Page 6 of Indecently Employed
“That depends,” Susanna responded gently. “Have you finished your exercise?”
Lady Matilda gave a little yelp, then turned back to the paper before her, dipping her pen in the inkwell and hurriedly setting back to work.
Susanna smiled at the back of the girl’s head—the same fair hair as her elder brother’s, braided with a ribbon that complemented her gown quite nicely. Susanna would miss Lady Matilda dearly, especially their shopping excursions when the girl positively came to life, excitedly enumerating all that was new and fashionable. She would miss sharing her more thrilling novels with her, on the express condition that Lady Matilda not tell her brother, for Susanna had not wanted the earl to have the wrong idea about her.
As if that had done her any good in the end. Her cheeks burned as she remembered how good his lips had felt on her neck.
“And no,” she said to her soon-to-be former pupil, “I’m not cross with you. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,my lady. Your kindness has been unparalleled, and especially remarkable in someone so young.”
Lady Matilda lifted her head, turning slightly to where Susanna sat near the window. The girl’s cheeks flushed at the much-deserved praise.
For if Lady Matilda had not sat her down and exposed her brother for what he was, and had she not risked severe punishment by meeting with Miss Harmonia Sedley and convincing her to hire Susanna away from the de Vauvilles’ house, Susanna did not doubt that her heart would have been broken by now, with her virtue no longer intact. Her stomach flipped at the thought of the latter, though she supposed she should be more relieved that the former had not come to pass. But a lifetime’s worth of her parents’ stern homilies and exhortations was not easily brushed aside.
“You have given me a gift that I will cherish always. I’m very proud of you. And I shall miss you so.” Hot tears filled Susanna’s eyes, and she had to turn away lest Lady Matilda see them. She took a deep, rattling breath, clutching the blank note paper to her chest.
Behind her she heard a tiny sniffle, and her heart very nearly did break in that moment. For it was true what she’d said to Mr. Sedley the other day: A child only needed one adult who cared for them, who loved them. And though Lady Matilda adored her brother and the earl was incredibly indulgent of his sister, Susanna could not be so sure that was enough. It worried her, leaving Lady Matilda.
She picked up her pen again.
“What was he like? The Sedley relation, I mean?” Lady Matilda asked in a tentative voice, without looking up from her French.
“Mr. Sedley is Miss Sedley’s great-uncle, I believe, though he can’t be more than twenty years older than her.” Under normal circumstances she would’ve chided Lady Matilda once more, butshe knew this might be one of their last moments together, and she’d always been a soft touch. Susanna dated the missive and wrote out the salutation, her hand sure and steady. She’d always had beautiful penmanship.
“Oh,” Lady Matilda answered, then pressed her luck once more. “Was he handsome, as handsome as Miss Sedley?”
With a frown, Susanna considered Mr. Sedley. He’d been tall, his dark hair peppered with gray at the temples, setting a stark contrast to his blue eyes. His voice, deep and resonant, had been pleasant enough. The memory of his finely fitted coat, and the curiosity it had piqued in her regarding the appearance of his nude back, caused a heat to spread across her body. She reached to the nape of her neck and began fiddling with one of the baby fine curls that had escaped its tight knot, twisting it around her fingers.
“Miss?” Lady Matilda asked again. Susanna heard her shifting in her chair.
“He was pleasant, and rather charming. I would say he revels in being flip, but the effect is one of carefree joviality, not facetiousness or anger.” Susanna rushed the words out, worried that if she thought of Mr. Sedley too much, she might have more…thoughtsabout him. Or perhaps this is just what happened when one allowed oneself to be debauched—one couldn’t help but seek more pleasure wherever it might be found.
Susanna stood, desperate not to think of carnal pleasures anymore. “Is it not time we shifted to mathematics? We had been making decent progress with prime numbers.”
Lady Matilda’s eyes fell back to the barely begun letter in Susanna’s hand.
“Of course, miss.”
“I…” Susanna lifted the note paper, turning it about in her hands. “I’ll just finish this while you begin.”
Lady Matilda smiled sadly, and Susanna could offer her nothing more than the same expression back.
Chapter Three
She’d been waiting upso long she’d nearly given up and retired. Sitting in full dress until the early hours of the morning was incredibly uncomfortable, Susanna had found; her corset chafed against her chemise and her feet begged to be released from her shoes and stockings. She was just bending over to begin unbuttoning her serviceable black footwear when the sound of horses pulling up outside brought her to a halt.
Excitement and dread pulsed through her body in equal measure.This was it. She must face him now, for the last time, and then get on with her life. She paused at the door of her sad little garret, stalling by silently reciting the Lord’s Prayer. Over and over, until she’d lost track of time. Finally, when she realized she had better act or risk not catching him before he went to bed, she walked out and headed for the earl’s study.
Standing outside the door, a sliver of light creeping from underneath it, she felt like a terrified child who’d awoken in the middle of the night, weighing whether to wake her parents and risk their displeasure for the comfort of their presence.
Clenching her eyes shut, she rapped on the door.
“Enter,” came the raspy voice from within, and she did.
“My lord.” She dipped into a curtsy, hoping her movements were not as frantic as they felt.
“Miss Abbotts,” the Earl of Clifton smiled at her, “I’d have supposed you to be abed.” He appeared a bit disheveled in the lamplight, but like most things, it suited him.
Her cheeks heated. “I…”
