An Unconventional Countess. Jenni Fletcher
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‘This is the third time this week.’
‘Maybe we can persuade him to actually buy something this time,’ Anna muttered, pushing her own very real stray hairs out of her face and wondering if she had time to carry a bucket of cold water up to the first-floor window and deposit it over the admirers below. Alas, she suspected not. In fact, she was quite certain the front door would open again the very moment she left the room and she had absolutely no intention of leaving Henrietta on her own. Tempted as she was to believe that her shop’s recent popularity with the young male population of Bath was entirely due to her baking, she was well aware that it had far more to do with her new and attractive assistant. Barely a day went by when she didn’t have to chase some lovesick swain or other off the premises, but this particular suitor was proving more persistent than the others. He was becoming an irritation.
‘There’s another gentleman with him this time,’ Henrietta murmured, coming to stand close beside her.
‘So I noticed. Another of your admirers, no doubt.’
‘Actually, he’s looking at you. Quite intently, too.’ Henrietta giggled. ‘He’s very handsome. I wonder who he is.’
‘If he’s anything like his companion, then I don’t care. They look like gentlemen.’
‘You always say that like it’s a bad thing. What do you have against gentlemen anyway?’
‘Plenty! And no giving biscuits away this time. Those samples are for customers, not—stop it!’ Anna looked around sharply, making a grab for her assistant’s arm as she started to wave. ‘You shouldn’t encourage them.’
‘Why not? It’s just a bit of fun. There’s no harm in that, is there?’
‘It depends on what kind of fun you both have in mind. I very much doubt it’s the same thing. Honestly, didn’t you learn anything from your last employment?’
The hurt expression on the girl’s face made Anna regret the words instantly. Henrietta had lost her position in a dressmaker’s shop after her employer’s son had formed a passionate, but unrequited, attachment towards her. She hadn’t done anything to encourage him, Henrietta had assured Anna when she’d first applied for the position as her assistant, only she was afraid that she might have acted naively by not immediately rebuffing his attentions, but then she hadn’t wanted to be rude, either... The inevitable result was that she’d been dismissed without references.
‘I’m sorry.’ Anna winced. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘I know.’ One of Henrietta’s most endearing qualities was her ability to forgive and forget. ‘And I’m sorry for waving, but I was only being friendly. You don’t think I’d be silly enough to fall for a gentleman, do you?’
Anna dropped her gaze to the biscuit samples set out on a plate in front of her. Yes, she thought silently. Yes, she did think that Henrietta was capable of having her head turned by an aristocratic appearance and a few charming compliments, but she didn’t want to say the words out loud. Over the past couple of months she’d become genuinely fond of the girl. She was certainly a far livelier companion than Mrs Padgett, her dour and disapproving predecessor. No one had ever come into the shop to see her. All in all, Henrietta’s hard-working and sunny disposition would have made her the perfect employee if it hadn’t been for her propensity to be friendly with every man who as much as glanced in her direction—and men were always glancing in her direction. To be fair, it would have been hard for someone so pretty not to attract male attention—Anna only hoped it wouldn’t lead her into doing something foolish one day.
‘Just remember that no matter how honourable they might seem, gentlemen like that don’t regard women like us as ladies.’ She threw another venomous glare in the direction of the window. ‘They won’t treat us like ones, either.’
‘How can you be so cynical?’ Henrietta made a tsking sound. ‘Sometimes a gentleman really is a gentleman.’
‘But most of the time he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.’
‘Good gracious, anyone would think...’
Henrietta bit her lip, leaving whatever anyone would think unspoken as the bell above the shop door jingled again and the two men entered finally.
‘Perhaps you could finish the window display, Henrietta?’ Anna gave her assistant a none-too-subtle nudge in the ribs. ‘While I deal with these customers.’ Then she lifted her chin, bracing both of her hands on the countertop before putting on her brightest, most insincere smile. ‘How may I help you, gentlemen?’
‘Good afternoon.’ The first man, the irritant, faltered mid-step, a lock of blond hair flopping across his face as his gaze followed Henrietta. ‘My friend and I were just strolling past when we had a sudden craving for chocolate.’
‘Oh, what a shame.’ Anna heaved an exaggerated sigh. ‘Unfortunately we don’t work with chocolate, which you might have known had you asked about our merchandise on one of your previous visits. We sell biscuits, just biscuits. Perhaps you might try the shop on...’
‘But I adore biscuits even more!’ The man grinned, exposing a row of dazzlingly white teeth. Definitely a wolf. ‘Perhaps your lovely assistant here might recommend something special?’
‘I’m perfectly capable of recommending—’
‘I’d like one of the big tins,’ the other man interrupted before she could finish, addressing her in an amused-sounding baritone that none the less carried a distinct note of command. ‘If it’s not too much trouble?’
Anna turned her head to glower and then felt her stomach perform a strange kind of bouncing manoeuvre instead. She’d been so focused on the irritant that she’d barely spared a glance for his companion, though now she seemed unable to look away again. Henrietta was right, he was very handsome and yet a mass of contradictions, too, with hair the colour of mahogany and eyes so silvery pale they resembled icebergs. He might have looked austere if it hadn’t been for his athletic build and a rugged aspect that seemed at odds with his finely cut and, she couldn’t help but notice, perfectly tailored tailcoat, midnight-blue waistcoat and crisp white shirt. His face was lean and tanned, too, somewhat surprisingly for Somerset in March, yet despite his youthful appearance—surely he couldn’t be any more than thirty?—there was already a web of fine lines around his eyes that crinkled when he smiled. Just as he was doing now, she realised, making her cheeks flush and her stomach bounce all over again.
‘Trouble?’ she repeated the word, trying to focus on what he’d just said. ‘Of course not. If it were trouble, then I’d be in the wrong profession, sir. Just allow me a moment to fetch one.’
She turned to climb a set of steps set against the shelves, glad to avert her face for a few moments while she berated herself, or more precisely her body, for its own foolish reaction. He was a gentleman! Albeit a handsome one and in an attractively ungentlemanly sort of way, far less foppish than his friend and with an air of self-possession and authority that surely accounted for all the stomach bouncing, but still a gentleman, and hadn’t she just been warning Henrietta about those? Besides, he could hardly have made his purpose there any more obvious if he’d had it printed across his forehead. He was a decoy, enlisted to divert her attention while his companion tried to seduce her assistant. Well, if he thought he could outwit or charm her so easily, then he could think again!
She reached for the nearest tin and started back down the steps, throwing a surreptitious glance towards the window as she descended. As expected, Henrietta was already deep in conversation with the first man, who was standing far too close for decency. Both details meant that she had to hurry.
‘Here you are.’ She deposited the rectangular-shaped tin in front of him with a clatter. ‘It contains an assortment of biscuits, sixteen in total, each individually wrapped in tissue paper.’
‘Just sixteen?’ Her customer rested one forearm on top of the counter, regarding