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‘Really?’ Sebastian had to make a conscious effort not to clench his jaw at the words. If that were the case, then it was possible his new brother-in-law already knew what had happened to the Menelaus. The question was whether or not he would have told Anna. He hoped not, and fortunately Miss Gardiner seemed to have no idea...
‘I’m afraid there was no way for me to send word any earlier.’ He shifted forward in his chair, splaying both of his hands out on the table in what he hoped was a masterful way of steering the conversation. ‘But I’m here now. Only it appears that I’ve come to the wrong place.’
‘Not wrong. It’s still your family’s shop. They’re just...’
‘Not here?’
‘No.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘I’m afraid not.’
Their gazes locked across the table and he found himself instinctively smiling back. Her eyes were a luminous and vibrant blue, he noticed, as clear and enticing as the tropical seas he’d seen on the other side of the world, like warm pools he might willingly dive into. Something about them made him completely forget what they were talking about. If he hadn’t known better, he would actually have thought they had some kind of hypnotising effect... He couldn’t take his own off them.
‘More tea?’ She broke the spell, reaching for the teapot. ‘I think there’s a little left.’
‘No, thank you.’ He stood up, suddenly aware of the impropriety of their situation and wondering if her eyes weren’t perhaps a little too enticing for their own good. ‘I ought to be on my way.’
‘You’re leaving?’ She looked startled. ‘But it’s the middle of the night!’
‘True, but under the circumstances I can hardly stay here. It wouldn’t be proper, or so my mother would tell me anyway.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ A series of expressions passed over her face before settling into one of resolve. ‘But I can’t possibly throw you out into the cold. Belles belongs to your family, which makes it your home even more than it is mine.’
‘Miss Gardiner...’
‘I admit that the circumstances aren’t ideal...’ she spoke over him ‘...but it’s not as if Nancy and I are ladies. Nobody cares what we do. There’s really only the shop’s reputation to think about, but as long as we smuggle you out discreetly in the morning, then who’s to know you were ever here?’
‘I still don’t think...’
‘But I insist.’ Her chin jutted upwards mutinously. ‘Most decent establishments will be closed at this time of night and, even if they aren’t, it’s likely to be freezing outside. Improper or not, I’d never be able to look Anna in the face again if anything happened to you. No, Mr Fortini, I simply cannot allow you to leave, not when there’s a perfectly serviceable sofa in the parlour.’
‘The green one? I remember.’
‘Good. Because I’m putting my foot down.’
‘So I see.’ He rubbed a hand over his chin, recalling his earlier glimpse of ankle and feeling rather impressed by her speech. It seemed a shame to gainsay her after all that—besides, who was he to argue when a beautiful woman insisted that he stay for the night? Even if it wasn’t quite in the way he might have preferred. An image of lithe female limbs wrapped around his own floated into his mind... He didn’t want to think about how long it had been since that had last happened...or since he’d done anything with a woman for that matter. No wonder he was fantasising about ankles!
‘Well then...’ He cleared his throat huskily. ‘I appreciate your hospitality, Miss Gardiner.’
‘You do?’ She looked vaguely surprised by her own success. ‘I mean, good. I’ll go and fetch some blankets and meet you in the parlour in a few minutes.’
‘I’ll see you there.’
Sebastian watched her go, dropping back into his chair to take stock of the events of the night. His nose was possibly broken, there were going to be bruises on sensitive areas of his body, he was no closer to being reunited with his family and he was about to sleep on a sofa that,
if memory served, was a good foot too short to be comfortable. He ought to be wishing he’d stayed in Plymouth. Instead, he felt quite unexpectedly happy.
It must be the shop, he reasoned in bewilderment. Only that could explain this powerful, strangely profound sense of being home.
Chapter Two
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.’
