‘Here we are, Miss Gardiner.’
Sebastian found them a small, octagon-shaped table in one corner of the tea room and tried to think of some innocuous subject to talk about. His companion was pursing her lips so tightly that she resembled a strait-laced and highly strung governess, a look exacerbated by her frankly appalling taste in clothes. She’d seemed tense from the moment they’d left Belles—since he’d come down to breakfast, now he thought about it—but he’d believed that she’d been starting to relax in his company. Obviously not. Whatever camaraderie they’d established during their walk was now completely gone. She seemed a whole different woman from the one who’d accosted him with fire tongs at midnight and he had no idea what the hell had gone wrong.
He folded one long leg over the other and bit back a sigh. In all honesty, he was having regrets about inviting her to walk at all, but ironically, he’d wanted to spend more time with her. Hard as it was to believe or remember why at that moment, he’d wanted to enjoy his newfound freedom with her and a walk in the sunshine. Now he had the impression that she was regretting it, too. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was actually counting the minutes until he took her back to the shop, which didn’t say a great deal for his company, but then he supposed he was somewhat out of practice in talking to the opposite sex.
Months on end at sea with eight hundred other sailors tended to have a somewhat coarsening effect on a man’s manners, which was probably why he’d ended up offending her, although calling her beautiful wasn’t such a terrible thing to do, was it? Especially when he’d been entirely serious. She would have been stunning wearing a sack. And he didn’t even know where to begin with her declaration about loose morals. She was acting as if he’d just tried to seduce her in the street in broad daylight!
Not that he would have been entirely averse to the idea...
‘Thank you.’ Miss Gardiner managed a half-smile as the waitress placed two cups of tea on the table in front of them. ‘And you, too, Mr Fortini. This is very kind.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ He nodded tersely. At least he’d got one thing right that morning. ‘My mother always liked this tea shop. I’m glad it’s still here.’
‘Yes.’ She took a sip and then placed her cup back in its saucer with a loud rattle. Or at least it seemed loud in the silence that followed since neither of them appeared to have any idea what else to say next.
‘Tea in the navy is appalling.’ He groaned inwardly as the words emerged from his own lips. Why not just talk about the weather?
‘Really?’
‘Yes, the leaves get weaker and weaker over the course of a voyage. We had to give up on them eventually on my last ship. Quite a calamity for an Englishman.’
‘I suppose so.’ Her lips un-pursed slightly. ‘Nancy and I were thinking about selling tea at the shop. Or coffee, perhaps, to go with the biscuits. I thought I might suggest it to Anna the next time she visits. Of course, we’ll probably have to hire another assistant, but the shop’s doing well enough that I think we can afford it...’ Her voice trailed away as if she thought she’d just said too much. ‘We’ll see.’
‘It sounds like an excellent idea to me.’ He shifted forward in his seat. ‘Miss Gardiner, about before—’
‘It’s quite all right,’ she interrupted quickly. ‘Perhaps I overreacted. In fact, I probably did. It’s just that I prefer not to be complimented.’
Sebastian resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows at such a curious statement. Surely a woman who looked the way she did received dozens of compliments every day? And compliments were generally considered to be good things, weren’t they? Why would she object? Then again, why would a beautiful woman deliberately dress herself in a garment that resembled nothing so much as an old coal sack? Not to mention a bonnet that seemed intended to drain all the colour from her complexion. Unless she was wearing them deliberately to discourage him from offering any form of flattery? Because she didn’t want to look attractive? He thought back to her earlier protest. I’m not that kind of woman... What the hell kind of impression did she think she’d given him during the night?
He gave a jolt, realising that she was still waiting for an answer. ‘Of course.’
‘In fact, I’d prefer it if you’d speak to me as you would to Anna, as if I’m your sister.’
This time he had to wrench his eyebrows firmly back into place. Apparently, he really had lost his touch with the opposite sex if she was experiencing fraternal feelings towards him. Not that it ought to matter since he was leaving Bath soon anyway, but a man had his pride. Still, if fraternal was what she wanted, then fraternal was what he would give her. Which meant, first and foremost, that he needed to stop paying quite so much attention to her lips. Even pursed, they were still decidedly tempting: plump in the middle, with a peaked cupid’s bow that he wanted to run his finger along. What would it be like to kiss her? he wondered. To slide his hands into her hair and bring her face to his, to press his own lips against her forehead and cheeks, maybe the tip of her nose, then finally her mouth...
