Page 3 of A Seaside Scandal (Change of Heart #2)

Chapter Two

ALICE

Iheard the thud as it struck solidly against his cheek, then the curse he muttered under his breath. My muscles tensed as I recognized the man as the handsome, dark-eyed one with the aloof expression.

Something told me he would not find the humor in the situation.

He rubbed his face where the crab had struck him, then examined the sand nearby. He spotted the assailant, who was now scuttling toward the water. The man’s confusion made his brow furrow…but then he suddenly looked in my direction.

A wave of heat passed over my face. Would it be best to take the blame? Or to pretend I hadn’t even witnessed the ordeal?

…Or caused it?

I looked away from his curious gaze as quickly as I could, but I was still nursing the pinched skin on the palm of my hand, which was red with a small welt. I hid it behind my shawl, picking up my gloves and slowly rising to my feet. My shells were still scattered in the sand.

I held my breath, hoping the man would simply walk away. Instead, I sensed him move closer to me. There was nowhere to hide, not unless I ran into the sea and dunked myself underwater. I wasn’t certain what I was more threatened by at the moment—the unrelenting waves, or this man’s scowl.

He stopped two paces away, a crease between his dark brows. There were a few grains of sand just below his sharp cheekbone where the crab had struck him. Seeing him closer, I was alarmed by how handsome he looked. Younger too, perhaps not any older than Edmund.

Just when I thought he didn’t plan to speak—but simply stare at me until I crumbled—he opened his mouth. “I wasn’t aware that Brighton was home to a species of flying crabs.” His deep voice suited him perfectly.

Was he trying to convince me to own up to the mishap? Or was he giving me a way to escape? I straightened my shoulders and tried to appear more elegant than I felt with my pile of shells at my feet and wind-swept hair. “You must be on your guard, sir. They are running rampant this time of year.”

The man continued staring at me, so I set to work putting my gloves back on, ignoring the throbbing pain on my palm. Was he angry? When I looked up, he hadn’t moved an inch. “Flying rampant, you mean.”

I blinked. “Yes, of course.”

His mouth twitched upward. “One can never be too careful, I suppose.” I heard the amusement in his tone.

I smiled in obvious relief, looking out at the sea instead of his deep brown eyes. Somehow, they were even more unsettling with a smile behind them. “Indeed,” I said.

We should not have been conversing at all without an introduction, but he seemed intent to ignore that rule.

I peeked at him again once my smile had subsided a little.

He stood at a respectable distance, facing the sea with his hands interlocked behind his back.

The breeze tossed his wavy chestnut hair.

I noticed a cleft in his chin. The sharpness of his features was more prominent in his profile, especially in the straight line of his nose and edges of his jaw.

But when he turned his head toward me, his features were altogether softer, and the line between his brows was gone.

“Mr. Jonathan Croft.” He studied my face—but far less intently than I had just been studying his. “And you are?”

I looked over my shoulder, catching sight of Mama, Edmund, and Charlotte moving in my direction. They were still far enough away. I could answer without being judged for my impropriety. “Miss Alice Kellaway.”

“Have you been long in Brighton, Miss Kellaway?” he asked.

I composed myself with a breath, feeling suddenly flustered.

I had never had such an unexpected conversation with such a handsome gentleman before.

There was a forbidden quality to it that made my heart race.

I felt rebellious carrying on as if I hadn’t just given my own introduction without a chaperone at my side.

Perhaps it was my proximity to the sea that made me feel so untamed, but I found that I quite enjoyed it.

“We just made our arrival today from Hampshire,” I answered finally. “And yourself?”

“A week.” He nodded down the beach toward the group I had seen him walking with before. “My sisters demanded that I accompany them.”

I eyed the two ruffled, heavily ornamented young ladies, and made swift—and perhaps unfair—judgments of their character. They did seem to be the sort of ladies to achieve all their objectives. In fact, they reminded me of Charlotte.

“Do you regularly obey their demands?” I asked with a tilt of my head.

Mr. Croft gave a half-smile. “Only when they promise me something valuable in return.”

I brushed a strand of hair from my eyes. My curiosity tugged at me. “What did they promise you?”

He leaned down, as if to tell me a secret. “To stop pestering me about everything else.”

I met his gaze and laughed, a blush heating the edges of my cheeks. He was far too charming. “A fair trade, though I do wonder what it is they find the need to pester you about.”

“A great number of things.” He took a step back as a wave approached his feet. “I will not bore you with the list.”

I stared at my shells, which were mere inches from the water’s reach. Would I look like a fool if I slumped over to gather them up? Our conversation would need to end soon. Mama had already spotted me.

“I confess that I had to bargain with my brother to accompany me here as well. However, I was prudent enough not to make him promises I cannot keep.” I paused with a thoughtful look. “I will never stop pestering him.”

Mr. Croft’s smile widened, and he lifted an eyebrow at me. “What did you promise him then?”

“I promised him an adventure.” I looked out at an incoming wave.

It would take my shells, for certain. Despite my better judgment, I bent over and scraped up as many of them as I could, cupping them in my hands before dancing away from the water’s edge.

I didn’t escape in time. My hem and boots were drenched as I trudged away with my collection of shells.

Mr. Croft watched me with a bewildered look, and I couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or not. “My sisters promised me the same,” he said.

