Page 15 of Unforeseen Affairs (The Sedleys #6)

Colin had known the Sedleys were mad, but he had not expected this one to begin moving full speed ahead so quickly.

When he had first decided to go to the Egyptian Hall after agreeing to help Beaky, he’d done so not with a plan, but merely because it seemed as good a place as any to start, absent a better idea.

He certainly hadn’t expected that, directly after the show, he would find himself in a dark and creaking café, conspiring with another party to bring Thaddeus Taggart Bass low.

Colin had been particularly impressed by Mr. Bass’s elongation trick, for the man seemed to have made himself even larger on stage than he had at his mother’s entertainment.

Though afterward, Miss Sedley had explained the likely method to him as they walked the streets of London on the way to the café—a trumped-up suit of clothing, perhaps with a hidden, telescoping metal frame.

So banal and pathetic, when the curtain was drawn back.

It almost made Colin wish that, despite his dislike for Mr. Bass, the man was actually capable of the real thing.

It was clear there was a lot Colin didn’t understand about spiritualism and stagecraft.

One thing he did understand, though, was how untoward it was to be dragged along to this odd corner of the city by a young lady he was barely acquainted with.

The Cat and Fiddle, the establishment was called, all wood paneling with a rich patina.

They were surrounded by etched glass windows covered in smudges, crooked tables tucked into corners and alcoves, and outdated oil lamps that flickered and sputtered, making the hour seem far later and the setting more mysterious than it actually was.

Miss Sedley, sitting across the table from him, remained inscrutable.

She nursed a pewter tankard of punch, her deep purple get-up making her appear far more serious than a young lady ought to. An ostentatious carnelian hung around her neck in a bizarre setting that recalled a watch fob.

Colin frowned at it.

Her gaze followed his, and she smiled wryly as she set down her drink.

“What is it, Sir Colin? Is this”—she lifted the piece and turned it over showily—“offensive in some way?”

With her gloves set neatly aside, he could see how long and elegant her fingers were.

She was tall for a chit, wasn’t she? Sir Colin thought of how her shoulders had been at a level with his as they’d walked.

His shorter stature had never bothered him that much; after all, he’d the brawn of a young man trained to rig ships and assist in the gun batteries, and his quiet competence and ready attitude had frequently earned him the admiration of able seamen and senior officers.

It was only his lazier peers from whom his height had drawn scorn.

“No,” Colin said, entranced by the way she spun the bauble about with a practiced hand. “It’s just… an interesting item, that’s all.”

“It was my uncle’s.” She lifted it closer to her face, regarding it impassively. “I found it in the attic, with his papers and other assorted effects. Titus Sedley. He died of infection. From an injury sustained in a duel.”

“A duel?” Colin couldn’t help but sound skeptical. “Come now, Miss Sedley. A duel would be absurd in these—”

“It was decades ago. Before I was born. He’d been carrying on with some admiral’s wife.” She raised her brows. “Perhaps one of the Gearings?”

Colin felt his mouth fall open; quickly he shut it again.

“You do have a great number of portraits in your house. I suspect there ought to be an admiral somewhere among them. And it’s only natural to assume at least some of them had wives.”

Colin scoffed. “I should think not,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

Miss Sedley raised an eyebrow. “Really? No wives? How is it that you are sitting here before me, then?”

“No, not… of course they… it just simply isn’t possible.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so thoroughly taken aback.

“Why not?”

Where to begin? She damn well knew this sort of conversation was highly irregular in any company, but he and she were two young people of the opposite sex, neither one married, dining alone! In public, where anyone might see! Did she not possess an ounce of caution?

In addition to that, Colin had never before been presented with even the implication that any Gearing was anything but a paragon of chivalry and honor. He would not hear it.

A wave of lightheadedness washed over him, but he refused to acknowledge it. In his experience that only made it worse. He would not allow Miss Sedley to see him that way.

“Because,” he said curtly, reaching for his own mug of punch, “a Gearing is nothing if not loyal.”

“Is that so? To his wife, as well?”

Something about her eyes twinkled. She was having a go at him, wasn’t she?

“Of course,” he said resolutely, punch in hand. “To one’s country, to one’s commander, to one’s wife. Perhaps above all else.”

He took a determined swig.

Huh , he thought, glancing down at the mug. Miss Sedley had been correct on the way over—this was the best punch he’d ever had in the city. Colin set it down warily. Just what was she about, frequenting establishments such as this? And without a chaperone?

