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‘Fortunately?’
‘It left smarter men in charge. We’d restocked on provisions in the West Indies so we had enough food to wait for a thaw and we all stayed below deck together, trying to keep warm and desperately hoping the ice wouldn’t crush the ship. It wasn’t easy. Some of the men came close to despair. Most of the boys, too. They tried to act like men, but they were frightened.’
‘Like Peter is now?’ She tightened her grip on his arm. ‘No wonder you’re so good with him. I think those boys were lucky to have someone like you with them.’
‘I don’t know. I tried my best to keep their hopes up, but I felt so powerless, as if I were failing them. But we were lucky and survived. Any further north and we’d have been done for. A few men lost fingers and toes to frostbite, but after a few months, we were able to escape.’
‘So that’s why Anna didn’t hear from you for so long?’
‘Yes. We made it back to the West Indies eventually, but needless to say, the Admiralty wasn’t impressed. We were forbidden from sending messages home while there was an investigation, but in the end the whole thing was hushed up.’
‘But wasn’t your captain punished?’
‘Retired.’ He gave her a pointed look. ‘His brother is a marquess.’
‘Ah... So then you came home?’
‘Then we had to wait for the ship to be repaired, but, yes, then I came home.’
‘Well, that explains it.’
‘Explains what?’
‘Why you always dress as though it’s the middle of summer.’
He chuckled. ‘I believe there are parts of my body now permanently immune to the cold.’
‘You still shouldn’t be careless about it,’ she scolded him. ‘I’m going to knit you a scarf.’
‘Really?’ He felt both surprised and pleased by the idea. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Yes. What’s your favourite colour?’
‘Blue,’ he answered without hesitation. Which was funny because up until that moment he’d always thought it was red. And they were standing outside Belles, he realised suddenly. He hadn’t even noticed that they’d reached it, although he’d seen the boys go inside.
‘Blue it is.’ She moved closer to him, so close that every inch of his body seemed to tingle with awareness. He was vividly aware of the heavy thud of his own heartbeat. Any closer and she would be, too. ‘I’m glad you made it back to England safely.’
‘So am I.’ He made a conscious effort to keep his voice steady. ‘Although I’d rather not share the details with my family, at least not yet. Since I wasn’t here to help them, I’d rather they thought I was away doing something useful. I don’t want them feeling sorry for me either.’
‘I understand.’ She smiled softly. ‘Thank you for telling me.’
‘Well... I ought to be going.’ He inclined his head, reluctant to leave after sharing something so personal, although he hated saying goodbye to her in general, he realised, even when it was only for an hour or two. If the past week was any indication, he’d be craving her company again in a few minutes, but she had a business to run and he had more taverns to visit and they were just friends, dammit. All of which meant that he ought to be going.
Gently, he untucked her hand from the crook of his arm and lifted it to his lips. He did it every time he left, but this time he did it more slowly than usual, half expecting her to pull away, but she didn’t. Instead her eyes widened and flickered with a distinctly unfriend-like expression, the pupils swelling slightly as his lips touched the back of her glove. And why kissing fabric felt so damnably erotic at that moment, he had no idea.
‘Yes.’ Her voice sounded breathy. ‘Until tomorrow then.’
He took a step backwards and nearly ran down the street.
Chapter Eleven
Henrietta watched Sebastian through the glass pane of the shop door as he walked, surprisingly quickly, down the street. The dizzy, disorientated sensation she’d felt in the gazebo was back and stronger than ever. When he’d kissed her hand she’d actually felt as if her insides were trembling, a rush of heat coursing wildly through her veins straight to her abdomen. It felt new and exciting and shockingly wanton. As wanton as she’d once been accused of being. As wanton as...no, she’d never been wanton with Mr Hoxley. As wanton as she imagined a woman might feel for a man she cared about. Whatever she’d felt in the past was nothing compared to this. She didn’t even know what this was, but she had a suspicion it might be desire...
She placed her forehead against the glass to cool down. Even now, her pulse was still racing, hard and fast, and her legs were shaking, as if she’d been sitting on them for too long and they’d gone numb. She only hoped that Sebastian hadn’t noticed the effect he’d had on her limbs. It would be too mortifyingly ironic after the way she’d behaved towards him on that first day. It already was too ironic. She’d condemned him because she’d thought he’d been trying to flirt with her and now here she was tempted to flirt with him!
She didn’t know which was worse, the irony itself or the fact that she’d been wrong about his intentions and he was only helping her to make amends to his sister and because of the boys he thought that he’d failed on his ship. Both of which were even more reasons to like him! It was all such a tangle...
‘Nancy?’ she called out, unable to unravel the skein at that moment. Maybe she’d try later, when she was in bed and had time to think, although thinking about him in bed probably wasn’t such a good idea either... ‘Are you in the kitchen?’
