Page 107 of Unforeseen Affairs
“But,” he began cautiously, “that is what makes it so precious.”
She turned and looked at him, her eyes glinting with more tears. Colin had once been somewhat annoyed by her height, that she needed only look straight ahead to meet his gaze.
Now, though, it seemed perfect.
With a gentle hand, he cupped her cheek and brushed away the stray tear.
“I saw her, and I thought… but it was so fleeting.” Her words were cut off by a sob, and another tear spilled forth. “If only… if only I could…” She swallowed miserably, then shook her head. “What are we to do, then?”
“There’s nothing to do but live.”
He half-expected her to scoff, then settle back into her usual aloofness.
But she didn’t. She watched him, her eyes filled with all the hope that Colin felt in himself.
“But what shall we do about your head?”
Colin laughed softly.
“I don’t know.” He placed his other hand gently upon her injured arm and caressed her. “But we shall figure it out together.”
She kept her eyes on his; he could feel her searching for any shred of hesitation or uncertainty. But he knew she would find none.
Colin waited a moment, then gathered Charlotte in his arms and kissed her.
A chorus of youthful shouts rang out.
Colin didn’t let go.
Epilogue
London, April 1879
“No,no,”Mrs.Colliertutted as she swept forward, her elegant gown spun with an open black lace that more than hinted at spiderwebs. “Our prophetess does not wish for the doors to be shut. Ajar is best, I’m told.”
The footman blinked. He looked questioningly at Charlotte, then back again at Mrs. Collier.
Mrs. Cressida Collier might have shed her lofty title when she married far beneath her station to a humble, middle-class doctor, but nothing could take away her grace and elegance.
Or her hauteur.
“Goodness, what is it with you spiritualists and doors?” she said with a laugh, placing a soft hand upon Charlotte’s arm. “I believe I’ve spent more time considering portals in the past week than I ever had in my entire life.”
Charlotte did not take offense. “Not open,” she said to the footman. “Ajar.”
“Right, ma’am,” he said with a nod.
He nodded to Mrs. Collier as well, then turned and went about positioning each of the four sets of doors, one on each wall, just slightly open.
“Now, Mrs. Gearing, you’ll have to indulge my—”
“It’s for the spirits,” Charlotte said, not caring to talk about whatever tidbit of gossip Mrs. Collier was angling after. “That they might leave if they feel it necessary.”
“Beg pardon?” Mrs. Collier asked, a skeptical look upon her very pretty, still rather youthful face. Charlotte supposed Mrs. Collier must be nearly twice her age, but she still looked very much the lovely and charming society hostess Charlotte knew she used to be.
“If they are spirits,” Mrs. Collier said with a half-grin, “can they not simply… flit away through the walls?”
Charlotte looked back over her shoulder, searching for Mrs. Stone. She spotted her in one corner of the room, flanked by Colin and his mother. Her father-in-law, Commodore Gearing, had cried off the affair, despite the allure of an invitation from Mrs. Collier. Charlotte imagined the man had endured enough Sedleys to last him several years, after he’d sat through both the wedding service and breakfast with a look of stoic resignation. Not to mention that soon afterward he’d practically erupted when Colin informed him that he’d not be returning to sea. Charlotte had accompanied him to that meeting, doing all she could to silently bolster her husband. In the end, though, he hadn’t needed it; his mettle had proven more than enough.