He ought to tread carefully, or this association could stain his hitherto pristine reputation.

She might not have a care for her own, but it very much mattered to him.

Colin recalled Beaky at the Army and Navy Club that morning, slumped atop a table in the Coffee Room.

Face unshaven, cheeks dark and puffy under the eyes.

Utterly defeated. Colin could not allow that to happen to himself, especially as he had to contend with this business about his head.

The specter of Commodore Gearing loomed over him. Some will think you… unfit for service.

Feeling spooked, Colin hastily took another drink.

“My father was not married to my mother,” Miss Sedley said, with something tantamount to glee.

“What?!” Colin coughed down the punch.

“She was an actress,” Miss Sedley said with a shrug. “He fathered me when he was similar to your age. They never married.”

Colin racked his brain for all the Sedleys he’d exchanged pleasantries with at parties.

There weren’t many he could recall specifically, aside from a witty and charming young woman with golden hair and a crusading member of Parliament who was perhaps ten years Colin’s senior.

Neither was a likely candidate to be her sire.

“But you’re—”

“A Sedley? Oh yes, undoubtedly. But my father did not claim me until I was fifteen.”

Egad . Just within the last hour he’d stood before Miss Sedley in the Egyptian Hall, recounting the hateful charges against Beaky, and had gone so far as to say the abandonment of the mother of one’s child was a spectacularly egregious act.

Colin felt the heat of embarrassment prickling across his shoulders.

“I… I did not mean to slander your father, when I spoke of my friend’s own predicament earlier. You must accept my—”

“Your apologies?” Miss Sedley tilted her head. “You promised to never apologize to me again.”

“Yes, for the same transgression twice!” Colin cried out, frustrated and perplexed by this odd and vexing creature. “This one is new. You must allow me to do the decent thing.”

Far too late, he realized someone was standing alongside their table.

“Sir Colin?”

Colin looked up. “Quartermaster Crosby,” he choked out.

“Well met, sir,” Crosby said, glancing at Miss Sedley with curiosity. “I confess I was a bit surprised when I thought I had spied you from over there, but now I see it truly is you.”

Of course a quartermaster could not help but verify his hunch, whether it be with a sextant and a navigational chart or, as in this case, simply his own eyes. Thankfully, the thought of navigation put Colin back in a working mindset, and he settled easily back into the usual talk.

“And how are you getting on? Are you on leave?”

“I’m posted to the Hercules , sailing in a week’s time, sir.”

“Very good,” Colin replied. He lifted his mug and offered a perfunctory toast to the serious young man. “Fair winds and following seas.”

“Appreciate that, sir.”

After an awkward pause, Crosby doffed his hat to the both of them, his gaze lingering on Miss Sedley a little too long. And then, finally, he departed.

Colin blew out a shaky breath.

“You chose not to introduce me,” Miss Sedley stated flatly.

“Of course not! You’re out without a chaperone… with me . You, a pretty young lady with, I assume, decent enough prospects.” Colin shook his head, thoroughly exasperated. “Have a care for yourself! Why, you act as if you don’t…”

Good god, was she smiling now? Of all the things…

“Be serious, Miss Sedley! What if it hadn’t been Crosby, but a… a… a lieutenant! Or a commander! Someone acquainted with your father or mother! Someone I would have no choice but to introduce you to, lest I greatly insult them!”

Miss Sedley shrugged, then took another sip of her punch.

He sighed and shook his head.

“And with what I had said just prior… I’ve no doubt he heard me.”

“What did you say? I don’t recall.”

Colin shielded his eyes with one hand before repeating himself in a low, hollow voice: “You must allow me do the decent thing.”

“Oh. That.” She hummed slightly, thinking. “Yes, I can see how that could be misconstrued.”

Colin’s face heated; he prayed Crosby would forget the entire debacle. Why, if his mother were to get word… or Alice…

“Shall we get on with it, then?” Miss Sedley stared at him, her expression irritatingly placid.

Colin calmed himself with a deep breath, and tried to return his train of thought to the original purpose of their meeting.

“You said you wished for the, er… ‘complete and utter ruination of Mr. Bass.’” Repeating her words back to her gave him a little thrill. He’d never embarked upon anything on land that felt so exciting.

“Yes.”

“Before we get underway, may I inquire as to why?”

“No.”