‘Do what exactly?’
‘Talk some sense into her!’
‘Something tells me that you’ve already covered the subject quite thoroughly.’
The way her eyelashes fluttered confirmed it. ‘Then what do you suggest I do? I can’t just let her go with him!’
‘No, but if you interfere now then they’ll only arrange something else. You’ll only delay the inevitable.’
‘Then what can I do?’
He held on to her gaze, his whole body pulsing with an awareness of hers. Every one of his nerve endings seemed to be tingling and straining towards her. She looked so fierce and determined that he was seized with the same near-overwhelming urge to kiss her that he’d felt in the park. Which was quite possibly the stupidest idea imaginable under the circumstances. It certainly wasn’t a solution to their current problem. He had no idea what to do about that... And then he did, the answer coming to him in a blinding flash as he glanced along the street and saw that Ralph wasn’t the only person who’d stopped to talk. His grandmother was holding court amid a gathering of acquaintances.
He pulled one hand away from the pillar to rub across his chin, considering. It wouldn’t be the most honourable course of action, but it might be the most effective. Non-violent, too, which would save him from having to pummel some decency into his former friend.
‘Stay here and don’t let your assistant see you.’ He took a step away from her. ‘I know someone who can help us.’
‘Wait!’ Miss Fortini lifted a hand so quickly that it collided with his chest, her palm pressing flat over his heart. He stopped at once, feeling as if every muscle in his body had suddenly gone into spasm.
She must have felt something similar because her eyes widened and then dipped abruptly, a small gasp escaping her throat as she jerked her hand away again. ‘Forgive me, it was nothing.’
Nothing. He swallowed thickly. Whatever else it was, it was definitely not nothing. His heart was thumping a painfully rapid tattoo against the walls of his ribcage and his lungs seemed incapable of dragging in enough air. The pillar, the street, the crowd of people standing just a few feet away...all of them seemed to disappear and there was only her and him and a gathering heat that seemed to sear the very air between them... His gaze focused on the delicate flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat and, without thinking, he lifted a finger to touch it, rubbing his hand gently across the silky soft skin of her neck before sliding it around the back of her head and into the dark mass of her hair. He wanted to see her curls loose, he thought, swallowing again at the feeling of luxurious spirals against his fingertips. He wanted to see them wild and free, tumbling over her naked shoulders and breasts...
He cleared his throat, surprised by the vividness of the image in his mind’s eye. ‘There’s nothing to forgive, Miss Fortini. Leave this to me.’
* * *
Anna sagged back against the pillar, willing her breathing to return to normal and for the cold stone to have a cooling effect on her body. What had she been thinking, reaching out to Captain Delaney in such an intimate way? In that moment she hadn’t even cared that he was a gentleman! She’d simply acted by instinct, not wanting him to leave despite his offer of help, pressing her fingers against the solid wall of his chest as if she were the one there for a private assignation!
Not that he seemed to have minded. On the contrary, he’d touched her back, the gentle caress of his fingertips against her bare skin setting off a series of small fireworks inside her body. The expression on his face hadn’t been one of disapproval or disgust, either. It had been surprised, arrested...hungry?
Hungry for what?
Whatever it was, she’d wanted it, too. She still did, though the empty, tugging, tremulous sensation in her stomach felt more like an ache than hunger. On the other hand, maybe she was just confused. She certainly felt confused. Her skin was covered in goose pimples though she was red-hot all over and her mind was spinning so fast she felt giddy.
With a gargantuan effort she forced her mind back to the situation with Henrietta, peering out from behind the pillar again. What was Captain Delaney doing? He wasn’t heading towards his friend. Instead, he was striding purposefully towards an elderly-looking couple standing arm in arm at the end of the street. The woman in particular was striking, swathed from head to toe in dark purple with white hair, an upright, confident bearing and a long aquiline nose that tilted upwards as he approached.
She threw a swift glance towards Henrietta, wondering if she’d noticed him pass by, but it seemed not. Her friend was standing a few paces behind Mr Hoxley, apparently searching in her reticule for something, though in reality waiting for him. Anna felt her cheeks burn with indignation. How dared he! Not just try to seduce her friend, but to demean her like this? Forcing her to wait in the street as if she were his servant or some other female paid to do his bidding. It was just the kind of arrogant, entitled, aristocratic gesture that made her blood boil!
She curled her hands into fists, tempted to march out into the street and tell him exactly what she thought of him and his whole domineering class, but Captain Delaney had told her to wait and after asking for his help she ought to at least see what he planned. Of course he was a member of the same upper class as his friend, but there were exceptions to every rule. He was a rarity, a pearl among swine, almost too good to be true and even more strikingly handsome in his uniform than he was in his everyday attire. When she’d first noticed what he was wearing she’d felt an obscure urge to salute. His white trousers were practically moulded to his legs and his dark blue tailcoat, complete with epaulets and gold embroidery around the collar, encased his broad shoulders like a second skin. It was strange that Sebastian’s lieutenant’s uniform had never made her feel quite so tremulous inside, but then Sebastian was her brother and Captain Delaney was... Well, there was nothing remotely brotherly about the way she’d just reacted to him.
The older woman, however, must have been some kind of relation because he stepped right up to her without preamble, speaking into her ear as if he were sharing some kind of confidence. As Anna watched, the woman stiffened, but he laid a hand on
her arm, saying a few more words before removing it again. Whatever it was obviously did the trick. Anna had the distinct and faintly startling impression of a powerful energy being suddenly unleashed, like a lightning bolt striking down from a cloud. The moment his hand fell away the woman launched forward, waving her walking stick out in front of her like a weapon, though the martial gleam in her eye was enough to make most bystanders dart out of the way.
The only person who appeared oblivious to her wrathful approach was Mr Hoxley himself. He had his back turned towards her, laughing with a group of fashionable-looking young dandies. It was only at the last moment that he appeared to sense his impending doom and turned to find himself nose to nose with what Anna could only describe as a force of nature.
‘Lady Jarrow.’ Mr Hoxley attempted to make a bow, though the endeavour was thwarted by the fact that her face was so close and he could hardly do so without butting her in the head.
‘Hoxley.’ The woman looked him up and down in a manner that suggested he was little more than a worm beneath her feet. ‘I am appalled!’
Anna caught her breath and then clapped a hand over her mouth, repressing a strong urge to giggle. Lady Jarrow, as he’d just called her, wasn’t making the slightest attempt to be discreet, every word she uttered clearly audible to their now captivated audience. A trumpet, an entire marching band even, would have made less of an impact.
‘Madam.’ Mr Hoxley looked as if he’d just developed some kind of fever, his cheeks flushing a vivid shade of crimson. ‘I can’t imagine what I’ve done to offend you.’
‘Can’t you? Because I’ve been hearing rumours about you. Disturbing rumours. Lechery! Wantonness! Debauchery! You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’
‘I can assure you...’