“Well! You can be certain, Mr. Kerr, that you have not heard the last from me,” the baron huffed. Turning to Serafina, he said, in his previously obsequious voice, “Pardon the untimelyattempt at an introduction. I can only offer the excuse that I was so captivated by your beauty, Miss Davies, that good sense abandoned me. Perhaps I will see you tomorrow, under more pleasant circumstances.”
“I think not, my lord,” she said, repelled by his forward nature. “You should direct any future inquiries to my guardian, the Duke of Richmond,” she said, knowing her uncle would never allow this horrid man to court her.
“I intend to speak with your guardian, the Duke of Richmond. I am well acquainted with him, and I am certain he will welcome a meeting with me. I am confident that we shall meet again, my dear. In the very near future.” With that, he turned and gave a snide sneer to Julian, tipped his tall black hat, and stalked off in the direction of her guardian’s club.
A sick feeling lodged in the pit of her stomach. Good Lord. The very thought of ever seeing him again filled her with dread.
“Are you all right?” Julian asked her, concern lacing his voice. “I saw what appeared to be a man forcing his way into your shop. As I approached, I could hear Willow’s growls. Even with her injury, she never growled. I knew something was wrong.” He bent and gave Willow a gentle pat on the head. “You’re a brave girl, Willow, to protect your mistress.”
The dog wagged her tail and gave an energetic woof.
“I’m so glad you did.” Serafina couldn’t help but smile as Willow immediately licked Julian’s hand when he offered it. No barking, no growling—just enthusiastic little licks. The pup clearly adored him.
Yet she’d snarled at Baron Grimsby the moment he appeared, seeming to hate him on sight. Had the baron’s incessant pounding on the door set Willow off? Or was it something deeper—some ‘doggie intuition’ that recognized the same unsettling menace Serafina had felt?
Or could the dog sense that Serafina had been anxious, and that is why she barked and growled with such ferocity?
The hairson the back of Julian’s neck stood on end as he watched the man leave the shop. The puffed-up baron seemed quite sure that Serafina would welcome his courtship. But from her pale face, Julian knew the opposite was true. He wanted to follow that bastard and drag him into a dark alley. Perhaps he should have another conversation with the duke. He needed to alert her guardian to what had happened and the potential danger Serafina was placing herself in, going alone to her shop.
Julian had just spoken with her guardian at the club only that morning. After a rousing boxing match, Julian had decided to make the most of his membership; he bathed, dressed, and then broke his fast in the club’s dining room. The two crossed paths just as Julian was leaving, and the duke introduced himself. It seemed that Richmond already knew about how he and Serafina had met in front of the rubbish pit as she was rescuing the pup and about the Golden Duchesses sitting for a portrait. Julian had found this curious until he recalled that Serafina’s Aunt Dora was the Dowager Duchess of Richmond, the duke’s mother.
“My mother was very impressed with your work, Mr. Kerr,” Richmond said. “The ladies are looking forward to having you paint them. They’ve been friends—more like sisters—for most of their lives. It seems fitting that they have a portrait together.”
“I am looking forward to it as well,” Julian had said.
“Good. Now tell me how you met my ward, Miss Serafina Davies. Mother said you plucked her out of the rubbish pit in the alley behind the club…”
Julian had briefly explained how he’d been leaving the club a few days ago and had heard some cries of distress from the alley. After rendering assistance, he’d escorted Miss Davies and Willow home and had met the duchesses in a brief whirlwind conversation. Then the Golden Duchesses had invited him to tea the next day, and they commissioned him to paint their portrait. The explanation had been clear and concise, and polite, but certainly not embellished in any way. But one would have thought he’d stood below Serafina’s balcony and serenaded her at the speculative look the duke had given him.
The duke had not said anything specific but had suggested they meet for breakfast one morning soon. Julian had asked him if he’d wanted a painting commissioned, and the duke had merely replied with a mysterious smile. “Perhaps,” he’d said. “Among other things, we should discuss. Unfortunately, I have a meeting I must get to, but I will see you soon.” And with that, he’d turned and strode out of the dining room.
Could it be that the Dowager Duchess of Featherly had recognized him and had said something to the duke? No, it couldn’t be. Who would know him? He wasn’t using his real name. Nor was he a known face in Society. The duke had seemed to be pondering something as they’d spoken. Julian hoped the duke didn’t think he had designs on Serafina. He didn’t. He was merely being friendly and protective of the girl. Julian wasn’t in Bath to find a wife. Hell, he’d avoided Society as much as possible. It was his older brother Wesley who’d been born to the limelight. Had been expected to marry well. Had taken his rightful place in Society. His brother, as the firstborn, had been the one who had inherited the title of Duke of Strathmoor.
Julian had never coveted the mantle, and yet now, he must carry it for the rest of his life. And that was one of the reasons why he’d wanted a brief respite to get used to what his future would be.
Julian had left for Serafina’s tearoom only to see Grimsby trying to shove his way into the shop. And he’d felt a sudden red rage come over him. He’d itched to fling the fop across the street, but he didn’t want to add to Serafina’s distress.
As an artist, Julian understood the importance of looking deeper than what the subject wanted you to see. He’d made it a point to ask questions, to listen intently, and to observe. It was important in painting—and unless his intuition had failed him, it was important now. The baron had just shown up at the tea shop, likely knowing Serafina was alone. And had Julian not arrived when he did, there was no telling what might have happened.
“Serafina, why did you open the door?” Julian asked her. “You should be more careful in the future.” He immediately regretted the harshness in his tone at the look of hurt in Serafina’s eyes.
“I know. But I saw you across the street and felt safe opening the door, which now seems ridiculous to even say out loud. You couldn’t have known what was in my head or the danger I mistakenly invited in. It was a mistake in judgment to unlock the door for him. Uncle Carlton will be angry with me. He’s warned me plenty of times. And the duchesses expected that I would take a footman with me. But I sort of relaxed that rule when my uncle had a fortified door and new locks installed. And besides, I have Willow for company.”
They both smiled as Willow thumped her tail in support.
Julian softened his tone. “Yes, Willow does have the heart of a lion. But your aunts are probably still thinking a footmanis attending you. I think they would have chased you down the street had they known you’d left the house without a footman.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second.” She giggled. “But I promise to bring a footman from now on.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Good God, she was beguiling. Her laughter, both sweet and sensual at the same time, rendered him completely spellbound. And her doe-brown eyes drew him in every time he looked her way.
Holding the small terrier, Julian walked Serafina home. The little dog had finally relaxed after the ordeal of having Baron Grimsby try to force his way into the tearoom.
They chatted about the upcoming portrait sitting and the various recipes she was testing, and then Serafina’s brow furrowed.
“Is something wrong?” Julian asked in concern.
“I know I’ve only had this sweet girl for a few days, but she’s never made more than a soft little bark,” Serafina said. “You mentioned it yourself, earlier. We’ve never heard her growl—not even being handled with a fresh injury. Willow met everyone at the house and seemed to like them all. And she clearly adores you.”
