The scream cut through the silence of the early morning like a knife. Not a blunt butter knife either, more of a bloodthirsty dagger, piercing Henrietta’s eardrums and bringing her back to consciousness with a start.
Heart thumping, she flung her quilt aside and leapt out of bed, remembering to grab her dressing gown this time as she sprinted out of her small attic room and down the stairs. After making up a bed on the sofa for Mr Fortini, she’d returned to her own, confident in her ability to wake up early enough to tell Nancy what had happened during the night, not to mention who to expect in the parlour, but her nocturnal adventure had obviously caused her to oversleep. Now the muffled exclamations and thuds coming from below made it sound as though a wildcat had been let loose in the parlour, which she had to admit was a pretty accurate description of her flaming-haired, flaming-tempered assistant.
‘Stop!’ She burst into the parlour just in time to snatch a vase out of Nancy’s hands and prevent her from hurling it like a missile across the room. ‘He’s a guest!’
‘What?’ Nancy spun around indignantly, still looking ready to do battle with her fists.
‘A guest! This is Mr Fortini, Anna’s brother. He arrived in the middle of the night and I said he could sleep here.’ Henrietta looked around the parlour with dismay. The sofa was lying on its side, there were books and ornaments strewn everywhere and a porcelain figurine of a cat was balancing precariously on the edge of a coffee table. ‘He didn’t know that Anna and his mother have moved out.’
‘How could he not know that?’
‘Because he’s been at sea and he never received any of their letters!’
‘Oh.’ The fiery light in Nancy’s eyes dimmed slightly. ‘Well, how was I supposed to know that?’
‘You weren’t.’ Henrietta sighed. ‘I was going to tell you when I woke up, but I slept longer than I expected and... Mr Fortini?’
She looked across the room to where the object of Nancy’s wrath was bending over, hands pressed against his knees, apparently struggling and failing to contain a burgeoning sense of mirth. He was also, she noticed with a quickly stifled gasp, in a state of considerable undress. Thankfully, he was still wearing breeches, but his jacket, waistcoat and cravat were all neatly folded to one side, while his plain white shirt was unbuttoned and gaping open to reveal an expanse of broad and muscular chest, liberally sprinkled with hair the same midnight shade as the dishevelled and curly locks on his head.
‘Are you laughing?’ She gaped at him in disbelief.
‘Just a little.’ He let out what could only be described as a guffaw.
‘But why?’
‘Why?’ It was several moments before he could answer with anything resembling calmness. ‘Because I’ve spent the past five years in His Majesty’s Navy and I’ve been attacked more in the past six hours than I have in almost the whole of that time. You two are more dangerous than the French.’
‘I should think so.’ Nancy folded her arms belligerently. ‘I could deal with Napoleon.’
‘I’m sure you’d be a worthy opponent. The Emperor wouldn’t stand a chance.’ Mr Fortini pushed himself upright and wiped his eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been tipped out of a bed before. Not even a hammock.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Henrietta winced. ‘I hope it didn’t hurt.’
‘Not too badly. Fortunately, I was distracted from the pain by the avalanche of books on my head.’
‘They were the first things that came to hand, but if you really are Anna’s brother then I’m sorry.’ Nancy slid the porcelain cat back to safety. ‘By the way, I think I might have damaged your nose.’
‘No, that was me.’ Henrietta shook her head miserably. ‘I hit him with a door in the night.’
‘Really?’ Nancy looked impressed.
‘Really,’ Mr Fortini confirmed. ‘She threatened to impale me with some tongs, too, though fortunately she relented. Altogether, it’s been a somewhat strange homecoming, but I’m delighted to meet you, Miss...?’
‘MacQueen. Nancy MacQueen.’
‘Sebastian Fortini, at your service.’
‘Hmmm.’ Nancy gave him a long, interrogatory stare. ‘No hard feelings, then?’
‘I wouldn’t dare.’
‘Good. In that case, I’d better go and get breakfast started. We won’t get the baking done on an empty stomach.’
Henrietta shuffled her feet self-consciously as Nancy disappeared down the lower flight of stairs to the kitchen and shop floor. It felt strange to be alone with Mr Fortini again. To be alone with any man for that matter. She’d made a point of avoiding situations like this for the past eight months and yet she’d spent at least an hour in his company during the night without any anxiety at all. She’d felt instinctively comfortable with him, probably because he was Anna’s brother—so much that she’d actually asked him to stay! It seemed so unlike her, these days anyway, that if it hadn’t been for her rude awakening then she might have suspected him to have been part of some dream. The whole situation was bizarre, but he looked too large and robust to be anything but real. Not to mention that there was an overturned sofa at his feet.
‘I really am sorry.’ She peered across at him sheepishly. ‘I’m usually the first one to wake up. It never occurred to me that I’d sleep longer.’
