Page 37 of Indecently Employed
He wasn’t about to say any of that, of course, but before he could think of an alternative, she cleared her throat and broke the silence. “I thought you might like me to apprise you of Miss Sedley’s work today.” There was a slight roughness to her voice.
“Of course,” he repeated, feeling very much like a simpering schoolboy trying to conceal his erection after viewing a particularly enticing Botticelli plate in his textbook. Ajax had always been fond of Renaissance art. The pinnacle of the female form, thick and lush. Just as he assumed Miss Abbotts to be, under all that ghastly fabric.
Miss Abbotts, meanwhile, seemed to return to herself as she spoke, praising his daughter for her sharp mind and the ease with which she took to new subjects, but also pointing out where she might improve: her stubborn nature, and her arrogant dismissal of subjects that failed to hold her interest.
A smile teased at Ajax’s mouth. He recognized himself in the report.
“Part of my purpose is to engage her even when she finds the subject dull—as with Latin, for instance. As she’s only just begun, it no doubt feels daunting and unnatural to her. I think perhaps I might take her into Beverley later this week, to visit the cemetery.”
“Already given up, have you?” he attempted in a jocular tone, only to be met with a blank look. Hell. He was slipping.
“To translate the headstones,” she added, speaking as if he were her student. “I suspect that might hook her interest, and perhaps motivate her further study.”
“Of course,” Ajax said, waving a hand. “You have whatever leeway you require. Whatever you believe is best.” He turned away from her, so as to avoid seeing the warm brown of her eyes, the shine of her lips. “I trust you, Miss Abbotts. Completely.”
Chapter Twelve
She did not respond.Ajax heard nothing but the sound of Miss Abbotts adjusting the fabric of her skirts over her petticoats. The hour was late. Soon she’d disappear, and slip from his grasp completely until the time came for their next discussion regarding Charlotte’s education.
He crossed the room to another cellarette, this one shaped like a globe and already open. He filled two small crystal tumblers, then returned to the desk and set one before her.
“I recall you do not partake, but if you’d care to make an exception.” He raised his own to his lips in a mock toast, then threw it back.
Miss Abbotts hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the tumbler. She stared at the liquid within with the look of someone preparing to make a decision they knew would be unwise. She then followed his example, tilting her head back and downing it in one go. Ajax winced slightly as she recoiled, then spent the next several seconds coughing at the burn in her throat.
“Tell me, then, what do you make of your position thus far?” he said once her coughing had subsided. He swallowed and shifted in his desk chair, steepling his hands.
“I…” she stuttered, her eyelashes fluttering prettily, her rounded cheeks even rosier now from the liquor. She cleared her throat and folded her hands primly in her lap. “Of course I find it acceptable, sir. The terms are generous, and as I’ve stated, Miss Sedley is an intelligent girl and an apt pupil.”
“And the staff?” he asked, though he thought only of the bright smile she’d bestowed on Faine at the rail station. Gideon was handsome. And younger. And recalling it still smarted, despite the fact that the manager didn’t care a whit what Miss Abbotts’s tits looked like.
“Very kind as well. Which reminds me, I shall need to speak with the head groom—”
“Theo?” he asked, puzzled.
“Yes, to arrange for lessons of some sort, as Miss Sedley has never ridden before.”
Surprise shot through him, an initial burst of panic that dulled to an ache of embarrassment. Of course the girl couldn’t ride. How could he have been so obtuse? He pushed back from the desk and walked toward the window, hands clasped behind his back. And here he’d been congratulating himself on adapting to his new role so quickly, for caring so much for Charlotte’s well-being. Physical well-being was the bare minimum, though; it was the extent to which his own family had seen to him. The lump in his throat felt larger with every moment he dwelled on it.
“I’ll speak with Theo myself. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.” His voice felt not his own, it was so solemn and flat. In the distance he could see the meandering stream that crisscrossed the estate.
“Your world has turned upside down. One cannot be expected to produce a gently reared young lady in a scant few months.” Her voice felt like a balm on his emotional wounds, it was so soothing. He felt a sudden, pathetic urge to go to her, to collapse at her feet and feel her comforting hand on his cheek. He tightened his hands’ grip on one another.
He thought of the small painting that Joseph Palgrave had snatched out from under him, and reflected on the calm domesticity of the scene. Did he want that? Ajax frowned at the wavy glass, staring intently at the ripples and undulations in the thick leaded panes. Did he want her like that?
“Of course a lady should ride,” he said in a weak voice.
“It is easily solved. Do not spare any more worry for it.”
The smile in her voice was too much, the urge to cross the room and kneel before her too strong. He longed to take her hands in his and press them to his mouth in equal parts benediction and lovemaking. Though every part of his brain screamed at him to put these thoughts aside, the yearning had become too intense for him to disregard any longer.
Earlier that day, Faine had suggested that Ajax hired both he and Miss Abbotts out of some noble cause, saving both the estate manager and the governess from penury and ruin. But he hadn’t. Ajax was no rescuer, no hero. He was not a good man. He was uncharitable, base, and worthless.Everything you do is for selfish reasons, hissed that hateful voice in his head.
But hateful though the voice may be, in this case it was accurate. Ajax knew he was at an inflection point; the decision before him now would determine if he could truly change his ways and be the good and decent father Charlotte deserved, or if the new Ajax Sedley would just be the old, debauched Ajax Sedley, only this time with a daughter whose life he might ruin.
“A moment ago, I expressed my absolute trust in you,” he said, his voice imbued with portent. “Do you trust me?” He clenchedhis jaw, then glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of her face; her expression was expectant, yet apprehensive. What was she hoping for?
“Do you trust me, Miss Abbotts?” he repeated as he turned, unclasping his hands only to clench them in fists at his sides as he met her eyes. His whole body tightened; he felt rigid, as if rooted to the floor.
