Page 30 of Indecently Employed
“She hunted us,” Charlotte said before biting into the last biscuit.
“Dear,” Susanna said, cautioning her.
The girl sighed, pushing away her small plate with the biscuit’s remains. “She spotted us. She knew who we were.” She pinned a stare on her father. “That was all I meant by it.”
“Ah, yes,” Mr. Sedley said, looking away to stare at the clock on the wall. Susanna thought she detected a hint of nerves in his voice. Either that, or now she was jumping at shadows, tilting at windmills.
“Mrs. Kenney is a formidable tactician,” he said. “She must have seen us disembarking together.” He paused. “Her estate is four hours’ ride from Gallox Castle—which, speaking of, we should depart for as soon as possible, as I’ve finally located Faine and he’s loaded everything up.”
They cleared out of the refreshment room and followed Mr. Sedley to the carriage, where there awaited a handsome young man with the brightest smile Susanna had ever seen.
“Ah, this must be young Miss Sedley!” The man had wavy brown hair and a clefted chin. With his glowing expression and solid form, he appeared the very picture of fortified countryhealth. He turned his magnetic smile to Susanna. “And our new governess, Miss Abbotts. So pleased to meet you, so happy to have you. We could use a little liveliness at the castle.” He looked back at her, grinning even as he handed Charlotte up into the carriage.
Susanna couldn’t help but return the smile.
Mr. Sedley stood alongside her, and coughed. “This is Gideon Faine, my estate manager. If his positivity is too much, feel free to completely ignore him, as I do.”
Mr. Faine took a step toward Susanna, ready to assist her.
“Gideon, check with Theo, see if the team is ready,” Mr. Sedley instructed with a nod, halting the pleasant young man midstride.
A gentle touch at her elbow sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she looked up at Mr. Sedley, surprised. He betrayed nothing, staring instead at his manager, his face conveying some unknown meaning as he moved her toward the carriage and helped her up the steps. He clambered in after her, and after a couple minutes of settling in they were off once more, leaving the dust of the railway station behind them, with the mysterious, faraway castle waiting leagues ahead of them.
Susanna’s heart eventually slowed, and she took a deep breath. She felt small, so small, standing on the precipice of something new and daunting. She reached for the cross around her neck, trying to be surreptitious about it as she rubbed the small gold adornment like a talisman. It felt crushing, her overactive imagination filling in Mrs. Kenney and Mr. Sedley’s story. But it truly shouldn’t. She’d only forgotten herself while in Francis de Vauville’s employ, allowing herself an outsized vanity and an inconceivable lust that she couldn’t afford to repeat. She was a governess, a parson’s daughter, which she would do well to remember. She might as well be the wallpaper.
It would all be easier that way.
Looking out the window, Susanna conjured the image of a small seaside cottage and held on to it, desperate to escape to other thoughts.
The carriage windows offered charming views of an array of autumnal colors: rust, brown, warm gold. It reminded her of the other night, and the way he’d looked at her when he suggested she wear the hue to his niece’s wedding. Susanna straightened her back, warning herself against such thoughts as heat spread throughout her body. She couldn’t look at him. So she kept staring out the window until, after what seemed like ages, what looked to be a rocky outcropping came into view in the distance, at the top of a hill. Moments later, she realized it was not a natural feature; it was, in fact, Gallox Castle.
A low stone wall snaked out from the small gatehouse and up around the hill. She chanced a glance at Mr. Sedley, who looked out with the eagerness of a boy pressing his face against a shop window, enchanted by his heart’s desire.
The main part of the castle itself was less an imposing, fantastical stronghold of lords and vassals; rather, it was comparatively small and refined, a fortified manor house. A home. Two crenellated towers, one taller than the other and boasting a turret, flanked a wide hall. Behind the shorter one there appeared to be another wing, perhaps a modern addition, judging by the brightness of the stone and its relative lack of creeping foliage.
Susanna thought she might never leave here either, were it to belong to her. There was nothing in the city that could compare.
“I used to imagine this place a Norman stronghold, when I was a boy,” Ajax said, his tone a bit hushed. “It isn’t, obviously. It only dates to the fifteenth century. And the previous owner added the east wing. Probably what beggared the chap.”
Miss Abbotts and Charlotte spoke simultaneously.
“It’s lovely.”
“Is it haunted?”
He turned to look at them, and was surprised to see pleasure on both their faces. A warmth bloomed in his chest, further heightening his spirits.
A weight had lifted from his shoulders the moment Hull had receded from view and the sky opened before them, expansive and dark in contrast to the rolling hills around them, their summertime green fading away to autumnal tones.
He could finally breathe, even in this blasted stuffy carriage.
“Is it haunted?” Charlotte repeated, this time taking care to appear indifferent to any forthcoming answer.
“Only by the hopes and dreams of the Lamplugh family. They were quite the formidable bunch in the seventeenth century. Jacobites.”
“It’s very romantic,” Miss Abbotts said, her voice so low it sent a shiver down his back.
He allowed his eyes to linger on her—her dark lashes, her wet lips, her flawless skin.
