Page 71 of Unforeseen Affairs
She studied him, perhaps detecting his lie, but she merely nodded.
“Right. We’re in luck. There is a private room upstairs.”
Relief melted through him. He could finally lie down and—
“Wait,” he said. “Aroom? Just one?”
Miss Sedley’s eyes darted to the side, where the owner was scribbling in a ledger atop the tall wooden counter.
“Yes, just one.” She raised her voice slightly, and affected a syrupy tone that did not match the intense warning on her face.“It shall be quaint, and rather cozy—a charming place for you to have a bit of rest. Don’t you think,husband?”
Ah. So that was the way of it. Colin nodded; all the fight had gone from him.
“Good,” she said through clenched teeth.
The innkeeper did not look up.
As soon as he entered the upstairs room he shucked off his jacket, not caring where it fell to. He collapsed on the bed, trying not to notice that it was the only furniture in the tiny room aside from a caned chair and a feeble washstand. The entire world swung about him with each turn of his head, and his scalp crawled as though it wished to detach itself from his skull. He fell back, grateful to be safely hidden from the public streets, even if it had to be in here. He shut his eyes. The swaying, thankfully, was less violent now than when it had first struck him on the train, but he knew it would linger for hours.
Something tugged at his shoe and he recoiled, yanking his leg back.
“Sir Colin!” Miss Sedley admonished. “Calm yourself! You cannot keep… jerking about.”
He did his best to relax and allowed her to lift his foot and untie the laces.
“Thrashing about cannot be good for your ailment. At least, I would have to assume, since you have not said two words about what exactly it is,” she hissed.
“No, you’re right,” he admitted with remorse. How to explain it to her? How to put into words just what tormented him without being marked as foolish? Or, as his father had all but said, completely mad?
Colin felt her slide the shoe off, heard it fall to the floor with a thud. Gently, she set his foot down and lifted the other.
Perhaps Miss Sedley would understand.
She didn’t seem to be one to judge, except when it came to false, underhanded individuals like Mr. Bass. Indeed, she spoke of peculiar characters like Mrs. Stone with an even-handed, straightforward kindness. Colin rolled to one side, not wishing her to see the pain in his face when he spoke. He took a deep breath, then began to speak of the worst, most hateful thing about himself.
“Sometimes I feel as if my head is too heavy, as if I cannot keep upright for fear of falling… and then I just…”
Fall to pieces.
Her fingers slowed, their touch soft against his ankle.
“It began at sea, a little over a year ago. It just happened one day, without warning, for no apparent reason. I thought I’d a fever. But the medical officer told me I was right as rain, even though it took me a week to get my sea legs back. I felt… it was terrifying, not knowing what was happening. And then, just when I was finally starting to feel myself, it happened again. And then again. And I knew I could not remain on the water. Not like that… like this. My parents think me mad.”
Slowly she slid his other shoe off. He heard her set it on the ground—gently this time, rather than drop it.
“And now…” He didn’t want to say it aloud. Because that would make it real. But he had to. Miss Sedley deserved the entire truth. “Now I wonder if I will ever return. I… I could remain this way and never recover. Broken and on half-pay. Forever.”
The ensuing silence was the hollowest, most sorrowful thing Colin had ever heard.
There it all was, laid out in plain, terrifying English.
He might never be himself again. Might never set foot on a ship, let alone receive promotion. His father would disown him. His mother would put on a good face, but secretly despair. Colin shut his eyes tighter. It ought to be him—not his brother—deadat the bottom of the ocean, picked apart by whatever strange, unknowable creatures lived in the depths.
“Colin…” Miss Sedley started. Her voice was so gentle, so soothing.
“Colin. You called me that on the bench at the station,” he cut her off, sounding angrier than he was. “Why do you keep referring to me so familiarly?”
He felt her rise from the bed, and he wanted to sit up and reach for her, to pull her back against him and embrace her. But he couldn’t. He could barely handle just lying down, his eyes shut to the world as it spun around him.
