Page 69 of Unforeseen Affairs
Charlottebarelynoticedtheslowing of the train, or even that they were arriving at a small, nondescript station. She was in a state of panic, kneeling on the compartment floor with her skirts in a tangle about her, her hands gripping so tightly onto Sir Colin’s arms that she was sure she was bruising him.
He could not speak, only gasp in shallow breaths and shake his headyesorno.
“What is wrong?” she said, her voice quavering. “Are you ill?”
With a massive heave, the train came to a stop.
Sir Colin’s entire body shook, almost echoing the machine’s movement.
“Colin,” she pleaded, now stroking his arm with one hand. “We’ve stopped. Ought we get off, and find you a physician?”
He drew a shuddering breath and looked up, scrubbing his face with his hands as he stared out the window to the plain and empty platform outside. He looked terrible, with a gray pallor and wide, empty eyes.
“I’ll manage.”
No, said a tiny voice in her head.I won’t allow this. We can stop this.No longer was she a child, standing by helplessly while her mother was ailing. She made the decision.
“Come on, then,” she said, taking his hand with a sudden certainty.
It took some doing, but she managed to fetch her valise, his loose canvas bag, and his hat with her free hand, holding onto each item with just one or two fingers apiece.
He said nothing, only allowed her to lead him along as she charged out the tiny compartment door and into the hall. The rest of the passengers who were disembarking had already done so, and the whistle cried, sending her heartbeat into her throat. But she pressed on, squeezing Sir Colin’s hand as she made for the exit.
He squeezed back, faintly.
The car attendant seemed taken aback as they approached, but he reopened the door he had just closed, then desultorily tipped his hat.
And then they were out, onto the platform and away from the now chugging locomotive, where they found refuge on a small green bench. The great mechanical beast bellowed, and an expulsion of steam clouded the entirety of the small station.
Charlotte sat next to Sir Colin, holding him up with one arm around his shoulders. As the train began to slowly pull away, the tension in her body released slightly, and her breath came easier.
Sir Colin muttered something, but she could not hear over the noise.
They sat as if in a trance, watching as the train left and slowly faded into the distance until they could neither see nor hear it any longer.
More minutes passed. Gradually the silence became less deafening, and Charlotte returned to herself.
Fairhurst, the station placard read. They were stranded in a small village, by the look of it.
Eventually, Sir Colin spoke.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice weak and uncertain.
She felt him clench under her hold, and her heart sank. Biting her lip, she drew away and slid to one side of the bench, leaving a space between them.
“I… I apologize. I realize, I ought to have been honest.” He locked his hands behind his neck. “In this, at the very least.”
He looked broken. He was hunched over, elbows upon his knees, head hung between them. Even his thick, bright hair seemed dull and worn out.
“Itisthe motion,” she stated, calm but stern.
“Yes, that exacerbates it, and yet…” He released a long, shuddering sigh.
She waited patiently for him to finish, but the rest of the sentence fell away. He looked exhausted and, perhaps, ashamed.
A railway porter approached, pushing an empty luggage cart, but he didn’t spare so much as a glance their way as he passed. And then they were alone again, two marooned travelers on a small bench in an empty railway station.
In Fairhurst.
