Unexpectedly Wed to the Officer--A Historical Romance Award Winning Author

by Jenni Fletcher

  ‘You mean to drink?’ The dimple disappeared as two spots of colour blazed across her cheekbones. ‘I’m afraid we don’t have anything like that.’

  ‘Not even some port? There always used to be a bottle tucked away on the top shelf in the pantry.’

  ‘Ye-es.’ Her gaze flickered to one side. ‘There was a bottle, only I took it down a few months ago. I believe I might have poured it away.’

  ‘You poured it away?’ He dropped his chair back to the floor in surprise. She was looking curiously guilty, too, although, considering her healthy complexion, he found it difficult to believe that she was a hardened port-drinker or anything-drinker. Probably the opposite was true and she disapproved of alcohol entirely, which given his current desire for a drink was more than a little unfortunate. Still, since it couldn’t be helped... ‘Never mind. I can see that you’ve made quite a few changes.’

  ‘Yes. Anna said that I could do whatever I liked and I thought that the dresser—’

  ‘It wasn’t a criticism, Miss Gardiner,’ he interrupted as her spine stiffened defensively. ‘Just an observation. Now that I look at it, I wonder why my mother never thought to put the dresser over there herself. It makes the whole kitchen look bigger.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ She looked pleased, the vivid red of her cheeks fading to a dusky and extremely fetching shade of pink. ‘And with the table here, we can see through to the shop when we’re baking.’

  ‘We? You have an assistant, I presume.’

  ‘Nancy, yes. She was a kitchen maid, but the Earl’s grandmother sent her to help with the baking for a while and she liked the work so much that she stayed. Now she lives here, too.’

  ‘She’s a deep sleeper, I take it?’

  ‘Very.’ The dimple made a fresh appearance. ‘And she hates to be disturbed. That’s why I didn’t wake her tonight. I thought perhaps I was just imagining noises down here.’

  ‘I’m relieved that you didn’t wake her.’ He lifted a finger to his nose and pushed it tentatively from side to side. ‘You’re quite ferocious enough on your own.’

  ‘Oh, dear. Do you really think that it’s broken?’

  ‘Probably.’ He felt a twinge of guilt at her contrite expression. ‘But not to worry. It’s not the first time and I doubt it will be the last. I actually forget how my face looked originally. For all we know, this might be an improvement.’

  She gave a low, throaty laugh and then leaned across the table suddenly, her eyes alight with curiosity. ‘Did you break it before in the navy? Anna said that you were a lieutenant.’

  ‘Only acting lieutenant, I’m afraid. I was promoted by my captain, not the Admiralty, and I never got an opportunity to sit any exams. Now, thanks to Trafalgar, the navy has a surplus of officers so I’ve been discharged from duty. Not that I’m complaining about our victory, but it might have been easier to swallow if I’d actually been there instead of...’ He bit his tongue. ‘In any case, I’m back.’

  ‘So you’re not going back to sea?’

  He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. It was a good question. He’d finally come home to help Anna run Belles, but apparently that ship had sailed, too. He wasn’t needed here any more than he was in the navy. Which was ironic considering how guilty he’d felt about being away over the past few years. Now it appeared he was a completely free man. Free from family obligations, naval orders and commitments. It was a strange, somewhat exuberant feeling. He could do anything he wanted, go anywhere he wanted. He was still only in his early twenties, young enough to find another career. He could...

  ‘Mr Fortini?’

  He started. ‘Forgive me, I was just thinking. To be honest, I’ve no idea what I’ll do yet. Maybe I’ll just enjoy my freedom for a while.’

  ‘Anna and your mother will be thrilled to see you again. They’ve been so worried. The Earl even went to the Admiralty to ask about your ship.’

  ‘Really?’ Sebastian had to make a conscious effort not to clench his jaw at the words. If that were the case, then it was possible his new brother-in-law already knew what had happened to the Menelaus. The question was whether or not he would have told Anna. He hoped not, and fortunately Miss Gardiner seemed to have no idea...

