AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘About what happened, what she was accused of doing at the dressmaker’s.’
‘You mentioned that?’ Nancy looked appalled. ‘Why?’
‘I didn’t intend to mention it. We just happened to walk that way by accident and it came up and...please—’ he gestured towards the staircase ‘—let me talk to her.’
‘No. In case it isn’t already obvious, she doesn’t want to talk to you.’
‘I need to apologise.’
‘You need to do more than that.’ Nancy’s eyes flashed. ‘Didn’t it ever occur to you that the rumours you’ve heard weren’t true?’
‘I told her I was sure it wasn’t as bad as it sounded and—’ He stopped talking, struck with t
he distinct impression that Miss MacQueen was about to throw a fist at his head.
‘If that’s the best you can do, then you should turn around and leave right now.’ From the sound of it, her teeth were gritted. ‘If you weren’t Anna’s brother, I’d throw you out myself. Henrietta never set her cap at Roy Willerby. He was besotted with her! Only she wasn’t good enough for his mother so once the old bat found out, she gave Henrietta her marching orders. Without references, too, just to make it look as though it was all her fault.
‘And do you know what else?’ Nancy advanced a few steps towards him, standing on her tiptoes to speak into his face. ‘Even after his mother threw her out, Mr Willerby still wanted to marry her. She could have married him just to spite his mother and to have a place to live, too! But she didn’t because she didn’t care about him that way. Instead, she searched and searched for a job until finally your sister was smart enough to give her the benefit of the doubt. Unlike some people I could mention.’
‘I see.’ Sebastian felt his gut clench at the accusation. It was a fair one. He hadn’t necessarily assumed that Henrietta was guilty, just that there had been some grain of truth in the rumours...
‘Look...’ Nancy’s expression relented a tiny bit. ‘You seem—seemed—different. You’ve been a lot of help with the boys and as far as I can tell you’ve behaved decently, too. Most men take one look at her and their minds go straight to one thing, and because she’s a shop girl they think they can get it, too. That’s why she doesn’t like compliments, in case you were still wondering. She’s learnt her lesson about men the hard way. So if that’s all you’re after—’
‘It’s not,’ he interrupted her. ‘We’re friends.’
‘Are you sure? Because I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. You may be helping her with the boys, but maybe it’s time you started thinking about your intentions, too.’
‘My intentions?’ Sebastian ran a hand over his jaw. The whole situation struck him as ludicrous. Here he was, standing in his own family’s shop, being challenged by a woman younger than him, barring his way with an expression as ferocious as Boudicca herself. As for the matter of intentions, Henrietta had made it very clear that anything besides friendship was out of the question, so unless she’d changed her mind... And what had Miss MacQueen just said? The way you two look at each other, not the way he looked at her...
‘In any case...’ Nancy continued as the shop door opened to admit an elderly couple ‘...you can go and do your thinking elsewhere. She doesn’t want to speak with you at the moment.’
Sebastian bowed his head, feigning agreement before darting past the counter and up the stairs before Nancy could let out as much as a squeak of protest. He wouldn’t have long, he knew, but if he could just find Henrietta before Miss MacQueen found him... Had she changed her mind? His pulse quickened at the thought. Because if she had, then he’d be more than happy to oblige. And he couldn’t wait another minute to find out...
Chapter Thirteen
Sebastian reached the landing in less than three seconds. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Henrietta in the parlour so he carried on up to the next floor, the one he was least acquainted with. Despite growing up above the shop, he’d never spent a great deal of time in either of the two bedrooms—his own sleeping arrangements being a truckle bed in the parlour—but the staircase was still familiar enough for him not to feel strange about going there. Which, in retrospect, was probably a mistake, but then discretion had never been one of his strong suits.
‘I’m sor—’
He skidded to a halt, stopped in his tracks by the sight of Henrietta standing just inside her bedroom door, the grey gown she’d been wearing that morning draped over a chair while her yellow shop dress was only halfway over her hips.
‘What—?’ She jerked her head up at the sound of his voice, her expression turning swiftly from anger to shock to anger again before she reached a hand out and slammed the door in his face. Fortunately, his nose was far enough away this time not to suffer injury, although he had a feeling she wouldn’t have hesitated if it hadn’t been. She might actually have preferred it.
Double damn. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the wood. That hadn’t been supposed to happen. He’d come to apologise, not to ogle, to tell her he wasn’t like the other men Miss MacQueen had mentioned, but he had a horrible sinking feeling that he’d just lost the moral high ground on that one. Still, since it had happened, he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret it either—and he definitely wasn’t going to forget it any time soon.
Not only had she been half dressed, but her undergarments had been in a state of considerable disarray, in all the right places in his opinion. The way her breasts had been popping out of her chemise as she’d bent over had made the view nothing short of mesmerising. It was probably fortunate that he’d had only a few short seconds to appreciate it since his body had come dangerously close to combusting as it was. He had a feeling the memory alone was going to heat his blood for some time to come.
He was still leaning against the door, wondering what to do next, when it opened again abruptly, sending him toppling forwards into the room and on top of a now fully clad Henrietta, knocking her off balance like a domino and sending them both stumbling towards the bed.
‘Wait!’ It was a foolish thing for him to say, Sebastian thought, even as the word left his mouth. Wait? It wasn’t as if there was anything she—or he—could do to arrest their fall, though he made a valiant attempt to minimise injury none the less, curling one arm behind her back and managing to twist them both sideways so that they landed side by side rather than with his full weight on top of her.
‘Sorry.’ It was his second useless word in a row, he realised, staring into her eyes, which he couldn’t help but do since their noses were only an inch apart and their bodies were even closer, pressed intimately together with his arm squashed between her breast and the mattress. ‘I was leaning against the door.’
‘I noticed.’ She skewered him with a look though her cheeks were flaming red.
‘I didn’t know you were changing your clothes.’ He felt an additional need to explain. ‘Are you all right?’
‘It’s a mattress.’
