Page 26 of Indecently Employed
But he could scarcely deny that she looked completely and utterly beautiful in the gray and blue striped silk, as she finallydonned a garment that matched her poise and clever mind. From across the church, he allowed himself the pleasure of watching her, accepting that his conscience would give him a good drubbing about it later.
After hours of unmitigated sentimentality and with the stench of thenouveau richeclinging to every inch of him, he was desperate to get to the place he called home, and to finally get something down on paper before Rokeby sent him yet another politely threatening letter.
He began the next day full of hope, a rare experience for him.
Miss Abbotts, unfortunately clad once more in that horrid, shabby little cloak, had been ready to leave early. Charlotte was less punctual, but they somehow managed to wrangle her and all her effects into the carriage with enough time to reach the station a quarter of an hour before their train was to depart.
Now here they sat in their private compartment, Ajax on one bench, Miss Abbotts and Charlotte opposite him. Already he felt lighter, knowing that the soot-filled dreariness of London would soon be behind them, to be replaced by the sheep-filled dreariness of Yorkshire. He removed his watch and popped it open.
“Only a few minutes more,” he declared, his words laced with eagerness. Why, he’d whistle a tune like Jeb the matchstick boy, if only he were willing to display such a boyish image.
“You are eager to return home,” Miss Abbotts said, both an observation and a question.
He paused. “Yes,” he admitted. “I am. Especially eager.”
She considered him for a moment, and gave a tiny smile at whatever she found.
Ajax seized upon it, willing it to his memory.
“I never properly thanked you two for my lovely dress.” She flushed slightly and turned to Charlotte, who was staring out the window, hands clasped in her lap. “It was very kind ofyou, Charlotte, to think of me. Although,” her tone became instructive, “it was much too fine a gift.”
“It wasn’t my idea. It was all his,” Charlotte replied blandly, still looking out the window, watching the people rush about the platform.
Miss Abbotts’s eyes darted back to Ajax for a moment, the flush still in her cheeks. “Well, it was—is—lovely. Thank you.”
Not as lovely as you were, wearing it. He would have said it out loud, were his child born on the wrong side of the blanket not sitting here with them.
Instead, said child determined it an appropriate time to add, “It was already made up. Someone didn’t pay.”
The governess smiled, a kind, generous expression that only those who tended to children for their livelihood could ever manage to conjure.
Ajax wanted to buy Miss Abbotts a trunkful of new gowns, each one in more flattering fabrics and shades than the last. Proper garments to enhance her beauty and charm. He wanted to spoil her, to see the same smile she’d shown moments ago. Or the look that had burst from her when he’d first led her to the second-best bedroom in his London house.
Instead, he withdrew a newspaper from his coat and pretended to occupy himself with it for the first hour of their journey, all the while chiding himself for considering Miss Abbotts far too much while in the meantime managing to write not a single word of his next story. This couldn’t continue to happen. Gallox Castle was large; he should be able to—would absolutely need to—make himself scarce. He needed to write, to feel something other than this silent self-loathing, this disbelief at his own utter uselessness.
Susanna had never seen this part of the country, and a slight thrill of adventure came over her every time she looked out the window at the landscape rushing past.
After an hour or so, it appeared Charlotte had fallen asleep against the wall of the train car. And although the constant rocking and swaying was almost too soporific for anyone to resist, it was a reminder that while the girl carried herself with a preternaturally mature countenance, she was still a child.
Susanna allowed herself a brief glance across the compartment at Mr. Sedley, whose head was buried in his paper. She was struck suddenly by a wicked urge to catch his eye and engage him in whispered conversation about this castle of his, but she quickly batted it away. He was not her friend, she reminded herself; he was her employer. She would do well to remember that this time.
Instead, she deftly slid the narrow first volume ofEast Lynnefrom the folds of her cloak. Traveling in such a fine, spacious compartment, with plush upholstered seats and frequent visits from a shining brass tea cart, she found herself in a heightened state of excitement—the perfect mood to begin another rereading. Even though she’d only just finished the last one days before.
The impoverished and recently orphaned Lady Isabel Vane had only just married Archibald when she sensed something that made her look up from the text.
Mr. Sedley was watching her, intently.
A heat crept up the back of her neck. She lowered her book, unsure of what to say.
Thankfully he spoke, saving Susanna from attempting to unravel her own Gordian knot of emotions.
“Ah,” he lifted his gaze from the book in her hands, curiosity playing at his eyes. It had a gentling effect on his countenance. “You enjoy reading? Novels, I mean.” He nodded at her book.
“Oh, yes.” She quickly turned it so the spine faced away from him, covering the embossed letters with her fingers in embarrassment. “I find it an excellent amusement.” The words sounded insipid as they echoed in her head.An excellent amusement?Goodness, he seemed to have an uncanny ability to coax her to uneven ground, where she found difficulty in just being herself. She braced herself for a dressing-down, a warning against exposing his daughter to such empty diversions.
“I agree,” he said. He’d one hand against his cheek, one finger tapping idly at his lip as he looked back out the window. “There’s nothing quite like it, is there? Escaping oneself, shedding the ordinary for the unknown, the spectacular.”
Susanna’s mouth nearly fell open.Thisshe had not expected.