  ‘I’m afraid there was no way for me to send word any earlier.’ He shifted forward in his chair, splaying both of his hands out on the table in what he hoped was a masterful way of steering the conversation. ‘But I’m here now. Only it appears that I’ve come to the wrong place.’

  ‘Not wrong. It’s still your family’s shop. They’re just...’

  ‘Not here?’

  ‘No.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘I’m afraid not.’

  Their gazes locked across the table and he found himself instinctively smiling back. Her eyes were a luminous and vibrant blue, he noticed, as clear and enticing as the tropical seas he’d seen on the other side of the world, like warm pools he might willingly dive into. Something about them made him completely forget what they were talking about. If he hadn’t known better, he would actually have thought they had some kind of hypnotising effect... He couldn’t take his own off them.

  ‘More tea?’ She broke the spell, reaching for the teapot. ‘I think there’s a little left.’

  ‘No, thank you.’ He stood up, suddenly aware of the impropriety of their situation and wondering if her eyes weren’t perhaps a little too enticing for their own good. ‘I ought to be on my way.’

  ‘You’re leaving?’ She looked startled. ‘But it’s the middle of the night!’

  ‘True, but under the circumstances I can hardly stay here. It wouldn’t be proper, or so my mother would tell me anyway.’

  ‘No, I suppose not.’ A series of expressions passed over her face before settling into one of resolve. ‘But I can’t possibly throw you out into the cold. Belles belongs to your family, which makes it your home even more than it is mine.’

  ‘Miss Gardiner...’

  ‘I admit that the circumstances aren’t ideal...’ she spoke over him ‘...but it’s not as if Nancy and I are ladies. Nobody cares what we do. There’s really only the shop’s reputation to think about, but as long as we smuggle you out discreetly in the morning, then who’s to know you were ever here?’

  ‘I still don’t think...’

  ‘But I insist.’ Her chin jutted upwards mutinously. ‘Most decent establishments will be closed at this time of night and, even if they aren’t, it’s likely to be freezing outside. Improper or not, I’d never be able to look Anna in the face again if anything happened to you. No, Mr Fortini, I simply cannot allow you to leave, not when there’s a perfectly serviceable sofa in the parlour.’

  ‘The green one? I remember.’

  ‘Good. Because I’m putting my foot down.’

  ‘So I see.’ He rubbed a hand over his chin, recalling his earlier glimpse of ankle and feeling rather impressed by her speech. It seemed a shame to gainsay her after all that—besides, who was he to argue when a beautiful woman insisted that he stay for the night? Even if it wasn’t quite in the way he might have preferred. An image of lithe female limbs wrapped around his own floated into his mind... He didn’t want to think about how long it had been since that had last happened...or since he’d done anything with a woman for that matter. No wonder he was fantasising about ankles!

  ‘Well then...’ He cleared his throat huskily. ‘I appreciate your hospitality, Miss Gardiner.’

  ‘You do?’ She looked vaguely surprised by her own success. ‘I mean, good. I’ll go and fetch some blankets and meet you in the parlour in a few minutes.’

  ‘I’ll see you there.’

  Sebastian watched her go, dropping back into his chair to take stock of the events of the night. His nose was possibly broken, there were going to be bruises on sensitive areas of his body, he was no closer to being reunited with his family and he was about to sleep on a sofa that,
if memory served, was a good foot too short to be comfortable. He ought to be wishing he’d stayed in Plymouth. Instead, he felt quite unexpectedly happy.

  It must be the shop, he reasoned in bewilderment. Only that could explain this powerful, strangely profound sense of being home.

  Chapter Two

  The scream cut through the silence of the early morning like a knife. Not a blunt butter knife either, more of a bloodthirsty dagger, piercing Henrietta’s eardrums and bringing her back to consciousness with a start.

  Heart thumping, she flung her quilt aside and leapt out of bed, remembering to grab her dressing gown this time as she sprinted out of her small attic room and down the stairs. After making up a bed on the sofa for Mr Fortini, she’d returned to her own, confident in her ability to wake up early enough to tell Nancy what had happened during the night, not to mention who to expect in the parlour, but her nocturnal adventure had obviously caused her to oversleep. Now the muffled exclamations and thuds coming from below made it sound as though a wildcat had been let loose in the parlour, which she had to admit was a pretty accurate description of her flaming-haired, flaming-tempered assistant.

