Page 51 of Unforeseen Affairs
There’s so much more to him, she realized. Such a depth below the easy manner, handsome smile, and keen, eager eyes. Beyond the upstanding reputation. He was a man who felt strongly and acted morally. And not out of mere obligation—out of simple goodness. But now he’d retreated to an unreachable place, and she’d no power to draw him out. And Mr. Bass would soondepart the city for his next stop in Manchester. This had been their last chance to achieve their joint purpose.
She realized she’d likely not see Sir Colin again after tonight.
A curious ache seized her heart.
“I will deliver you home; that is, if you wish it. But if not…” He swallowed, shamefaced. “If not, then please allow me, at the very least, to hail you a hack.”
“Home?”
As part of the plan, they’d agreed upon Mrs. Stone’s shop as their rendezvous location. Well, Sir Colin had insisted upon it, not wishing to set tongues wagging and risk Charlotte’s reputation. For her part, her wish to escape notice was not born out of propriety.
“Yes,” he said gruffly. “I’ve been remiss, lackadaisical. I ought to at least deliver you safely to your father and mother.”
“Stepmother,” she corrected.
The horse in the mews whinnied again.
They regarded one another in silence. Charlotte wished desperately that she’d a shred of Mrs. Stone’s talent just now, so she could perceive whatever thoughts or emotions he might be telegraphing. What must be going through his head as he stood there, so taciturn and controlled?
Perhaps he wished he hadn’t kissed her. The thought was gutting.
No, she wouldn’t believe it. He thought her pretty and charming, after all—he’d admitted it to her, several times. She instinctively reached for the watch fob she wore around her neck, to feel the cool, familiar, soothing weight of it.
He turned away from her again.
She could hear a pair of drunkards in the distance, singing in the street.
When Sir Colin spoke again, the anguish in his voice was so acute that even the dullest, most unseeing person would mark it.
“You placed your trust in me and I failed to earn it. I truly am sorry, Miss Sedley.”
“No,” she said, as firmly as she could.
He turned back again, looking as though he wished to close the distance between them but was unable to take a single step.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I refuse to accept failure. This is merely a temporary setback.”
“A temporary setback?” He frowned. “But—”
“And,” she continued as she moved assuredly toward him, “you promised you would stop apologizing to me more than once for the same transgression.”
He eyed her warily as she approached.
Charlotte halted an arm’s length from him, not wishing to spook the poor man.
“Now, Sir Colin,” she said, puffing out her chest as she drew herself up to her full height. “Take me home.”
He stared at her as though she were a venomous viper, coiled about a tree branch in some far-flung jungle. For a moment her resolve faltered. She thought of the sweet, ingratiating Miss Pearce, and the way she’d fawningly hung from Sir Colin’s arm. But then she recalled his look of discomfort under such cloying attention, and she held steady. She could be patient.
On occasion.
Finally, Sir Colin extended his arm, his allegiance to duty and protocol winning in the end. Charlotte placed a gentle hand upon his elbow. She must be prudent now, and try to forget the urgency and heat of their shared kiss.
For she very much wished to do it again.
This was insanity.
