Page 48 of Indecently Employed
“Oh?” Gideon frowned at the letter he had just sealed up before setting it atop another. “Well, godspeed and all that. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely day.”
Ajax sighed. “Would you not rather come with?”
“And how would you suggest I chase down the rents when I’m riding off into the sunset with you and your lot?” He said it with a cheeky grin, knowing full well what Ajax was after.
Still, out of equanimity for the world and for all lovers everywhere, Ajax humbled himself enough to say it outright. “Did I make it clear that Theo would be riding out as well?”
Gideon’s flush reached all the way to his ears. “You know it’s not the same as…” He turned and grabbed the two sealed letters, pretending to fiddle with them.
Ajax raised an eyebrow. “The same as what?”
“Nothing,” Gideon sighed, then stood up with a brand-new smile plastered on. “We haven’t received the post in a week or so, so I’ll have to sort that out as well. No time for a day’s pleasure ride, I’m afraid.”
The estate manager made to leave. Ajax fell in alongside him.
“I’ve settled on a title now, have I mentioned?”
“Really? Let’s have it.”
“The Ghost’s Forlorn Embrace.Scintillating, no?”
Gideon made a sound somewhere between a chortle and a cough.
Ajax frowned. “What? I was quite pleased with myself; that’s the product of several days’ labor right there.”
“And just what is the ghost embracing, then? Their gravestone? A naggin of whiskey? Someone living?”
“I haven’t puzzled that out just yet. However, I mentioned the ghost aspect to Susanna, and she seemed keen on it.”
Gideon turned to look at him, perplexed. “Susanna?”
“I beg your pardon. Miss Abbotts, naturally.” Ajax realized he’d shown his hand, but it was too late; he’d been feeling so light and carefree ever since awaking to the smell of her on his sheets. He forced a laugh. “Look at me, overly familiar with the staff. I daresay it’s your fault, Faine, you and your damnably gregarious nature.”
Gideon halted at the end of the hall, shaking his head with a sigh. “Pay a mind there. Miss Abbotts isn’t one of your detached widows. She’s a kind and proper girl.”
Humiliation surged within him. So this is what Gideon thought of him, then?
“And what is that supposed to mean?” he said, cold and sharp. “The two of you are close, aren’t you?”
Gideon looked upward, sighing. “Don’t play the lord with me, Sedley. It doesn’t suit.” Gideon emphasized his name, almost as if he meant to emphasize the baggage that came with it, of being the boot polish boy, the black sheep of a pack of mad,nouveau richetradesmen. Who hadn’t even wanted him to begin with.
“I would never do ill by Miss Abbotts,” Ajax said, as much to himself as to Gideon.
“Not directly, I’m sure,” Gideon muttered, a far-off sort of hurt about his eyes, and Ajax realized the man thought of himself and his own ill-fated romances.
And what could he say to that? A well-known director had used Gideon miserably, then cast him aside when his wife had discovered the two of them. Gideon was left with a black mark on his name; no theater or music hall would hire him, despite his refined aesthetic and sheer ingenuity at set design. Ajax hadoffered him a job, and his home had reaped the rewards. Gallox Castle now truly looked the part of a medieval manor, filled with Tudor antiques and rehabilitated tapestries, all of it the result of Gideon’s good taste and superior management. Even the grounds looked better than they had in Ajax’s youth. And the tenants absolutely adored the cheerful, handsome young man.
“I should call you out,” Ajax said, half in jest as his chest tightened. Was this anger for himself? Or on behalf of his friend?
Gideon gave him a sad smile and a sturdy pat on the shoulder, then walked on alone.
Ajax frowned. He wouldn’t do ill by Susanna. God, no. Never.
But something inside him began to unfurl. Was he so different from that hateful director? From the Earl of Clifton? From Wilkie Clogg, for fuck’s sake? Tupping whoever caught his eye, simply because his finances allowed him to spend his life idling away, doing nothing but upending the lives of others? He thought of Nancy, of her sick, dying. Leaving their daughter behind, all alone in the world. Why had she never sought him out? Was it pride?
Or was it disgust?
A sorrow settled upon his shoulders, dousing the joy with which he’d begun the day.
