Unexpectedly Wed to the Officer (Regency Belles of Bath 2)

‘Well...’ He braced his hands on the floor, pushing himself to his feet so abruptly that she leapt part way into the air, the tongs wobbling precariously in her grasp. ‘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?’

‘The one and only.’ He winked and made an elaborate bow, enjoying her gasp of surprise as he flourished the now bloodstained handkerchief out in front of him. ‘As for you, I can only assume that you’re a figment of my imagination caused by the blow to my head.’

‘Oh, dear.’ A horrified expression crossed her face. ‘Sorry about that. I really thought you were a burglar.’

‘Quite understandable.’ He lifted his shoulders, conceding that it was, in fact, entirely understandable since he hadn’t sent any advance notice of his arrival. There hadn’t seemed much point when he could travel in person just as fast as a letter, but then he hadn’t reckoned on his coach’s late arrival. That had struck him as somewhat unfortunate, coinciding as it did with the middle of the night, but he’d assumed that he could simply let himself in, sleep in the armchair by the hearth and wait to surprise his sister in the morning. What he hadn’t expected was to trip over half the kitchen furniture and wake anyone else up.

‘My name’s Henrietta Gardiner.’ The woman placed the tongs and shovel down by the hearth and clasped her hands together primly in front of her.

‘Delighted to meet you, even under the circumstances.’ He suppressed a smile at the primness. There was something charmingly incongruous about it when she was standing in front of him wearing nothing more than a white nightgown, particularly one that, whilst not exactly sheer, did only a partial job of concealing the luscious curves beneath. He allowed himself a few seconds of appreciation before pulling his gaze reluctantly back to her face. ‘So, Miss Gardiner, has my sister employed you to guard the shop against night-time marauders?’

‘Not exactly. I’m the new manager.’

‘Manager?’ He forgot instantly about the nightgown, seized with a rush of panic. ‘Why is Anna employing a manager?’

‘Because she’s—’ She stopped mid-sentence, regarding 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?’ He took a step forward impatiently. ‘Is she all right? Has something happened to our mother?’

‘Oh, no, everything’s all right. They’re both perfectly well, only—’ She stopped for a second time, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth in a way that made him acutely conscious of her nightgown again. ‘I think I’d better put the kettle on. Are you hungry? There are some leftover biscuits somewhere.’

‘You mean Belles?’ He pulled a chair out and settled himself down at the table, feeling relieved by her assurances. The thought of one of his family’s famous biscuits was comforting, too, telling him he was finally home at last. ‘I can’t remember the last time I had one of those. I hope Anna hasn’t been messing around with the recipe.’

There was a conspicuous pause before Miss Gardiner answered, a glint of amusement in her eye as she deposited a plate of biscuits on the table in front of him. ‘You might be surprised by what Anna has done. Welcome home, Mr Fortini, we have a lot to talk about.’

* * *

‘Let me get this straight. My sister—my sister Anna—who despises the aristocracy and everything they stand for, married an earl and now she’s a countess?’

Sebastian wasn’t sure how many times he’d repeated the question—or repeated the same combination of words in a variety of different ways. He’d started off with the vague idea that if he kept on repeating them, then they might start to make sense, but the tactic seemed to be having the opposite effect. Everything that he’d heard over the past half an hour was so bewildering and unbelievable that he was seriously wondering whether he ought to consult a doctor about the blow to his head, after all.

‘I know it’s a lot to take in and it sounds far-fetched, but I assure you it’s all true, Mr Fortini.’

Miss Gardiner was regarding him across the table with an expression of tolerant sympathy, her delectable figure now modestly hidden beneath a green woollen dressing gown, more was the pity. She struck him as somewhat unbelievable, too, and not just because he’d been living among men for so long. If he’d tried, he could hardly have dreamt up a more exquisite-looking specimen of femininity, although, considering the circumstances, she surely had to be real. If she were a figment of his imagination, then they’d be doing a lot more than drinking tea and eating biscuits at midnight. They’d be on the same side of the table for a start, if not on top of it, and she wouldn’t be wearing that dressing gown either. Not to mention that he’d be far more intimately acquainted with those ankles...

‘But a countess?’ He dragged his mind back to the subject in hand.

‘Of Staunton, yes.’ In addition to her more obvious attractions, Miss Gardiner appeared to have limitless amounts of patience. ‘They held the wedding here in Bath six months ago. I was a witness.’

‘You were?’ He leaned forward. ‘Tell me, how did Anna seem?’

‘Very happy.’

‘Are you certain? Forgive me, but I know how Anna feels about the aristocracy. She detests the whole lot of them. Are you sure she wasn’t coerced into anything?’

‘Coerced?’ Miss Gardiner looked baffled. ‘I believe that she had mixed feelings at first, but I’ve never heard of a shopkeeper being coerced to marry an earl.’

‘No, but perhaps there was some compelling reason...?’

She stared at him blankly for a few seconds before emitting a high-pitched squeak of indignation. ‘Absolutely not!’

‘What about financial reasons, then?’ Sebastian wasn’t prepared to let the subject drop so easily. ‘Perhaps she felt she

needed the security?’

‘Anna would never have married for money!’ Miss Gardiner pushed her chair back, apparently on the verge of storming away. ‘Or for any reason except affection and respect! It’s insulting that you would even suggest such a thing!’