‘Since I was responsible for you being tired, I can hardly blame you for that.’ He lowered his voice conspiratorially. ‘Just promise there aren’t any more assailants lying in wait. I’m not sure my nerves could take it.’
‘I promise.’ She caught her breath as he leaned in towards her, one hand on his chest as if he were genuinely concerned about his nerves, which only drew her attention back to that part of his body, not to mention the row of powerful-looking stomach muscles underneath... Quickly, she lifted her gaze to his face, though that was hardly much better. He looked rugged and rumpled and, well, bruised, with a masculine appeal that went beyond merely handsome, not to mention a roguish glint in his eye that made her feel as if she’d just been running. Which to be fair, she had down the stairs, but that had been several minutes ago.
‘Well then...’ She bent down, grasping one end of the overturned sofa in an attempt to hide her face while she got her breath back. The whole parlour seemed somehow smaller and airless with him in it. ‘Perhaps you’d like to sleep some more? We’ll try not to make too much noise in the kitchen.’
‘Allow me.’ He flipped the sofa over as if it were just a piece of toy furniture. ‘No, I’ll get up now, too. I should probably be going before your neighbours arrive to see what all the commotion was about.’
‘If anyone asks, I’ll tell them a cat got into the house.’ She gathered up the books and stacked them back on the shelves, struck with a combination of relief and regret at the thought of him leaving. It seemed impossible to decide which was dominant. There was something both appealing and unsettling about him, something about his bare chest and playful, slightly lopsided smile that caused a peculiar fluttering sensation in her stomach. She wasn’t sure whether she liked that either, but surely good manners compelled her to offer him some refreshment?
‘Would you care for some breakfast before you go?’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. ‘It’s the least we can do after attacking you twice in one night.’
‘That’s a good point.’ He smiled in a way that made her heart perform a somersault in her chest and her head instantly regret the offer. ‘I’d be delighted, Miss Gardiner.’
‘I didn’t think I had a choice, especially after I hit his nose,’ Henrietta explained to her assistant ten minutes later. ‘He needed somewhere to sleep and this is his family’s shop.’
‘Did he demand to stay?’ Nancy looked suspicious again.
‘No-o. He was going to leave actually, but I offered to make up the sofa.’ She reached for a piece of toast and smeared butter across it. ‘Do you think I shouldn’t have?’
‘Not necessarily, but did you ask him for any proof?’
‘Proof of what?’
‘That he’s who he says he is.’ Nancy lifted her eyes to the ceiling. ‘He doesn’t look much like Anna, except for dark curly hair and brown eyes, but a lot of people have those.’
‘He has a similar way of speaking, too, and his lips are exactly the same shape as Anna’s.’
‘You’ve obviously been paying more attention than I have.’ Nancy gave her a quizzical look. ‘I can’t say I’ve looked that closely at his lips.’
‘Neither have I.’ Henrietta felt a wash of colour spread over her cheeks. ‘I just think they look similar, that’s all...’
She applied another, unnecessary layer of butter to her toast. Now that the shock of the night and that morning had worn off, she was starting to think that perhaps she had been somewhat foolish in encouraging Mr Fortini to stay. Even if he was Anna’s brother, which she was inclined to believe he was—either that or a very convincing impostor—who was to say that he was the kind of man she ought to have let stay under the same roof? Neither Anna nor her mother had ever told her anything untoward about him, but then he’d been away at sea for five years! If there was anything bad, they might not have known about it. And it had never even occurred to her to ask for proof of his identity! Instead, she’d been so taken aback by his arrival that she’d let her guard down and gone back to her old ways. She’d been too trusting. Too stupid. Too naive. More unworldly than ever. Good grief, even he’d thought that his staying was a bad idea! What must he think of her now, especially after the way she’d been staring at his chest that morning? What if she’d given him the wrong idea about her and her motives for inviting him to stay? What if he thought—?
‘Sorry about the books, by the way.’ Nancy interrupted the rising tide of panic. ‘I shouldn’t have thrown them.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Henrietta was too relieved by the interruption to scold. ‘Anna took all of her favourites when she left. It’s not as if we can read them anyway.’
‘You can. You’re still having lessons with Miss Pybus, aren’t you?’
‘Not recently. I haven’t had time.’
‘Humph.’ Nancy’s lips set in a thin, disapproving line. ‘Your brother doesn’t deserve you.’
‘Yes, he does.’ Henrietta dropped her toast back on to her plate. ‘He practically raised me on his own and you know he’s been in a terrible state since Alice died. It’s as though he’s broken inside.’
‘I know he’s not helping to mend himself either.’ Nancy’s expression was part-sharp, part-sympathetic. ‘My stepfather’s a drunk. I recognise the signs.’
‘David’s not a drunk. He’s just having a hard time taking care of himself and the boys at the moment.’
