Page 23 of Unforeseen Affairs
In the turmoil, Beaky had been cast from the room by a furious Captain Pearce.
Colin followed him, not knowing what to think. A woman? And an infant, so real Colin had heard it with his own ears? It would be absolutely shocking if true.
Miss Sedley certainly hadn’t put much stock in Mr. Bass’s abilities. What was it she’d whispered to him, about invisible wires and all that? He’d thrown her a fraught look as everything went to shambles; she had stared back at him with those uncannily dark eyes and the slightest hint of a grin on her lips. As if she were having a lovely time.What went on in that one’s head?Colin wondered, his own head on a swivel as he tore through the halls of his family’s home.And what must she think of us all?And then, surprisingly,What must she think of me?
He frowned at the unexpectedness of the last question. He couldn’t think on that now—Sir Colin was never one to leave a man behind.
Holding his breath, he poked his head into his father’s study. Thankfully, Beaky was not within, and Colin released a deep sigh as he resumed his search.
He finally located his best mate, catching him in the act of raiding the drinks cabinet in the library. Beaky must have heard Colin’s approach, for his posture tightened even though he did not turn around.
“Gin?” Beaky asked casually, as if he weren’t offering Colin his own liquor.
Colin frowned.
“Is it true?”
Beaky finished pouring himself a hearty portion, at least three fingers. He took a long swallow, then stared at the tumbler in his hand for several moments.
“Do you believe it?”
Colin felt a flash of panic, as if a mortar had been unexpectedly fired next to him.
For some reason, Colin recalled the two of them many years prior—newly ensigned, standing upon the deck of their ship in harbor. They’d been so proud to don the uniform, to wear a midshipman’s dirk at the hip. Already grown men in their own estimation.
“No,” he belatedly replied.
And then, as if to both convince himself and strengthen the brotherly bond between them, he added, perhaps too heartedly, “Of course not. Absolute bollocks. That man—Mr. Bass—why, he could have been speaking of anyone. From any point in history!”
A slow grin spread across Beaky’s face.
“Can you imagine it? Me, fathering a child? Why, I’m nearly a child myself.”
Colin began to protest, but Beaky went on.
“Still only a lieutenant, anyway,” he said, his tone harsher now. He collapsed in a chair and took another hearty swig. “No time for romance and all that bosh,” he continued, running a hand through his hair. “A wife… a nursery… I shudder to think.”
Colin had a thought, though. He felt uncomfortable even entertaining it, but given the circumstances, he could not let it go unsaid.
“But, ah…” Colin began walking across the room, arms crossed, brow furrowed. “Romance need not be a prerequisite for fathering a child.”
Cunt and gunpowder. Suddenly he felt ashamed once again that Miss Sedley had heard him utter those words.
“Oh,” Beaky sighed, looking very low. “Fucking, you mean.”
Colin colored. It was an involuntary reaction; he couldn’t help that he shared the same complexion as every other person with red hair. But Beaky took umbrage.
“Come off it, Colin. There’s no captain here, no one’s approval to seek,” he groused. “No merits to win for refusing to lift the skirts of a pretty face.”
Tumbler at his lips, Beaky murmured, “How very much like aspaniel.”
It was a wonder how, after so many years, the childish taunt could knock the wind from Colin’s lungs. He balled his hands into fists and steadied himself. It was only meant as a jest, he knew.
“At any rate,” Beaky groaned, throwing his head back into the armchair, “my mother will never see reason.”
Colin froze. If Mrs. Pearce would insist on taking the medium’s words at face value, then Colin’s own mother would as well. Which meant—
“How does she fare, anyway?”
