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‘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.’