‘Well, I don’t think it’s fair the way he expects you to go every day and take care of them. My mother works herself to the bone for her worthless husband, too, and all she ever gets in return is misery. You’ll never catch me throwing my life away on a man, father, brother, husband or whatever you want to call them. If you ask me, the whole lot are a thousand times more trouble than they’re worth...’ Nancy speared a hard-boiled egg violently on the end of her fork. ‘Speaking of which, our guest needs to be on his way. It’ll be bad for business if people think we entertain sailors at night.’
‘Anyone who thinks us capable of that obviously has no idea what time bakers get up in the morning.’ Henrietta sighed. ‘But he said he’ll be leaving after breakfast anyway, travelling north to see Anna and his mother, I expect.’
‘My mother first.’ The man in question appeared in the kitchen doorway suddenly, smartly dressed and with his curly hair swept back into a low, slightly dishevelled queue. His square jaw, on which there had been a veritable swathe of black stubble that morning, appeared to have been quite ruthlessly shaved, making the now infamous shape of his lips even more noticeable.
Henrietta turned her attention back to her plate before she could notice anything else. Even with a bruised and off-centre nose, he looked quite disconcertingly handsome. Words like strapping and virile sprang to mind.
‘There’s no rush, however,’ Mr Fortini continued. ‘I came straight here from Plymouth and I’ve no desire to be shut up in a stagecoach again too soon. I thought I might actually stay in Bath for a few days, although somewhere else, naturally. Is the Wig and Mitre still open?’
‘Yes, but it’s not very fancy.’ Nancy lifted her eyebrows. ‘Wouldn’t a hotel suit you better?’
‘Not really. I may be an officer, but I’m not exactly what you’d call a gentleman.’ He winked. ‘Now, if that coffee’s sufficiently brewed, allow me to pour, ladies.’
‘Thank you.’ Henrietta took a deep breath as he placed a cup in front of her, trying to quell a fresh burst of fluttering in her chest now as well as her stomach. She’d felt quite comfortable with him during the night, except for one oddly intense moment when their gazes had locked over the teapot, but now it was downright unnerving, not to mention irritating, the way her body seemed to react whenever he winked or smiled or even so much as looked in her direction for that matter. She hadn’t felt so unnerved since...well, since Mr Hoxley, and look how that had turned out! She’d learned her lesson about men eight months ago and learned it thoroughly, too, or so she’d thought. Only something about Mr Sebastian Fortini seemed to place her in danger of forgetting it.
She picked up her coffee cup and blew steam across the surface. Frankly, the sooner he left for Yorkshire the better for her peace of mind—and body—it would be.
‘Well, this is pleasant.’ He sat down in the chair next to hers, a discreet distance away, yet close enough to make the whole right side of her body tingle with awareness. ‘You know, Anna told me about you, Miss Gardiner.’
‘She did?’ She looked around at the words. ‘But I thought you said you hadn’t heard from her for a year?’
‘I haven’t. It was before that, in the last letter I received. She’d said that she’d taken on a new assistant to replace the formidable Mrs Padgett and that you were a breath of fresh air. Now I can see why.’ He tipped his head closer. ‘I only hope she wasn’t too much of a tyrant to work for.’
‘Not at all.’ She stiffened despite his teasing tone. ‘I always loved working with Anna.’
‘I’m delighted to hear it. What about you, Miss MacQueen? Do you know my sister?’
‘A little.’ Nancy gave him an appraising look before continuing. ‘I got to know your mother quite well, too, when I first came to work here. She used to tell stories about you, like the time you and a friend climbed on to the roof and threw Belles at the houses opposite. She said that you were aiming for the chimneys, but the people in the street below thought it was raining biscuits.’
‘Ah...yes.’ Mr Fortini rubbed a hand around the back of his neck. ‘I suppose I wasn’t always the most responsible youth, but I promise to be perfectly well behaved today. In fact, I thought I might go and visit a few of my old haunts if the two of you would care to join me?’
‘Us?’ Henrietta almost poured coffee into her lap.
‘Why not?’
‘The shop...’
‘Can be closed for one day. Anna and my mother might not be here, but I must have some kind of authority. I’ll take the blame anyway.’
‘I still don’t think...’
‘Why don’t just the two of you go?’ Nancy chimed in unexpectedly.
She felt her jaw drop in surprise. Considering her assistant’s earlier comments, Henrietta thought it was the very last thing she would have expected her to say. ‘But I couldn’t possibly leave you to do everything. It wouldn’t be fair.’
‘It is when I’m offering and it would be silly for us both to miss a trip out. I can manage on my own as long as we get the baking done first.’
‘And I can help with that,’ Mr Fortini offered.
‘You can bake?’ Henrietta looked from him to Nancy and then back again. If she hadn’t known better, she might have suspected them of conspiring together.
‘I grew up here, didn’t I?’ He was already rolling his sleeves up. ‘Admittedly, it’s been a few years since I last wielded a rolling pin, but I haven’t forgotten how. Between the three of us, we’ll get it all done in no time.’