Page 73 of Unforeseen Affairs
“I also brought up some food, if you would like.”
“No,” Colin said sadly. “This is all I require, thank you.”
“Very well.”
“We’ll leave at first light. Er… remind me where we are, exactly?”
“Fairhurst. A short distance east of Sheffield.”
The whisper of fabric sliding against something set off a slight panic in his chest. She must be removing a garment. She must mean to sleep. Of course, she would have to. But not here… not with him.
“Right. Sheffield. No doubt we can hire something there. I’ve rested. And now, so shall you.” He cleared his throat as he stared at his own feet, not wishing to turn and leer at her. “I shall sit in the chair while you sleep.”
The rustling paused.
“What? Sit in the chair and keep watch?”
Colin felt his cheeks warm.
“Why not?” he said, knowing full well how ridiculous it sounded.
“The door is in working order. It has a lock.”
“That’s good to hear,” he said, trying not to think of her standing there in her undergarments. He took another sip of tea. It was of poor quality, but Colin had certainly tasted worse. Stores sometimes ran empty at the end of a voyage. If he needed a cup, he’d never turn his nose up at one, regardless of quality.
“So… keep watch for what, pray tell?”
He heard her moving about again, and to his consternation he could not stop imagining her slim, bare arms, wondering how whisper-thin her chemise might be. Heat rushed to his core, hardening his cock.Damn it to hell.He did not need this just now.
“What menace lurks in Fairhurst, I wonder? Footpads? Highwaymen?”
“You’re teasing me.” He frowned at his teacup before taking a generous swallow.
“Of course I am,” she said sternly. “Unless… what about ghosts? Spirits? Perhaps Mr. Bass’s friend, the Frenchman with the halberd in his back, has accompanied us here, seeking to guide us.”
Colin couldn’t help but crack a small smile at the absurd memory.
“I wonder whatever happened to Mr. Trenwith,” she said, pausing to think. “Mr. Bass made him the scapegoat for everything.”
“And removed him from his employ, no doubt,” Colin agreed. “The act of a blackguard.”
He couldn’t imagine ever allowing one of his sailors to be punished for his mistake. Hell, the duty of a commander was to take the blame for their subordinates’ mistakes, for to assume power over someone was to take responsibility for their actions.
“Or… an act of conspiracy,” Charlotte said.
“What?”
“It is possible the entire altercation was another ruse.” She made a slight humming sound as she paused for a moment before adding, “I was not convinced of Mr. Trenwith’s anger. His response felt odd to me.”
“At least, what we saw of it,” Colin muttered before taking another sip. “Are you saying they might have had an arrangement in place? For Mr. Trenwith to take the blame in the event one of their tricks went wrong?”
“I would wager on it. No doubt such an agreement would stipulate that Mr. Bass continue to pay Mr. Trenwith following his apparent dismissal, to prevent his jilted assistant from spilling his secrets.”
Colin considered the idea. It did seem plausible. “I wonder,” he said, feeling more himself with every word, “what ludicrous parlor trick Mr. Bass might have performed next, had you not seized his foot?”
She snorted. He’d never heard that before, and he glanced over his shoulder with a start.
Charlotte stood with her back to him, dressed in a slight chemise and drawers, running a brush through her thick black hair.