  ‘Stop!’ She burst into the parlour just in time to snatch a vase out of Nancy’s hands and prevent her from hurling it like a missile across the room. ‘He’s a guest!’

  ‘What?’ Nancy spun around indignantly, still looking ready to do battle with her fists.

  ‘A guest! This is Mr Fortini, Anna’s brother. He arrived in the middle of the night and I said he could sleep here.’ Henrietta looked around the parlour with dismay. The sofa was lying on its side, there were books and ornaments strewn everywhere and a porcelain figurine of a cat was balancing precariously on the edge of a coffee table. ‘He didn’t know that Anna and his mother have moved out.’

  ‘How could he not know that?’

  ‘Because he’s been at sea and he never received any of their letters!’

  ‘Oh.’ The fiery light in Nancy’s eyes dimmed slightly. ‘Well, how was I supposed to know that?’

  ‘You weren’t.’ Henrietta sighed. ‘I was going to tell you when I woke up, but I slept longer than I expected and... Mr Fortini?’

  She looked across the room to where the object of Nancy’s wrath was bending over, hands pressed against his knees, apparently struggling and failing to contain a burgeoning sense of mirth. He was also, she noticed with a quickly stifled gasp, in a state of considerable undress. Thankfully, he was still wearing breeches, but his jacket, waistcoat and cravat were all neatly folded to one side, while his plain white shirt was unbuttoned and gaping open to reveal an expanse of broad and muscular chest, liberally sprinkled with hair the same midnight shade as the dishevelled and curly locks on his head.

  ‘Are you laughing?’ She gaped at him in disbelief.

  ‘Just a little.’ He let out what could only be described as a guffaw.

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Why?’ It was several moments before he could answer with anything resembling calmness. ‘Because I’ve spent the past five years in His Majesty’s Navy and I’ve been attacked more in the past six hours than I have in almost the whole of that time. You two are more dangerous than the French.’

  ‘I should think so.’ Nancy folded her arms belligerently. ‘I could deal with Napoleon.’

  ‘I’m sure you’d be a worthy opponent. The Emperor wouldn’t stand a chance.’ Mr Fortini pushed himself upright and wiped his eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been tipped out of a bed before. Not even a hammock.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Henrietta winced. ‘I hope it didn’t hurt.’

  ‘Not too badly. Fortunately, I was distracted from the pain by the avalanche of books on my head.’

  ‘They were the first things that came to hand, but if you really are Anna’s brother then I’m sorry.’ Nancy slid the porcelain cat back to safety. ‘By the way, I think I might have damaged your nose.’

  ‘No, that was me.’ Henrietta shook her head miserably. ‘I hit him with a door in the night.’

  ‘Really?’ Nancy looked impressed.

  ‘Really,’ Mr Fortini confirmed. ‘She threatened to impale me with some tongs, too, though fortunately she relented. Altogether, it’s been a somewhat strange homecoming, but I’m delighted to meet you, Miss...?’

  ‘MacQueen. Nancy MacQueen.’

  ‘Sebastian Fortini, at your service.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Nancy gave him a long, interrogatory stare. ‘No hard feelings, then?’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘Good. In that case, I’d better go and get breakfast started. We won’t get the baking done on an empty stomach.’

  Henrietta shuffled her feet self-consciously as Nancy disappeared down the lower flight of stairs to the kitchen and shop floor. It felt strange to be alone with Mr Fortini again. To be alone with any man for that matter. She’d made a point of avoiding situations like this for the past eight months and yet she’d spent at least an hour in his company during the night without any anxiety at all. She’d felt instinctively comfortable with him, probably because he was Anna’s brother—so much that she’d actually asked him to stay! It seemed so unlike her, these days anyway, that if it hadn’t been for her rude awakening then she might have suspected him to have been part of some dream. The whole situation was bizarre, but he looked too large and robust to be anything but real. Not to mention that there was an overturned sofa at his feet.

