Page 58 of Unforeseen Affairs
“Lieutenants shouldn’t—” he began to recite, but she cut him off again.
“I know, darling, I know. But you’ve been knighted now. Surely that’s enough to make one’s career? You’ve quite the fortune with the prize money. If your head will not cooperate, I don’t see the need to—”
“Cooperate?” Colin stood up, heart pounding as if he had just come under fire.
“Calm down, darling, calm down! Recall, your head!”
She hurried over to him, and with a gentle hand upon his shoulder, eased him back into his seat.
It was worse than if he were just a lad being scolded. He was now an angry, ill-tempered lad being cosseted and soothed after he’d carried on. He burned with shame. The shame of being the lesser son, the overeager midshipman… the naïve, accidental hero.
“It’s only just…” Her voice wavered. “Perhaps it would not be such a bad thing, retiring.” She patted his shoulder maternally. “There are other young ladies out there besides Miss Pearce, you know.”
He set his jaw. “There is no understanding between Miss Pearce and I.”
It felt terribly harsh to say it aloud.
“Well, I am glad to hear it,” his mother said. “Of course, not that there is anythingwrongwith Miss Pearce, but… it could not be borne, the association. Not with her brother and all that nasty business.”
She patted his shoulder again—nervously, hesitantly this time. Colin reached up and placed a calming hand upon hers even as his mind took off racing, recalling Miss Pearce and Beaky and his own failures and the feel of Miss Sedley’s lips.
Could he do nothing right? He still rose early every morning, as he had while at sea. He still was the same Colin, the same young man who clung to his rules, desperate for a routine.
And yet, now there was nothing for him to achieve. Not since he’d lucked into the thing that had earned him all his notoriety, which he still could not make heads or tails of. He’d only done what was necessary, to the best of his abilities. And now all he wished for was to return to a normal career. To no longer be recognized and admired, but simply do his part as a cog in a greater machine.
It seemed cruel, the idea of giving it all up, and he not even near thirty. That shame rose within him once more, bilious and vile.
“Do rest up, darling,” his mother said, with one more desultory pat on the shoulder before drawing away. “By the by, these came for you today. I figured I’d bring them up to you.”
She produced two small letters, peering closely at them before placing them before him on the library table.
One he recognized instantly as Beaky’s handwriting. The other was unfamiliar to him. His heart leaped. He reached for the mystery envelope with an eagerness that startled him. So much so that he froze, then slowly drew his hand back.
“Thank you, Mama,” he said, donning his warmest smile.
She glanced back at the letters, her gaze lingering upon them before looking back to him with a cheerful grin of her own.
“Of course. Try not to fret overmuch.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, but she’d already turned to leave.
He stared at the envelope addressed in the unfamiliar hand, the letters long and spindly, curling haphazardly about the paper.
He snatched it the instant the door shut. It was a brief missive, with no salutation beyond his name written on the outside.
Shall we continue our partnership? If so, let us meet. Preparations for the next operation are already underway.
The usual place. Tomorrow afternoon.
Then, with neither flourish nor any regards, she’d simply signed her first name.
–Charlotte
Not Miss Sedley. Charlotte. He repeated it to himself, wondering how it might feel upon his lips to address her as such.Then to tuck a lock of that silky hair behind her ear, to trace the line of her neck with his fingers…
He folded the letter, suddenly aware of how rapidly his chest was rising and falling.
Fool.
