Page 57 of Unforeseen Affairs
But no matter where he went, he could not escape his thoughts of Miss Sedley.
A week had passed since his attempt to quickly deposit her at her family’s home had turned into a spontaneous dinner with them. A week he’d been weathering the storm of dizziness, fighting against the thick heaviness of his head and the fogginess of his mind. A week to dream of her, breathless against the wall with her fingers in his hair and her mouth open to his.
She’d been so pretty that night, in that pale blue dress that tempered her seriousness and made her seem less like a shade and more like a real young lady with enchanting dark eyes and a warm, soft body.
He wished he didn’t want her.
Things would be so much simpler if he didn’t, if he hadn’t finally given in and taken himself in hand one evening while remembering their kiss in the alley, imagining what might have been if he’d been bastard enough to lift her skirts and slide his hand—
A knock upon the door brought Colin back to his senses. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair just before the door opened.
“Yes?” he croaked, before clearing his throat. He had spoken hardly a word out loud all day.
“Ah, so here you are.”
His mother entered, looking over the room as though she were seeing it for the first time. Colin hurriedly stood up. He’d been expecting a servant.
“Mama, I—”
“I was beginning to wonder where you’d gone to.” She swept into the library and motioned for him to sit back down. “I confess, I looked everywhere else in the house when I should have known to come here first.”
“I apologize, Mama, it’s just—”
“Your father thinks I’m coddling you,” she said as she came to a stop before the wide sash window. “Perhaps I am.”
She stared out into the distance, holding her hands loosely before her. Colin knew his mother well, and could see that the sadness about her eyes was more pronounced than usual. She’d been thinking of Bernard. He felt a pang of guilt. With all the madness of the first séance and its fallout, then the spectacle of the second and his untimely fascination with Miss Sedley, he’d neglected his own family.
Neglected his duty.
“It’s your head, darling, isn’t it?”
She would not turn and look at him directly, choosing to train her gaze out the window as intently as if she were counting the chimney pots that dotted the roofs of the houses opposite theirs.
Colin’s throat felt thick and dry. He swallowed, wondering how to answer her.
“Yes,” was all he finally managed. “I did not wish to trouble you with it.”
“Oh Colin, ’tis not a trouble to me.” She smiled sadly. “It is my only wish to see you well and back to yourself.”
Colin shut his eyes.
“Dr. Collier advises me to temper my expectations on that front,” he said. “He says that normalcy may be a long way off, and that actively wishing for it will only hinder my recovery.” He did not want to speak of it so bluntly, but there was no getting around it. He frowned.
Now his mother turned, her expression a pained echo of his.
“And this new doctor, is his judgment sound?”
“Very much so, I’m afraid,” Colin smiled sadly. “He’s a cracking whist partner to boot. Never lost when we’ve teamed up.”
“Perhaps, then, you might consider setting your sights on something more conducive to… recovery.” She said the last word as if it were a taboo, barely above a whisper.
It hurt to hear.
“Something more conducive?”
Suddenly he was a small boy again, being chided for tussling with his brother and upending a side table that held some delicate porcelain ornament.
“Do you know,” his mother said with a sad, but fond, smile, “you are so dear to me. Perhaps if you were to marry, to set up your nursery, you would understand.”