  ‘I really am sorry.’ She peered across at him sheepishly. ‘I’m usually the first one to wake up. It never occurred to me that I’d sleep longer.’

  ‘Since I was responsible for you being tired, I can hardly blame you for that.’ He lowered his voice conspiratorially. ‘Just promise there aren’t any more assailants lying in wait. I’m not sure my nerves could take it.’

  ‘I promise.’ She caught her breath as he leaned in towards her, one hand on his chest as if he were genuinely concerned about his nerves, which only drew her attention back to that part of his body, not to mention the row of powerful-looking stomach muscles underneath... Quickly, she lifted her gaze to his face, though that was hardly much better. He looked rugged and rumpled and, well, bruised, with a masculine appeal that went beyond merely handsome, not to mention a roguish glint in his eye that made her feel as if she’d just been running. Which to be fair, she had down the stairs, but that had been several minutes ago.

  ‘Well then...’ She bent down, grasping one end of the overturned sofa in an attempt to hide her face while she got her breath back. The whole parlour seemed somehow smaller and airless with him in it. ‘Perhaps you’d like to sleep some more? We’ll try not to make too much noise in the kitchen.’

  ‘Allow me.’ He flipped the sofa over as if it were just a piece of toy furniture. ‘No, I’ll get up now, too. I should probably be going before your neighbours arrive to see what all the commotion was about.’

  ‘If anyone asks, I’ll tell them a cat got into the house.’ She gathered up the books and stacked them back on the shelves, struck with a combination of relief and regret at the thought of him leaving. It seemed impossible to decide which was dominant. There was something both appealing and unsettling about him, something about his bare chest and playful, slightly lopsided smile that caused a peculiar fluttering sensation in her stomach. She wasn’t sure whether she liked that either, but surely good manners compelled her to offer him some refreshment?

  ‘Would you care for some breakfast before you go?’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. ‘It’s the least we can do after attacking you twice in one night.’

  ‘That’s a good point.’ He smiled in a way that made her heart perform a somersault in her chest and her head instantly regret the offer. ‘I’d be delighted, Miss Gardiner.’

  * * *

  ‘I didn’t think I had a choice, especially after I hit his nose,’ Henrietta explained to he
r assistant ten minutes later. ‘He needed somewhere to sleep and this is his family’s shop.’

  ‘Did he demand to stay?’ Nancy looked suspicious again.

  ‘No-o. He was going to leave actually, but I offered to make up the sofa.’ She reached for a piece of toast and smeared butter across it. ‘Do you think I shouldn’t have?’

  ‘Not necessarily, but did you ask him for any proof?’

  ‘Proof of what?’

  ‘That he’s who he says he is.’ Nancy lifted her eyes to the ceiling. ‘He doesn’t look much like Anna, except for dark curly hair and brown eyes, but a lot of people have those.’

  ‘He has a similar way of speaking, too, and his lips are exactly the same shape as Anna’s.’

  ‘You’ve obviously been paying more attention than I have.’ Nancy gave her a quizzical look. ‘I can’t say I’ve looked that closely at his lips.’

  ‘Neither have I.’ Henrietta felt a wash of colour spread over her cheeks. ‘I just think they look similar, that’s all...’

  She applied another, unnecessary layer of butter to her toast. Now that the shock of the night and that morning had worn off, she was starting to think that perhaps she had been somewhat foolish in encouraging Mr Fortini to stay. Even if he was Anna’s brother, which she was inclined to believe he was—either that or a very convincing impostor—who was to say that he was the kind of man she ought to have let stay under the same roof? Neither Anna nor her mother had ever told her anything untoward about him, but then he’d been away at sea for five years! If there was anything bad, they might not have known about it. And it had never even occurred to her to ask for proof of his identity! Instead, she’d been so taken aback by his arrival that she’d let her guard down and gone back to her old ways. She’d been too trusting. Too stupid. Too naive. More unworldly than ever. Good grief, even he’d thought that his staying was a bad idea! What must he think of her now, especially after the way she’d been staring at his chest that morning? What if she’d given him the wrong idea about her and her motives for inviting him to stay? What if he thought—?