The Convenient Felstone Marriage (Whitby Weddings 1)

‘No? What a shame. Though I did hear she didn’t like the smell of the shipyard. Too close to the fish market, perhaps. You must be feeling quite let down there.’

‘Would you care for something to eat, Mr Felstone?’

Ianthe’s voice prevented him from answering. He looked up to find her standing beside him, holding out a plate of miniature cakes with a distinctly apologetic expression, as if she were worried about the impact of the Baronet’s words. He raised an eyebrow, strangely touched by her int

ervention, though on the other hand, perhaps she was right to be worried. If he stayed another minute, he might make even more of a scene than he had yesterday.

Besides, he decided, he’d already done what she’d asked him. He’d definitely succeeded in making Sir Charles jealous. What she did next was up to her...

‘No, thank you.’ He swallowed the rest of his tea and stood up. ‘I’m afraid Sir Charles is right and I have work to do. The gala will be starting shortly.’

‘Of course, we mustn’t keep you any longer.’ She gave what looked like a genuine smile. ‘Thank you for calling.’

‘Miss Holt.’ He held out his hand and she took it, willingly this time, placing her smooth hand in his rough one with a smile that faded the instant their fingers touched.

He felt a jolt, as if someone had just shoved him hard in the chest, accompanied by a strange scorching sensation that seemed to pass through her fingers and up his arm, rendering him speechless. He saw her eyes widen in response, heard her sudden intake of breath, though somehow he couldn’t release her. He didn’t want to release her. He wanted to pull her closer. As close as he could...

‘Mr Felstone.’ She found her voice first, averting her gaze as she slowly tugged her hand away.

He cleared his throat, hardly trusting himself to speak as he made a formal bow to her aunt and then strode determinedly out of the parlour, barely pausing to scoop up his hat before charging out on to the street and almost slamming the door behind him.

What the hell had just happened?

He stopped on the doorstep to take a deep breath. One moment he’d been thinking about dragging the Baronet outside by the scruff of his expensive collar, the next he’d felt an almost visceral shock as his fingers had touched Ianthe’s. How could simply touching her hand have had such a powerful effect? She wasn’t unattractive, despite her unusual fashion sense, but he wasn’t attracted to her...was he? He frowned, alarmed by the possibility. That wasn’t what he wanted, wasn’t part of the business arrangement that he’d proposed. He wanted sensible and respectable. He had a business to build, not to mention a shipyard to run. The last thing he needed was a woman to distract him. Louisa had taken up enough of his time already.

But then he’d been angry, after all. He’d been tense, his blood fired up by Sir Charles’s comments about Louisa. Whatever he’d felt had probably just been temper, nothing to do with her at all...

He clamped his hat on his head and turned his steps in the direction of the station, walking so fast that he almost bumped into a couple walking arm in arm in the other direction.

‘Why, Robert!’ A pair of inquisitive blue eyes framed with dark curls peeped up at him from beneath an elaborate spoon bonnet. ‘Fancy meeting you here!’

‘Kitty.’ He forced a smile, still wrestling with his bad temper. In truth, he should have expected this, should have known he couldn’t enlist Kitty’s help with the gown and then expect her to keep away. Clearly his edited account of meeting Miss Holt on the train wasn’t enough to satiate her curiosity. ‘And Giles, too. What a coincidence. I thought you’d be on your way to the gala by now.’

‘So did I.’ Giles rolled his eyes.

‘Bit of an odd route you’re taking, then. You do remember that the station’s at the bottom of the hill, not the top?’

‘Quite.’

‘We’re taking a stroll to calm Giles’s nerves.’ Kitty fluttered her eyelashes innocently. ‘Though we’re heading back down now if you’d care to join us?’

‘With pleasure. If you’re sure that Giles has walked enough, that is?’ he couldn’t resist teasing, extending an arm to let Kitty hook her spare hand around it. After two years, he’d learned that there was no point trying to keep secrets from his friend’s wife—all but a few important ones, anyway—though he still had no intention of making her interrogation easy.

‘So?’ They’d only gone a couple of steps before she started. ‘Did Miss Holt like the dress?’

‘I think so.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’

‘Was your visit a success?’

‘In what way?’

‘Was she pleased to see you?’

His lips twitched. ‘That remains to be seen.’