style="font-size:15px;"> ‘You don’t need me to be here, too. You and the termagant can squabble over the girl together.’
‘Don’t you believe it. If it’s just me then she’ll plant herself between the two of us and I won’t get a word, let alone anything else, in edgewise. You can just tell she’s the sort who wants to stop everyone else having fun because she’s an old maid.’
‘She’s hardly an old maid.’
Ralph made a snorting sound. ‘I doubt she’s ever had a day’s excitement in her whole life.’
‘Leave her alone.’
‘Why? Do you like her?’ His old friend draped one leg over the other and regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Well, she’s attractive enough, I suppose. If I wasn’t so smitten with my nymph, then I might have considered her for myself. After all, her name’s practically famous in Bath. She’d be quite a conquest.’
Samuel stopped pacing abruptly. Attractive enough wasn’t exactly the phrase he would have chosen to use. Exceedingly pretty was more like it, with porcelain skin, a stubborn chin and eyes dark and deep enough for a man to drown in, which given his nautical background was a dangerous metaphor indeed. They’d turned out to be an even darker brown than he’d expected, only a shade away from black, and sharper than Ralph had given her credit for. She’d known perfectly well what they’d been up to from the moment they’d entered the shop, her hackles well and truly raised from the start. He certainly hadn’t deceived or charmed her.
Truth be told, the experience had been somewhat galling. He’d never been much of a lady’s man, but he’d flattered himself that he still possessed a reasonable degree of charm, on the rare occasions he chose to display it, that was. He’d favoured Miss Fortini with his most dashing smile and she hadn’t been swayed for a second. Teasing hadn’t worked, either. She’d given as good as she’d got and more, rebuffing his advances with flashing eyes and a dry wit that had amused him considerably. Her protective attitude towards her assistant had impressed him, too. Her concern for the girl was both laudable and touching, making him feel even guiltier by contrast. She certainly deserved better than to have to spend her time guarding against men like Ralph. It was no wonder she behaved like a termagant. Which she wasn’t.
‘What do you mean, famous?’ he asked finally.
‘Mmm?’ Ralph paused in the inspection of his fingernails. ‘Oh, she’s Belle. The Belle. Annabelle Fortini.’
‘Annabelle.’ He felt inordinately pleased to discover her first name at last. ‘But aren’t the biscuits called Belles?’
‘Yes,’ Ralph yawned, ‘but they were named after her. The whole shop was, in fact. Her parents set up the place just after she was born, so Henrietta says, and they named both it and the merchandise after their baby daughter. It’s ironic really, such a sweet name for such a shrew.’
Samuel folded his arms, choosing to ignore the last comment. ‘What happened to her parents?’
‘Oh, the father died a few years ago, but the mother’s still around. She doesn’t work any more, something to do with ill health apparently, but she’s even more famous than the daughter. Notorious, actually.’
‘I don’t listen to gossip, Ralph.’
‘It’s not gossip, it’s fact. Do you remember the old Duke of Messi—?’
He was prevented from saying any more by the appearance of the ladies themselves, walking with varying degrees of enthusiasm along the footpath towards them. They were still dressed in their shop clothes, in matching yellow empire-line dresses, though now they both wore bonnets and shawls, too. The nymph’s headwear was pink, bringing out the slight strawberry tint of her hair, while Miss Fortini’s was light brown, contrasting with her dark curls to give her a coffee-and-cream appearance. Damn it if he didn’t crave a cup at that moment...
The younger woman walked straight up to Ralph with a small skip in her step, taking his arm with an enthusiastic smile. Too enthusiastic, Samuel thought privately, and certainly too trusting. Her yellow dress and hair gave her the appearance of a daffodil, her golden beauty blending in perfectly with the spring foliage around them. It gave him a twinge of unease. Such innocence could so easily be stamped on by the wrong kind of person. In natural daylight, moreover, she looked even younger and more vulnerable than she had in the shop, making him wish that he’d challenged Ralph on his intentions more thoroughly.
‘Shall we?’ He offered an arm to Miss Fortini, but she ignored it, sparing him only a cursory glance before starting along the path on her own.
‘So your name is Belle?’ he tried asking again, lengthening his stride to catch up with her quick pace.
‘Annabelle.’ She gave him a sharp look. ‘Although, as I believe I mentioned earlier, my customers call me Miss Fortini.’
‘Forgive me, I didn’t intend to be over-familiar, but I only just discovered that you’re the original Bath Belle.’
If he wasn’t mistaken, she gave a soft sigh. ‘For what it’s worth, yes, I am, or at least my parents presented us both to the world around the same time. It’s actually short for Annabelle Claudia Teresa Fortini, but I prefer Anna.’ She glanced sideways at him, the evening sunlight bathing her face in a reddish-gold glow. ‘So now you know all of my names, which is a great deal more than I can say about you and yours. Do you make a habit of being mysterious, sir, or am I simply not important enough to warrant an introduction?’
‘Ah, forgive me again.’ He drew his brows together in consternation, belatedly realising that she was right. Despite asking for her name, he hadn’t mentioned his own at all. ‘Captain Samuel Delaney at your service.’
‘Captain Delaney?’ Her footsteps faltered and then stopped, her prickly manner disappearing at once. ‘You’re a captain? In the army or navy?’
‘Navy.’
‘But you’re not in uniform.’
‘No.’ He flinched at the reminder. ‘I’m trying to accustom myself to not wearing it.’
‘Are you on shore leave?’
‘Something like that.’ He shrugged as she continued to regard him inquisitively. ‘I sustained an injury during a recent skirmish and the Admiralty has no more need of me at present. I don’t know when, or whether, I’ll be able to return to active service.’
‘It must have been serious.’ Her dark eyes swept over him as if she were searching for evidence of a wound.
‘Shrapnel.’ He touched a hand to his collarbone, his lips twitching with amusement. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been inspected so thoroughly, especially by a woman. ‘But it’s mostly healed.’
‘I’m glad.’ She dug her top teeth into her bottom lip, a small frown puckering her brow as if she were considering telling him something. ‘My brother, Sebastian, is in the navy,’ she said finally.
‘Indeed?’ He felt strangely honoured by the confidence. ‘What vessel?’
‘The Menelaus. He’s a lieutenant.’
‘That’s a good ship.
