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‘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.’
Chapter Three
Henrietta stared unhappily into her bedroom mirror. She’d changed out of the plain brown muslin she used for baking and into her best cotton day dress, but her reflection looked all wrong. The turquoise-blue shade of the fabric matched her eyes perfectly, complementing her skin tone and even somehow accentuating the strawberry threads in her hair, but those very things in themselves made her uneasy. She didn’t want to match or complement or accentuate anything. And she didn’t want to go for a walk either!
She stuck her tongue out at her reflection. It wasn’t that Mr Fortini wasn’t good company. On the contrary, he’d proven himself extremely good company that morning, chatting, joking and even singing a few verses of opera while he’d demonstrated his formidable skill in the kitchen. It wasn’t that the weather was poor either. The world outside her window looked cold but sunny, surprisingly so for November. Annoyingly perfect for a promenade. It was just...why had he asked her to accompany him? Why did he want to go for a walk with her? What if she really had given him the wrong impression during the night and he thought she was the kind of woman who might welcome male attention? What if he wanted to flirt with her, or worse?
On the other hand, she reassured herself, he’d included Nancy in the invitation, too. That would have been acceptable, enjoyable even, if it hadn’t been for her assista
nt’s out-of-character suggestion that just the two of them should go. They’d have to discuss that later, Henrietta thought darkly, but right now she had more immediate problems. Such as the fact that she was going for a walk with a man, a gentleman even, which he was no matter how he described himself.
Anna had told her the story a few months before, about how their mother, Lady Elizabeth Holden, the only daughter of a duke, had run away with an Italian footman twenty-five years before and been disowned by her family right up until that past summer. That made Mr Fortini a gentleman, of sorts anyway, although whether he was or wasn’t was beside the point since she no longer went for walks with any kind of man, no matter how ruggedly handsome she might find them.
No, she decided, unbuttoning her dress despite the fact that she’d already wasted five minutes simply staring and worrying, she couldn’t wear anything so flattering. Or anything that might enhance her appearance at all! As much as she wanted and strove to be modest, it was impossible to deny the effect her looks seemed to have upon men. If she could have given some of her beauty away, she would have done so—and gladly. Maybe then she would have stood a chance of knowing who was interested in her real self and not just her appearance. Up until a few months ago, she hadn’t understood the difference, but now she knew that all most men saw or cared about was her face and figure. They all wanted the same thing, too, something she wasn’t prepared to give, and it didn’t take much for them to confuse friendliness for encouragement. She’d learned that from experience, too, and had no intention of making the same mistake again.
Quickly, she slid the blue dress over her hips and replaced it with the most shapeless item she owned, a scratchy grey woollen gown that irritated her skin, but was eminently sensible for a winter’s excursion, then wrapped a dowdy old shawl around her shoulders and topped the effect with an even dowdier jockey cap bonnet. There, she thought with satisfaction, taking a second look in the mirror before starting down the staircase, that was much better. Or, if not better, then at least nothing that could be misinterpreted. If Mr Fortini was like most other men and judged by appearances, her outfit would tell him everything he needed to know about her. She looked like what she was determined to be: a serious and respectable shopkeeper, not someone to be flirted with and absolutely not the kind of woman who flashed her ankles while accosting men in her nightgown.
Of course, it was possible, she realised upon entering the shop, that she was somewhat overdoing the statement. Or definitely overdoing it if the roll of Nancy’s eyes was anything to go by. If Mr Fortini hadn’t already been leaning against the shop counter, waiting for her in a surprisingly thin-looking jacket and black top hat, she had a feeling she might have been marched back up the stairs and made to change. Again.
‘Ready, Miss Gardiner?’ Mr Fortini’s own expression didn’t waver as he opened the shop door.
‘Quite ready, thank you.’ She threw Nancy a pointed look and stepped outside, albeit wondering whether the eye roll was appropriate and she was overreacting a little. After all, Mr Fortini was Anna’s brother and it wasn’t as if he’d suggested anything scandalous. They were simply going for a walk around the city in broad daylight, a stroll down memory lane for him and a pleasant change to the daily routine for her. And Bath in the winter was more spectacularly beautiful than ever, the long rows of limestone buildings glowing a pale honey-gold shade wherever the sun kissed them. It would really be a shame not to enjoy such a gorgeous day while it lasted. There was nothing for her to be worried about and she really shouldn’t—
‘Shall we?’
