‘Sebastian said something similar in one of his letters. He said it was like having a second family.’
‘That’s true. At sea, we all depend on each other for survival. You have to rely on your men to do what they’ve been trained for.’
‘Did the fighting really last three hours?’
‘It did, then the weather that night nearly finished us off. We were in a poor enough state after the battle, but the storm was even worse. Many of us spent the night on deck, waiting to see if we’d be scuppered on the rocks. A number of ships didn’t make it to morning.’
‘And you’d lost your commander.’
‘Yes.’ He clenched his jaw at the memory. ‘During the battle, Nelson refused to go below deck for safety. He wanted to fight alongside us and he said the men needed to see him. Unfortunately a French sharpshooter in the rigging of the Redoubtable saw him, too. The musket ball entered his left shoulder.’
‘It was a great loss.’
‘It was. I remember when we got word of what had happened. The whole fleet fell silent. We’d won, but it felt like defeat.’
‘Maybe all battles feel like that in the end.’ She sounded pensive as they emerged out of the trees and on to a wide pathway leading up to a stone pavilion. ‘It all seems like such a terrible waste.’
‘It was. Thousands of men died that day. The waves were red with...’ He stopped mid-sentence. ‘My apologies. I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Why not? Because I’m a woman?’ She gave him a pointed look. ‘There’s no need to apologise, Captain Delaney. I like to be told the truth, not be sheltered from it. I appreciate your honesty and...’ she hesitated and then stopped walking again, folding her hands tightly in front of her ‘...if you were to hear any news of my brother’s ship, good or bad, I would appreciate hearing about that, too.’
‘Very well. If I hear anything, I’ll be sure to inform you.’
‘Thank you.’ She cleared her throat, turning her head to watch a squirrel as it ran about on the lawn beside them. ‘I believe I owe you an apology, Captain.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘But I do,’ she interrupted him firmly. ‘I behaved rudely towards you earlier. I made certain assumptions about your character, but I was mistaken. I had no idea what kind of a man you really were.’
What kind of a man...? Samuel froze, struck with a fresh pang of guilt. ‘I’m not sure I understand you, Miss Fortini.’
She made an apologetic face. ‘When you came into my shop earlier I assumed that you were just another bored, indolent member of the aristocracy with too much time on his hands. I didn’t believe that you were really there to buy biscuits for your grandmother. I thought that you had an ulterior motive. Now I know I misjudged you. You’re a gentleman who also works for his living, a man of purpose and honour and bravery.’
‘Ah.’ Samuel rubbed a hand around the back of his neck. Under other circumstances he might have been pleased by such a heroic portrait, but it was hard to swallow when she’d been right the first time. His earlier behaviour had been decidedly unheroic.
‘You don’t like the aristocracy, Miss Fortini?’ He decided to focus on a different part of her speech.
Black lashes fanned over her cheeks as she dipped her gaze evasively. ‘I’m sure there are some perfectly fine examples of gentlemen among the upper classes, but in my experience not many. Take your friend.’ Her lip curled with distaste as she glanced towards Ralph. ‘His sole purpose in life at the moment seems to be the pursuit of my friend.’
‘I thought she was your employee?’
‘Can’t she be both?’ Her gaze shot back to his. ‘Sir, you accused me of being direct earlier so I won’t mince words. I believe that we both know what he wants from her, and that when—if—he gets it, he’ll abandon her as he already has countless others, I’m sure. I’ve lived in Bath my whole life and I’ve seen it happen more times than I can remember. Gentlemen may visit for the Pump Rooms, but they find other ways to pass their time and they see women like us as fair game. That’s the reason your friend feels entitled to call into my shop whenever he feels like it without buying anything, why he thinks it acceptable to ask Henrietta to walk without a chaperon, too. He would never behave in such a way with a lady.
‘Well, she is not fair game, Captain. She’s eighteen years old and far too sweet-natured to understand what he really wants and, if you’re truly a man of honour as I believe you to be, I beg you to dissuade him from pursuing her.’ She took a step forward and placed a hand on his arm, her tone entreating as her fingers curled gently around his wrist. ‘No good can come of it.’
Samuel listened in silence. By the end of her speech she was flushed and breathless and he was feeling somewhat mortified, not by her bluntness, but by the truth behind it. Every word she’d just spoken filled him with shame, the touch of her hand on his arm like a burning hot iron. Every word was true, too, except for the part when she’d called him a man of honour. An honourable man would never have entered the shop and helped Ralph in the first place. An honourable man would have turned around and walked away. Which meant that all he could do now was try to put things right and behave like the man she thought him to be. Her impassioned speech and those soulful dark eyes made him want to be heroic again. Nearly as much as they made him want to kiss her, too. Quite suddenly and unexpectedly, right there in the middle of the park, in a way that definitely wouldn’t improve her opinion of gentlemen...
‘You look tired, Miss Fortini.’ He pulled his arm away before he could do something he might regret. Now that they were standing so close he could see her face clearly and in truth she looked a stage beyond tired. She looked exhausted, her brown eyes ringed with dark shadows that made them appear even bigger. ‘You ought to go home and rest.’
‘Didn’t you hear me, Captain?’ She sounded dismayed.
‘I did.’ A new suspicion occurred to him. ‘I wondered if you were speaking from personal experience?’
She took a step backwards as if he’d just threatened her, her face blanching visibly. ‘What difference would it make if I was?’
He clamped his brows together. She was right. Her past experiences, whatever they were, made no difference at all to their current situation. As much as he wanted to know the answer, it was none of his business.
‘Tell me, then...’ he said, swallowing a different question ‘...does your friend usually walk home on her own at this time of evening?’
‘Yes.’ Her expression was guarded now. ‘Although one of her brothers usually meets her on Pulteney Bridge.’
‘Good. In that case, give me five minutes and I’ll remember an urgent reason for myself and Mr Hoxley to be elsewhere. You have my word as a naval officer and...’ he paused, resisting the urge to grimace ‘...a gentleman. If you’ll trust me, that is, Miss Fortini?’
She didn’t answer at first, holding on to his gaze for a few intense moments, her expression turning gradually from indecision to conviction to something that made his pulse start to accelerate.
‘Thank you, Captain Delaney,’ she said, nodding finally. ‘I believe that I do trust you. Five minutes, then.’ She dipped into a curtsy. ‘And the next time your grandmother would like some biscuits, I’d be more than happy to deliver a tin myself.’
‘I’ll be sure to tell her.’ He made a formal bow, but she was already turning away, waving a