‘Very well.’ He cleared his throat, feeling hot under the collar all of a sudden. ‘But I should warn you this gives me licence to pull your hair and untie your apron strings.’
There was a faint spark in her eye. ‘Then I’ll just have to keep my bonnet on and be vigilant.’
‘Excellent idea. You can’t be too careful.’ He leaned backwards, relieved that they’d cleared the air slightly at least. ‘So where shall we wander to next? Up to the Circus?’
The spark faltered and then went out. ‘I think perhaps I ought to return to Belles. I’m not happy about leaving Nancy to mind the shop all alone.’
‘Ah...’ He inclined his head. It seemed she really was counting the minutes, after all, although perhaps she was right and it was better to put their promenade out of its misery before they ended up talking about tea again. ‘As you wish. In that case, I’ll escort you back.’
‘There’s really no need.’
‘There is to me.’ He picked up his teacup with a terse smile. ‘I said I wasn’t much of a gentleman, Miss Gardiner, but I do make a bit of an effort. We’ll leave whenever you’re ready.’
‘Sebastian Fortini?’ A strapping, chestnut-haired man wearing a leather apron put down the barrel he was carrying and strode across the shop floor to greet him. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to visit an old friend, but I can’t see him anywhere.’ Sebastian made a show of looking around. ‘You look a bit like him, but you can’t be. The James Redbourne I knew was a scrawny lad, all skin and bones.’
‘I was a late developer.’
‘Late? You must have grown at least a foot since I left.’
‘A foot and a half, actually.’
‘Well, it’s good to see you again.’ Sebastian found himself enveloped in a bear hug. ‘Even if you are taller and broader than me these days.’
‘Without any obvious bruises either.’ His old friend peered at his face. ‘What happened to your nose? Have you been fighting?’
‘No. For once in my life, I’ve been entirely innocent of wrongdoing. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to make any difference to the result.’
‘Then I want to hear all about it. Come on.’ James draped an arm around his shoulders, jerking his head at one of the women behind the counter as he steered him towards a small and pristinely tidy office.
‘Take a seat.’ James gestured towards a green leather-backed chair in front of a mahogany desk and then sat down behind it, extracting a bottle and two glasses from one of the drawers. ‘Whisky?’
‘I wouldn’t say no.’ Sebastian eased himself into the chair with a contented and approving sigh. ‘The place looks good.’
‘It’s a new start.’ James poured amber liquid into the two glasses and nudged one across the table. ‘Our old premises were getting cramped so, once I took over the business, I decided we had to move.’
‘I’m impressed. I thought your father would never retire.’
‘So did I, but in the end my mother made the decision for him. Something to the effect of waiting fifty years for his attention and it was either her or the shop. Now they have a cottage in the country and are both happier than I’ve ever seen them. He’s even taken up gardening. Delphiniums are his speciality.’
‘Good for him. And even better for you. You’re obviously a hands-on kind of manager.’
James glanced down at his leather apron and grinned. ‘We had a delivery of brandy this morning.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Sebastian raised his glass. ‘Apparently I came home at just the right time.’
‘Cheers!’ James swallowed a mouthful and then gave him a searching look. ‘But what are you doing in Bath? Shouldn’t you be in Derbyshire, visiting Anna? Or the Countess of Staunton, I suppose I should call her now.’
‘That’s going to take some getting used to.’ Sebastian rolled his eyes. ‘The truth is I didn’t know that she’d left, or that she’d got married either for that matter. I only found out when I got back to Belles last night and my mind is still boggling.’
‘You only got home last night?’
‘During the night, yes. That’s how I ended up with this bruise.’
‘Don’t tell me, the charming Miss MacQueen?’
‘Miss Gardiner actually.’
‘Miss Gardiner?’ James spluttered on his drink. ‘She hit you?’
‘Not directly. She used a door. Then she threatened to castrate me with a pair of fire tongs.’
‘You must have made quite an impression.’
