An Unconventional Countess (Regency Belles of Bath 1)

‘Oh...’ Anna sliced a potato somewhat over-vigorously with her knife. ‘I saw her today, that’s all.’

‘Really? I didn’t think she ever came to Bath.’

‘Well, she’s definitely here now. She invited us to tea on the Circus tomorrow.’

‘What?’ Her mother looked taken aback. ‘Just like that? Why?’

‘It’s a long story. Her grandson brought the invitation. Somehow she’s found out who you are and she wants to see you again.’

‘Goodness gracious.’ Her mother’s face brightened with a look that was both nostalgic and affectionate. ‘Yes, that does sound like her. She never cared about anyone else’s opinion, least of all the ton’s. Was her grandson that man in naval uniform I saw leaving earlier? He was very handsome.’

‘I didn’t notice.’ Anna shrugged dismissively. ‘Anyway, I told him we wouldn’t go.’

‘But I’d be delighted to see her again!’

‘What?’ Anna pushed her plate away, her appetite vanishing completely. ‘After the way society treated you and Father, why on earth would you want to spend time with any of them?’

‘Because society as a whole might have treated us badly, but she didn’t. She wasn’t even in London at the time.’

‘But won’t it be upsetting to stir up old memories again?’

‘Very old memories, dear, and I think I can manage.’ Her mother reached across the table to pat one of her hands. ‘I know that you’ve always tried to protect me from anyone I knew before my so-called disgrace, but there’s really no need. I knew exactly what I was doing when I eloped and what the consequences would be. I’m not as delicate as you think. If I was, then your father and I would have chosen somewhere a lot less conspicuous than Bath to set up shop.’

‘Yes, but...’

‘Then it’s decided. I’d very much like to see Georgiana again and you can close the shop early for once. If nothing else, a visit to the Baroness ought to be entertaining.’

‘Baroness?’

‘Yes. Didn’t her grandson mention that?’

‘No, he didn’t.’ Anna slumped down in her chair, her spirits sinking to new depths. Of course she’d be a baroness... ‘Are you really sure about this?’

‘Perfectly.’ Her mother was positively beaming. ‘I’m already looking forward it.’

Anna managed a wan smile in return. Her only hope was that a certain naval captain wouldn’t be there.

Chapter Seven

‘There—what did I tell you?’ Lady Jarrow gave a nod of unabashed smugness at the sound of a knock on the front door. ‘I’ve told Pearson to show them straight up, and they’re on time, too, I’m pleased to say. You know how I despise tardiness.’

‘I believe that you’ve mentioned it once or twice before.’ Samuel put aside his copy of Lyrical Ballads with a wry smile. ‘Although it might not be them.’

‘Well, of course it’s them. Who else would it be?’

He stood up, his gaze already travelling towards the drawing-room door. Personally he had significant doubts about the identity of the new arrivals, although he couldn’t help but hope for another chance to apologise to Miss Fortini. Her refusal had been definite, to say the least, but then perhaps her mother had decided otherwise and it did seem unlikely to be anyone else. His grandmother’s forthright opinions were notorious enough to put off all but the most thick-skinned of callers.

He’d barely had a chance to wonder, however, before the butler opened the door and Miss Fortini herself appeared. To his surprise, she looked comparatively neat for once, her dark hair scooped up into its usual high bun, though with the addition of two red bands across the top to hold stray curls in place. She was wearing a smart-looking dress, too, in the same practical style as her shop gown, but in a shade of light pink that perfectly complemented her complexion, making her skin glow with a luminous sheen.

The lady who entered behind her, meanwhile, looked nothing at all like someone who’d allegedly ruined herself. On the contrary, despite walking with a slight limp, she was tall and elegant, wit

h chestnut-coloured ringlets and a remarkably youthful, unblemished countenance. She was also smiling, in contrast to her daughter, who looked as if she was only there under sufferance. Which, given her protestations of the previous day, was probably the case. Miss Fortini certainly didn’t look in a very forgiving mood. He made her a formal bow, which she pointedly ignored.

‘Elizabeth Holden.’ As usual, his grandmother got straight to the point. ‘So it is you.’

‘It is, Lady Jarrow.’ The older woman smiled and dipped into a stiff, but still graceful, curtsy, one that was belatedly copied with an air of reluctance and significantly less grace by the younger. ‘May I present my daughter, Miss Annabelle Fortini?’

‘The famous Belle, I presume?’ His grandmother’s gaze swept up and down appraisingly. ‘I believe that you already know my grandson, Captain Samuel Delaney?’