Page 17 of Indecently Employed
Chapter Six
“Miss Abbotts,” he said,a few steps into the room. “It’s late.”
“Oh?” Susanna’s eyes drifted to the mantel clock. “So it is.”
“My infinite apologies, I should have informed you. You shall dine with me while we’re here.”
“Oh,” she repeated. “I see.” That blasted feeling surged in her middle, rendering her lightheaded, her center weak and…warm. She hoped she wasn’t blushing, but she feared she was.
Mr. Sedley opened his mouth, but immediately shut it again. He was staring at something behind her, a frown deepening the handsome lines of his face.
Susanna followed his gaze to the bed and the two sad frocks lying on top of it—flat and devoid of charm, emblems of penury and a miserable commitment to practicality. It pained her, to be exposed thusly: Here was Miss Susanna Abbotts, owner of not one, but three extremely plain and outdated dresses, and little else.
She turned back around and caught Mr. Sedley’s eye, and they stood watching each other for what felt like an eternity. Herbody resisted all her attempts to exercise control over it, while her heart thudded and that warm, expectant heat spread down her legs.
For a moment she worried he would say something about her clothes, but he didn’t. Instead, he smiled and offered her his arm.
“Shall we go down to dinner, then?”
Hesitantly, she took it, her fingers barely grazing the fine wool of his jacket. Even with that light touch, though, she could feel the firmness of his arm underneath, something real and solid.
It was enough to ground her and bring her back to earth, and she managed to carry herself as she should for the entirety of the meal. Instead of the dining room, which Mr. Sedley had informed her was far too cavernous for his sole use, they ate in a smaller drawing room, at a table in front of the fireplace. It was unconventional, but she found it surprisingly cozy.
“So you see, I can just retire to that nice chair over there.” Mr. Sedley nodded, indicating a walnut armchair with a brown buttoned leather back and sturdy, tastefully carved armrests. “No need to trudge down this hall or that.”
Susanna considered the arrangement. “It is practical,” she agreed.
He lifted his wine glass, staring at the scant red liquid remaining within as he continued. “And when one is two sheets to the wind, well. It’s simply common sense. Just roll yourself from the table and,presto, you’re in the drawing room. No need to complicate matters for the poor soporific soul.”
Susanna tried to suppress a smile, but it was no use. The corners of her mouth turned up.
“Ah!” Mr. Sedley said, clearly chuffed. “I knew she possessed some modicum of humor.” He took a drink, his clear blue eyes watching her over the rim of the glass.
Their conversation had been delightful; Mr. Sedley was as comfortable and carefree as she had yet seen him. Once he found a receptive avenue for his charm and wit, he basked in it, charging ahead with even more smiles, more jokes. It was a self-sustaining cycle, with both parties’ spirits climbing higher and higher. He spoke of art, a bit of science, and endless anecdotes about this person and that. She knew she shouldn’t behave so familiarly around him, but Susanna had been unable to resist. It felt good, lowering her guard, and though it was an unhelpful thought, she wondered what it must be like to live like this. Like Harmonia Sedley, beautiful and bejeweled and turned out in the latest fashions, allowing oneself the indulgent luxury of having a lark.
The butler entered to clear their plates.Truly a skeleton staff, Susanna mused idly. They sat in silence, their mirth tempering as they waited. Finally the door closed, leaving them alone once more.
Mr. Sedley set down his goblet, his fingers fiddling with the stem in a distracted manner. Suddenly, as if he could read her thoughts, he posed a question.
“Don’t you find it maddening? Being a governess?”
She sat up a bit straighter. “What do you mean?”
He gave a mournful sigh, and Susanna realized the spell was broken; they were employer and employee once more. Not just a man and a woman sharing conversation over a meal.
“It must be dull, mustn’t it? Never laughing. Never dancing. Never speaking one’s mind.” With two deft fingers he twisted the glass about its stem, back and forth, the wine sloshing around inside.
Susanna dared not answer that. Instead, she waited.
“See?” He laughed. “Exactly like that. I’m surprised young ladies don’t crack up,” he mused, lifting the wine to his lips againand finishing it off in one swallow. “The devil knows I would,” he added, frowning at the empty glass in his hand.
“We are allowed to dance, sir,” she managed weakly, but it didn’t sound convincing, even to her. And she’d been reared in a parsonage.
“Oh, really?” His brows shot up, a wry smile curling his lip. “I shall have to remember.”
That startling feeling sparked in her again, low in her body. She pressed her legs together underneath the table, wishing it away, for she was sure he would somehow notice.
Thankfully he didn’t, as he instead gazed off into the distance, tapping the tablecloth with one hand. “I’m glad you’ve stayed, Miss Abbotts.”