‘She thought I was a burglar, though in all fairness, she saved me from having a vase smashed over my head this morning. That was Miss MacQueen.’ He put his glass down on the table for a refill. ‘It was an eventful night.’
‘It sounds like it.’
‘Do you know her at all?’
‘Miss MacQueen?’
‘Miss Gardiner.’
‘Oh.’ If he wasn’t mistaken, his old friend’s cheeks flushed slightly. ‘No, not very well. She was quite friendly when we first moved in, but she’s been a lot more reserved since she took over Belles. One of my men tried flirting with her once and she almost bit his head off. Now they call her the ice queen, but no one really knows what to make of her any more.’
‘I’m glad I’m not the only one.’
‘Anna trusts her anyway.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Sebastian paused with his glass halfway to his lips.
‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing means something. I know you, James. What is it?’
His friend swallowed another mouthful of whisky and sighed. ‘There were some rumours a while ago. Something to do with her previous place of employment. A milliner, I think.’
‘A dressmaker. What kind of rumours?’
‘I don’t like gossip, Seb.’
‘Neither do I, but if she’s running my family business then I have a right to know.’
He winced inwardly, feeling a twinge of guilt at the words. They sounded pompous, not to mention faintly hypocritical given that he hadn’t been involved in the business for so many years. In retrospect, Miss Gardiner had seemed somewhat defensive when he’d asked about her previous employment earlier, although she’d also told him that Anna knew her reasons for leaving. All of which meant that it was none of his business. In this case, however, curiosity appeared to outweigh conscience.
‘All right, but it doesn’t go outside this room.’ James stood up and closed the door. ‘They say there was some kind of scandal involving her and the owner’s son.’
‘They say?’
‘One of my staff heard a story. Something about the mother accusing her of being a fortune hunter, of trying to seduce and trap him into marriage, but as to whether it’s true...’ He lifted his shoulders. ‘In any case, she was sacked without references. That part’s definitely true because I remember she came to the old shop looking for work. Unfortunately, my father wasn’t sympathetic.’
Sebastian frowned into his glass, swirling the liquid around as he mentally negotiated his way through a confusing blend of emotions—indignation, surprise and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on... He didn’t want to pay any heed to gossip and it was frankly hard to believe that the guarded and prickly woman he’d spent the morning with could ever have done something so scandalous, but it put her words about loose morals into some kind of perspective, especially if she’d been accused of them before...
If that were the case, however, then she’d either been unjustly accused or she was a reformed character, but surely something must have happened for her to be sacked without references...and damn it if the other emotion wasn’t jealousy!
Jealousy? How could he be jealous over a woman he hadn’t even met this time yesterday? The very idea was outlandish. Laughable, really. And yet something about it rang true.
‘So, are you back on dry land for good?’ James seemed eager to steer the conversation into a different channel. ‘Or are you still restless?’
‘Not as much as I used to be. To be honest, I’d reconciled myself to the idea of coming back to help Anna with Belles, but it appears I’m surplus to requirements. It’s been taken over by two attractive, but extremely violent females.’ He made a wry face. ‘It could have been worse, I suppose. As for the navy, I’m pretty sure my chances of finding another post were scuppered alongside Napoleon’s fleet.’ He frowned. ‘Although I’m not entirely sure I’d want to go back anyway.’
‘So, what next?’
‘Next I’ll go north to visit Anna and my mother. After that...who knows? The world’s my oyster apparently, although I thought I might loiter in Bath for today.’
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ James grinned. ‘In that case, you should stay with me tonight. I have rooms upstairs.’
‘You’re inviting me to stay in a building that’s just received a fresh delivery of brandy?’
‘Actually, when you put it like that...’
‘Too late. I accept.’ Sebastian laughed, resolving to put all thoughts of Miss Gardiner, fortune-hunting seductress or not, out of his mind. Aside from her obvious lack of interest in him, her past was none of his business and he had other things to think about. What to do with his future for a start. His sister was happily married, his mother ensconced with her family in the north and Belles appeared to be running smoothly. The world really was his oyster...and the last thing he needed was to be distracted by a woman, especially an ice queen.
He lifted his glass and tossed back the last of his whisky. He’d go and pick up his bag from Belles later, but after that...well, he doubted he’d be sharing anything more than pleasantries with Miss Gardiner again.