Page 50 of Indecently Employed
“But I must yield to you; I must give you something, allow you something, for today you’re giving me the pleasure of your charming conversation and your perfect smile.”
Susanna took a steadying breath as she feigned nonchalance. She didn’t have much space to reply, as they were nearly within earshot of Charlotte and Theo.
“I’ll yield to you, sir. But not until tonight, when such things are appropriate.” She gave him a sideways glance, staring at him so he might not misunderstand her. “And private.”
The shock on his face was almost as satisfying as that brief kiss. She delighted in it, practically drunk on her own confidence as Theo assisted her onto the mild-mannered gelding she was to ride.
After Theo left to fetch his mount, the two Sedleys drew their own horses up alongside hers.
Feeling as though she were at the height of all her powers, more vibrant and alive than ever before, Susanna gave her employer and his daughter a wide, winning smile.
“Shall we be off then?”
The wind on the coast was bracing. Ajax preferred it; the cold made him feel alive, a puny human dependent on warmth and shelter just like any other animal.
Susanna seemed to struggle a bit against it, clutching at her bonnet with one hand even as she picked her way gracefully across the beach. He forced his gaze away from her only to catch Charlotte staring at him from a few yards away, unperturbed by the wind whipping her dark locks about her face. She seemed to haunt the beach as easily as she haunted the halls of Gallox Castle.
Ajax admitted begrudgingly to himself that it was a bit enviable, this presence that Charlotte possessed. It was difficult for him to cut an imposing figure, partly by the luck of his handsome features and partly from his years of experience cultivating the ability to summon whatever charm he needed at any given moment. He thought of Nancy, and fondly recalled how she had dominated every scene she appeared in from the moment she entered the stage. The memory of her didn’t hurt this time; rather, looking back bestowed upon him a hazy sort of happiness as he walked toward their odd, self-assured daughter.
“Well,” he said, loudly enough that she might hear him over the whistling of the wind, “what do you reckon, then?”
She didn’t smile, but her eyes widened in a way that brought joy to his heart. She turned toward the water. “So many lifetimes lived, so many stories lost to the sea.” She squinted, thinking for a moment. “It’s wonderful.”
While Ajax might have chosen a different adjective to describe it, he realized he shared the general sentiment. “Pity there’s not much to see,” he mused, before dryly adding, “as it’s all underwater. One might’ve thought of that. One being myself.” Of course he hadn’t been thinking of that when he first suggested this visit; he’d only been thinking of preventing Susanna—Miss Abbotts—from discovering that his mind was typically occupied with dreaming up ridiculous nonsense for Chester Rokeby’s mediocre publication.
Charlotte seemed unbothered by the minor inconvenience of the town being somewhere underneath the ocean, and she began wandering into the waves, not caring about the sand sucking at her boots or the frigid water lapping at her hems, which would make the ride back home most uncomfortable for mere mortals.
Theo was keeping his distance, tending to the horses all alone, as was his nature. He’d barely said two words the whole ride, and Ajax almost felt guilty for dragging him along. Charlotte had been impressive in handling herself astride Ceres, the stunning mare he’d gifted her along with the two riding habits only a few weeks prior. He was proud of his daughter.
Him, Ajax Sedley. The same man who, five years ago, would have lived at his club, if only they’d have allowed him to hang pictures on the walls. The same man who had vowed to never bring another wretched Sedley into the world. Now here he was, writing paternal letters to his niece and watching his baseborn daughter halfheartedly ape the gentry, proud as peacock. What was next? Marriage? A pack of wriggly little ragamuffins storming about the hallowed, perfectly restored grounds of his manor? He frowned, imagining their sticky little hands on the tapestries.
Without thinking, he quickly surveyed the surroundings to locate Miss Abbotts. He went to her, his thoughts in a tangle; all he knew is that he craved the comfort of her presence.
She looked about the beach and, when she seemed satisfied that neither of their companions were watching them too closely, gifted him a wide, carefree grin. It warmed him, and he instantly forgot about the cold wind cutting through him.
“I must offer my apologies.”
“Whatever for?” she asked, perplexed.
“For how incrediblydullthis all is. I ought to have realized. No ruins. No edifying plaques. No melancholy memorial. No certain location, even. Just the sea. And the relentless gale.”
“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes softening. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were charmingly red. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, protect her from the chill. “No. I quite like it. It’s much more mysterious this way. It allows one to think.”
He couldn’t help but smile, watching her take it all in. Perhaps this was all one really needed—the joy to be found in others. Perhaps he needn’t be alone anymore.
“And I’ve always preferred to be near the water.” Miss Abbotts sighed happily.
“Really?”
“I hope that one day I’ll have put enough away that I might live on the coast,” she said distantly, as if he were not standing right there next to her.
Ajax frowned. He didn’t like thinking about her being away from him. But he didn’t own her.Miss Abbotts isn’t one of your detached widows, Gideon had said. A lump formed in his throat. And one day Charlotte would marry, as well. For some reason the realization hit him in the gut, as potent as a solid punch.
They would both leave Gallox Castle. It was as inevitable as had been Cleton’s disappearance beneath the waves. Miss Abbotts had to earn her own living. She had to keep moving. As much as he desired it, she wouldn’t—couldn’t—remain with him, in his bed.
He might have said something about that in the moment. But he hadn’t the wherewithal.
So instead he asked, “And what ofThe Monthly Revel? Have you read anything yet?” But what he really wanted to know was whether she found his scribblings, and by extension him, to be of any value.
