Page 66 of Unforeseen Affairs
Colin grimaced at that memory, and at the memory of his last breakfast with Beaky. His former friend had made his lack of respect for Colin quite clear, and though he’d done a marginally better job of concealing his envy, that was laid bare enough as well. Colin could not think of Lieutenant Pearce without feeling pained and foolish.
He had worried on more than one occasion that Miss Sedley might think him akin to Beaky, a rogue of the highest order. But even if she did, they were still here, together. For whatever that counted for. He wished he knew her mind, that she might speak in ways other than veiled riddles or emotionless statements of fact.
“Are you certain you wish to go through with this?” he asked, in a final attempt to spare them both whatever trouble they were sure to soon find themselves in, not to mention his head.
If they were to board together, there would be no going back, no returning to the lives they’d previously led. He might lose any chance of ever seeing her again after this, were he to tarnish both of their reputations and alienate himself from her entire family.
“Yes. Absolutely,” Miss Sedley said, her gaze trained upon the rail porter as he shouted out instructions to those assembled on the platform.
So be it.
Colin tightened his grip on the slight valise she’d brought along. Once they’d boarded and settled into their first-class compartment, he took more care than necessary in placing it atop the gilt rack alongside his own half-filled sea bag. Doing his best to ground himself in the present, he paid more attention to the mounted photographs—one of the seaside, another of an impressively tall trestle—than he would under normal circumstances. He ran a hand along the expensive hardwood paneling, remarking idly on the finer quality of materials in their compartment as compared to the rest of the train.
Miss Sedley did not respond, and Colin sat down across from her.
After a few more minutes of restless anticipation, the dreaded moment finally arrived, and the train lurched forward. For a few seconds Colin’s head felt disconnected from his body, unable to catch up with the car’s movement. But then he shut his eyes and, to his immense relief, the feeling subsided.
Perhaps he might manage this after all.
As much as he tried to encourage himself, he was afraid to open his eyes. He remained still, doing all he could to think of anything but the awkward swaying and unpredictable jerking of the rail car.
If Colin had known that it might one day lead to this condition of his, Colin would have done everything he could—run awayfrom home, if necessary—to avoid following in the family tradition of joining the Royal Navy.
No.
No, he wouldn’t have, he bloody well knew. Colin would die in the name of duty to his country. That value had been instilled in him since he was old enough to speak.
But was this trap he found himself in not worse than death, during the times when its iron jaws closed around his brain? He sometimes felt as though it might be.
He did his best to think of the open sea—not of the motion, but of the wind in his face, his hair rough in the salt air. It had been one of Dr. Collier’s suggestions, to call to mind that which he found most soothing when the compulsion to ruminate struck. Time passed, and Colin did his best to focus on the allure of the unending ocean, the cries of gulls and terns gliding around his ship.
“Is it the motion that distresses you?”
The sound of Miss Sedley’s voice caught him off his guard, and he felt a bolt of panic. He swallowed, and gave himself a moment to calm down before answering.
“It is nothing.”
“Mrs. Stone is similar. She rarely opens her eyes in a carriage.”
Thankfully, carriages didn’t upset Colin’s head enough to put him off them. He decided not to answer, lest it invite more comparisons between him and the fragile and eccentric Mrs. Stone. He didn’t like the idea of being painted with the same brush.
“Are you sure you’re quite well? I could fetch you something from the dining car if you—”
“No, thank you,” he managed to say. “I am perfectly at ease.”
“Only it’s been some time since we departed London,” Miss Sedley replied, a note of concern in her voice.
With his eyes shut to the world and his mind set on the open ocean, he wasn’t sure just how much time had passed. With a deep breath he opened his eyes, starting at the sight of Miss Sedley’s drawn brows.
Quickly she relaxed her features, and Colin wondered if he’d imagined the concern there.
He turned to peer out the window. The grays of London were nowhere to be seen; the landscape was greener, and the air looked clearer. If he had to guess, he supposed they were over halfway there. The thought bolstered him.Not much farther to go.
When he glanced back at Miss Sedley, she was watching him from underneath those thick lashes with a penetrating gaze. She did not look away when their eyes met; there was nothing in her expression but open curiosity.
It felt comforting, in a way, being considered thusly. After a long moment he wondered if he might speak, but could not think of what to say.
Finally, she did instead.