I was breathless, and I couldn’t decide if it was due to my rapid movement, or the intent look on Mr. Croft’s face. “But surely they didn’t promise you a dangerous encounter with a flying crab,” I said.

He gave a serious nod, but I caught his lips twitching upward. “That they did not. I don’t think anyone could have predicted such an occurrence. But they did say that Brighton would exceed my expectations.”

“Has it?”

“It’s beginning to.”

I fought against a blush, but my smile had officially earned its ninny status.

I stared at his face, feeling thoroughly charmed and a little lightheaded.

My initial observation of his countenance had led me to believe he would be stern and cold, so his willingness to smile and tease fascinated me.

Was he unattached? Married? It was entirely inconvenient and unfair that a woman’s marital status could usually be determined by her prefix, but a gentleman could be a Mr. no matter what.

There was simply no way of knowing if he was single or not without asking a mutual acquaintance.

We shouldn’t have even been acquainted at all, but here we stood—acquainted enough that I would surely not forget him tomorrow. Or the next day, or the next.

I glanced behind me, where Mama, Edmund, and Charlotte walked along the pebbled part of the beach, waiting for me. “Well, I ought to be going.” I hesitated. “I am truly sorry about the crab.”

Mr. Croft pressed his lips together but said nothing. He offered a departing bow in my direction. I wanted to ask him where he was staying, and if I would see him again—perhaps at the assembly or theater—but I had run out of time. He would have to remain a mystery for now.

Careful not to spill my shells, I made my way up the beach toward Mama.

She now stood with her arm looped through Edmund’s, creating a barrier between him and Charlotte.

I stole a look at each of their faces. It seemed that all three of them had a reason to be cross with me now.

Edmund scowled like it was my fault Charlotte had pursued him, and Charlotte wore a look of mild betrayal, since I had failed at luring my mother away.

Mama appeared displeased too, and I could easily guess at the reason.

“Who was that gentleman?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“I don’t know,” I said, keeping my tone nonchalant. “We were not introduced.”

She frowned. “But you were conversing.”

“Briefly. He made a comment about my shells.” I held out my hands, hoping to distract her.

“I am going to make them into a frame for one of my paintings. I will require more, but this was all I could gather today.” Before she could question me further, I put on a smile and linked my arm through Charlotte’s, despite her cold demeanor toward me. I knew just how to cheer her up.

We walked past Mama and Edmund, and once we had achieved enough distance, I leaned toward her. “His name is Mr. Jonathan Croft.”

Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “So you did meet him.”

“Indeed.” My face heated. “But he was the one who offered his introduction first.”

Her lips twisted into a smirk as she glanced in Mr. Croft’s direction. He had joined his sisters again. “What did you learn of him?” Charlotte asked.

“Not a great deal.” My gaze lingered on his dark brows, and the smile on his face as he spoke to one of the gentlemen who had joined them.

Charlotte’s inquisitive eyes dragged all over Mr. Croft and his sisters, and I felt a sudden surge of regret over telling her his name. “Is he rich?” she asked. “His clothing would suggest he has money, but how much is the real question.”

“I don’t know.” And nor do I care. “But I found him quite agreeable and charming. I liked him.”

Charlotte laughed. “Hmm. He must not be rich, then. It is a rare man who is agreeable, handsome, and rich.” She lowered her voice. “That is why I cannot give up on Edmund.”

An ill sensation entered my stomach. I couldn’t delay it any longer. “But you should give up on him.”

Her confused gaze lifted to mine.

I paused, collecting my thoughts. “You know I am in support of the match, and that I always have been…but Edmund made his feelings clear this morning.” I sighed.

“He has seen through our schemes, and he wanted to express that he has no wish to court you. Or anyone, it seems. Please do not take it to heart. I wish for you to be happy and to marry a man who is madly in love with you. That is what you deserve.”

A scowl crept onto Charlotte’s brow, but it was closer to determination than dismay. “Perhaps it’s not too late to change his mind.”

“No—Charlotte…he is quite stubborn. He will not change his mind. I am very sorry for the role I have played in raising your hopes, but it seems you are not destined to be my sister-in-law after all.”

She stared at the pebbles as we walked, her expression difficult to read. I couldn’t tell if she was sad, angry, or simply contemplative. “Thank you for informing me.”

“Let us enjoy the rest of our trip without Edmund spoiling our fun,” I said, tucking her arm closer to me.

“I believe there is a man in this world who has been given the eyes to see you properly—as you are, inside and out—and to love everything he sees. Edmund simply doesn’t have those eyes. Someone else will, I am certain of it.”

She scoffed, a faint smile on her lips. “You are ridiculously romantic.”

I was relieved to see her accept the situation so gracefully.

At least she didn’t seem inclined to continue pursuing Edmund.

As much as I loved Charlotte, I did know that she was driven mostly by the notion of being the future mistress of Kellaway Manor.

She had never seemed to care too deeply about whether or not she was loved by my brother.

It troubled me to witness, since being so loved was my dearest dream for myself.

I couldn’t imagine how anyone wouldn’t care at all.

“Will you be all right, then?” I asked in a tentative voice.

“Of course.” Charlotte took a deep breath, lifting her chin. “I will simply have to shift my efforts elsewhere.”

I nodded, my heart flooding with relief. “We will meet plenty of gentlemen here in Brighton.”

She wore that contemplative look again, and for some reason, it made me nervous. “Plenty,” she affirmed.