Jenni Fletcher

An Unconventional Countess


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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. I know Captain Marlow well.’

      ‘You do?’ Her brown eyes widened with enthusiasm, riveting on his face so intently that she didn’t even notice when Ralph touched a hand to her assistant’s cheek up ahead. ‘Is he a good man?’

      ‘Very. We served together on the Asia six years ago when we were both lieutenants. He can make buttons out of cheese and he doesn’t like fish.’

      ‘Fish?’ She blinked. ‘You mean to eat?’

      ‘To do anything with, I imagine. Other than that, he’s a fair man with an uncanny ability to sense bad weather. Your brother couldn’t ask for a better captain.’

      ‘Thank you. I appreciate your saying so.’ For the first time since they’d met her smile didn’t contain the faintest hint of sarcasm. ‘You must be good, too, Captain Delaney. To reach such a high rank by the age of...’ she looked him up and down again ‘...thirty?’

      This time he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. ‘You’re very direct, Miss Fortini.’

      ‘Yes, I know.’ She seemed unperturbed by the comment. ‘It’s a failing of mine, I suppose, but the problem is that I can never understand why. If I could, then maybe I could do something about it, but as it is...’ she shrugged ‘... I like to get to the point. It was only an observation, however. I didn’t mean to offend you.’

      ‘I’m not remotely offended, although I’m afraid your observation is slightly out. I’m a weather-beaten twenty-six, but you’re correct about my rank. In peace time, it would have taken a great deal longer to gain such a promotion, but things work differently in war.’

      ‘I suppose so.’ She nodded sombrely as they started to walk again. ‘Do you enjoy it? Being a sailor, I mean?’

      ‘I do. I’ve always loved the water. Swimming, sailing, fishing, even looking at it, so the navy suits me. I like the routine on board ship, too. It can be tedious, but it gives me a sense of purpose and it’s calming.’

      ‘Do you often need calming?’ She gave him a quizzical look.

      ‘On a daily basis at the moment. I’ve been on shore for four months and it feels like an eternity. I’m afraid of losing my sea legs.’

      ‘Sebastian loves the navy, too, but I wish he might come home for a while. The last we heard his ship was somewhere off the coast of South America, but I’m afraid of another big sea battle.’

      ‘It’s extremely unlikely. Napoleon doesn’t have enough ships left to risk another naval assault and it’s doubtful he’d want to anyway. Trafalgar was the longest day of my life, but at least the victory was decisive.’

      ‘You were there?’ Her head spun towards him so quickly he almost jumped. ‘Is that where you were injured?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘You called it a skirmish!’

      ‘A big skirmish.’

      ‘A big...’ She stared at him with an expression of bewilderment mixed with curiosity. ‘I read that you were outnumbered. Thirty-three French and Spanish ships to twenty-seven British.’

      ‘That’s right. More than forty thousand men, all told.’

      ‘What was the name of your ship?’

      ‘The Colossus.’

      ‘But I’ve heard of that!’ Bewilderment turned to outright amazement. ‘It was in the middle of the action.’

      ‘Yes, unfortunately. Our yardarm locked with that of the Argonaute. We were trapped together for ten minutes before the sea swell drove us apart.’

      ‘And then the Swiftsure surrendered to you?’

      ‘Eventually, after we gave her a full broadside.’

      ‘And the Bahama. You destroyed her mainmast.’

      He lifted an eyebrow. ‘You know your sea battles, Miss Fortini.’

      ‘I don’t see why a woman shouldn’t read about such things as well as a man.’

      ‘Neither do I, especially when that woman has a brother in the navy. Ask me anything you like.’

      ‘All right.’ She paused as if to gather her thoughts. ‘What was the battle really like? The reports all make it sound so well ordered, but how do you stay in formation?’

      ‘With many hours of practice, although what Nelson did at Trafalgar hasn’t been done often before. Instead of the fleets facing each other, he divided ours into two columns. We cut through the enemy line instead of confronting them head on. It took them by surprise and gained us the advantage.’

      ‘Did you know you were winning?’

      He shook his head. ‘At close quarters, it’s hard to see anything that’s happening beyond your own ship. There are shards of timber and metal flying all around and you can’t hear because the boom of so many cannons drowns out everything except the ringing inside your own head. You’re aware of men shouting and screaming, but you can’t make out the words. Meanwhile, the smoke burns your lungs so that you can’t answer back, either. Most of the time, you’re just fighting to stay