Page 54 of Unforeseen Affairs
“Pah, barley water. What does she think you are, a mewling babe just out of the sick bed?” Mr. Sedley said fondly, then paused, his eyes widening as if he’d only just realized something.
Mrs. Sedley raised her brows at him in question, but Mr. Sedley shook his head and returned to form.
“At any rate, Sir Colin, please sit. The more the merrier, as they say.” Mr. Sedley lifted his glass of wine in salute.
“Yes,” Miss Sedley said, her gaze dropping to Colin’s mouth—only for a moment, but enough for him to notice. “Please stay.”
It was nice, his company being wanted—not because of his fame, but because of the genuine kindness of his hosts. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and it filled him with gratitude.
“Very well, then,” Colin said cheerfully, vowing not to think any more of the events of the last hour, or of the lurid imaginings they had brought forth. He could manage this.
There were no footmen in sight, so he pulled out a chair for Miss Sedley.
When she sat down, he caught a glimpse of the small of her back, where his hands had been a short time ago.
His breath caught.
What had he gotten himself into?
Chapter Fifteen
Thetablehadbeencleared, the port drunk—although Charlotte and her stepmother had abstained—and conversation had. In their London home they never bothered with the ritual of shifting rooms; Ajax Sedley had never been one to stand on ceremony, though he did, on occasion, expect it of his eldest daughter. Most of the time he couldn’t care less what she was about, allowing and even encouraging her interest in spiritualism and her desire to assist Mrs. Stone. But sometimes he would look at her sadly, and Charlotte would know her father had been brooding, worrying himself sick over her prospects and future.
Then the suggestions would start. The introductions to young men she had no interest in meeting. The insistence that Cousin Bess accompany her everywhere.
It was a source of tension between the two of them, which dismayed Charlotte. She wished for nothing but to indulge her endless curiosity, and to know her family was well.
All of her family.
Sometimes it felt as if it had been so long since that fateful year, the last in which her mother could smile, laugh, and breathe easy. If only Charlotte could know whether her spirit was at peace. But the possibility of knowing had never before seemed as far away as it did tonight. For they needed to upend Mr. Bass in order to set Mrs. Stone to rights, and Mr. Bass would never extend another invitation Sir Colin’s way.
On the other hand, judging by how well this impromptu dinner at her house had gone, there would always be room for the affable lieutenant at Ajax Sedley’s table.
Her father’s keen interest in world affairs had been on full display, as he had been a fount of questions all evening long. He’d asked Sir Colin about the Russian meddling in Afghanistan and whether he had ever seen action in Asiatic waters, among many other things. She would not have been surprised had he gone so far as to take notes in one of his small copybooks.
Thankfully, he did not ask just what Sir Colin had been after in attending séances across the city.
Charlotte did her best to hide her embarrassment, and decided instead to relax and enjoy the opportunity to look at Sir Colin—the thickness of his neck, the span of his shoulders, and the bright, coppery color of his hair when the firelight hit it just so. She particularly appreciated his cheekbones and the cut of his jaw; they looked as lovely as they had felt when she’d caressed him.
It became apparent, though, that she had not done a good enough job of concealing her interest in him from her father.
After Sir Colin had made his goodbyes and left, the family’s conversation turned to more mundane topics. Charlotte was contentedly perusing the latest edition ofThe Spiritualistwhen her father caught her unawares.
“I suppose then, after all that, I ought to tell Mr. Simken to shoot off?”
The paper crinkled as she dropped it into her lap.
Her father was watching her intently, his head resting upon one hand, and he made no effort to disguise his smugness.
“Who is Mr. Simken?” Charlotte asked in a bored tone.
“The poet, dear,” her stepmother cut in.
Charlotte lifted the paper again.He knew.Hell and tarnation.
“Well, now,” her father chuckled, “I don’t see why I was worried. Sir Colin is a fine young man. Gregarious. A bit of a gambler, I think, but he can well afford it. Humble, if you could believe it. Must be awfully sick of all the attention; the papers can’t get enough of the lad. They all certainly hold him in high regard. I think Dr. Collier is acquainted with him—I ought to ask. Though… I confess I never would have supposed you a lion hunter.”
“Ajax!”
