against the small of her back, smoothing its way up the length of her spine until it cupped the back of her head. She opened her eyes to find his only a short distance away. They were watching her intently, possessed with the same look of hunger she’d seen when she’d reached out to him in the colonnade. Did she look the same? Probably. She could feel the same ache she’d felt that day, too, that odd empty, yearning sensation low down in her stomach.
Now, surely now, he was going to kiss her? She hoped so. Maybe then the ache would be satisfied and go away. Just one quick kiss and they could go back inside the house and nobody would be any the wiser. In the meantime, all her senses felt in danger of being overwhelmed. The silvery light of his eyes, the husky sound of his breathing, the warm touch of his fingers, the citrusy scent of his cologne... There was only taste left and, more than anything at that moment, she wanted to taste his lips, just to see what they would be like. She felt her own part in anticipation and saw his gaze follow the movement.
‘Samuel?’ She spoke his name in a whisper.
He answered by moulding his lips against hers, plundering her mouth with an intensity that only made her want more. So much for one quick kiss. If anything the aching sensation seemed to be getting stronger, but that couldn’t be right, could it? This was nothing like the first time she’d been kissed. She’d never even imagined that a kiss could be so completely destabilising.
‘Anna...’ He pulled away again after a few moments, breathing as rapidly as if he’d been running.
‘Yes?’
‘If this is your idea of talking some sense into me, then I’m convinced.’
‘Then you’ll come with us?’ The prospect seemed ten times more exciting all of a sudden.
‘I will.’ There was a sound of a gong being struck and he nudged his lips against hers one last time. ‘Just as long as you know this conversation isn’t over.’