He could only just hear the whisper, and then young Tarporley, damn the fellow, was in the way.
“I trust you are a little less stiff and sore today, sir? I see that eye has blackened.”
“It looks worse than it is.” Aware of Delia eyeing him, Giff moderated the curt tone. “I’m well enough, I thank you.”
“I’ve just had a word with Captain Rhoades. He says he intends to have his men patrol the town and environs.”
Capital! Just who he wanted to talk about. Couldn’t the dratted fellow see he was trying to get to hell out of this damned place? “Good notion. Though I doubt the rogues will dare show themselves again.”
“I wish that fellow of yours and I might have caught the rascal!”
Yes, and subjected Giff to all the scandal he wished to avoid. Impatient, he pinched Delia’s finger and heard her hiss in a breath. But it had the desired effect.
“If you will excuse me, my lord, I’m feeling decidedly warm and Mr Giffard is kind enough to escort me to walk on the grass verge.”
Tarporley flushed and stood aside in haste. “I beg your pardon, Miss Burloyne. I’m sorry to have delayed you.”
She gave him a smile. Too sunny for Giff’s taste. Did she mean to flirt with every eligible male in the place?
“It makes no matter, sir. I’m sure Mr Giffard must be gratified by your kind enquiry.”
Oh, must he? Infuriated more like. Why the deuce couldn’t people mind their own business?
They managed to reach the vestibule without further delay, and Delia released his arm as she stepped through. There were two elderly ladies seated on one of the benches still set below the Esplanade, chatting idly as they enjoyed the prospect of the ocean with its usual quota of boats tacking across the bay, but the grassy bank was otherwise free of an infestation of nosy persons, to Giff’s relief.
Delia led the way to a place on the grass far enough removed from the couple to afford privacy and sat on a convenient boulder, setting her face towards the shore as if she sought to catch the salt breeze on her cheeks.
Giff was momentarily diverted by a sudden realisation that his flower girl was a good deal more attractive than he had supposed. No wonder Rhoades was buzzing round her like a bee at a honeypot!
“How in Hades did you manage to grow so pretty since I last saw you?”
She looked up, her freckled features breaking into laughter. “Are you out of your mind, Giff? First you behave like a bear with a sore head because I was talking to the captain. Then you start showering me with compliments? I make every allowance for your injuries, but that is the outside of enough.”
“It’s scarcely a shower to notice how pretty you’ve grown, is it?”
“Since last night? I think you must have a concussion or some such thing.”
He plonked down on the boulder, holding her gaze. “Why did your aunt let me bring you out here? And don’t fob me off with nonsense about concussions.”
“You can talk! After your nonsensical behaviour? Aunt Gertrude knows I must talk to you urgently, that’s why. Though you made me so cross, I’m not sure I have any desire to help you.”
He captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “Forgive me! I thought Rhoades was making up to you, the fiend!”
Her cheeks grew pink and she withdrew her hand. “Nothing of the sort. He had questions for me. He wanted me to clarify a couple of points in your story, that’s all.”
“Oh.”
Feeling nonplussed, Giff eyed her for a moment. She did not meet his gaze, turning her eyes towards the sea again.
“You don’t fancy Tarporley either, then?”
To his satisfaction, that made her turn, though there was a spark in her eye. “Will you stop behaving in this fashion, Giff?”
“I’m just trying to make sure of you!”
Colour flew in her cheeks. “Well, you need not. And if you are thinking of — of what my aunt may have implied last night, then I wish you to know…”
She faded out, looking away. What in Hades was she at now?