An Unconventional Countess (Regency Belles of Bath 1)

‘Oh.’ A hot flush rushed through her body at the implication. The look of bemused interest on his face made her feel hotter still, as well as acutely conscious of the fact that her only clothing consisted of a plain cotton nightgown that stopped halfway down her calves. Thank goodness for the dark. ‘No! Not until you tell me how you know Anna.’

‘Well.

..’ He jumped to his feet so abruptly that she took an instinctive step backwards. ‘I believe that we first met in the cradle. She used to sing me lullabies, as I recall. Allow me to introduce myself. Sebastian Fortini, at your service.’

‘Anna’s little brother?’ Now that he mentioned it, she could see the resemblance. His dark hair was wavy and dishevelled rather than curly, but he had the same square-shaped jaw and soulful, deep-set brown eyes. Judging by the crinkles around them, she had the impression that he laughed a lot. They held a mirthful glint now that made her want to smile, too.

‘The one and only.’ He winked good-naturedly and made an elaborate bow, flourishing the now bloodstained handkerchief out in front of him. ‘As for you, I assume that you’re a figment of my imagination caused by the blow to my head.’

‘Oh, dear.’ She put the tongs and shovel down by the fireplace. ‘Sorry about that. I really thought you were a burglar.’

‘Perfectly understandable.’

‘My name’s Henrietta Gardiner.’

‘Delighted to meet you, even under the circumstances.’ His sudden grin was dazzling. ‘So, Miss Gardiner, has my sister employed you to guard the shop against night-time marauders?’

‘Not exactly. I’m the new manager.’

‘Manager?’ His gaze sharpened. ‘Why is Anna employing a manager?’

‘Because she’s...’ She hesitated, looking at him askance. ‘Wait, didn’t you get any of her letters?’

‘No. My ship’s been stuck out in the Pacific for the past year. I haven’t heard anything from home in the whole time. What’s happened? Is she all right? Has something happened to our mother?’

‘Oh, no, everything’s all right.’ Henrietta hastened to reassure him. ‘They’re both perfectly well, only...’ She sucked on her bottom lip, wondering where to begin. ‘I think I’d better put the kettle on. Are you hungry? There are some leftover biscuits somewhere.’

‘You mean Belles?’ He sat down at the table with a nostalgic expression. ‘I can’t remember the last time I had one of those. I hope Anna hasn’t been messing around with the recipe.’

‘You might be surprised by what Anna has done.’ Henrietta stifled a smile. ‘Welcome home, Mr Fortini, we have a lot to talk about.’

* * *

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