Page 17 of Unforeseen Affairs (The Sedleys #6)

Colin had managed to avert a debilitating dizzy spell, but the shadow of one remained with him throughout the evening.

His head felt full, with a pressure pushing from the inside out that, while relatively painless, made him feel disconnected from his body.

It was discombobulating enough that he found himself wishing instead for the sharp, simple cut of a blade or the pounding ache of a blunt force blow.

Pain like that was straightforward, and easily explained to others.

This kind, on the other hand, was nigh inconceivable to anyone who had not suffered from it themselves; his father extended him no sympathy, and Colin could sense frustration from his mother as well.

She fretted over him, but he could tell that the entire thing made her leery and confused.

Attempting to make someone understand and empathize with this strange, unsettling feeling that repeatedly materialized in him, as if from thin air?

It made him want to dig a hole in the ground and hide until he somehow, finally, felt himself again.

It was terribly lonely.

So, one step at a time, he trudged to St. James’s and through the welcoming doors of the Army and Navy Club, colloquially known as the Rag. Gaming always put Colin in a good mind, and he hoped to find some decent stakes within.

Instead, though, he found Beaky, halfway soused, tucked in a corner upon the landing. He was slouched against a wall underneath the bust of some long-gone officer, his bearing sloppy as he watched people ascend and descend the main stairs. His eyes looked tired.

It was enough to make Colin feel ashamed of his own self-pity.

“What’s all this?” he said, forcing a jovial tone as he approached his downtrodden friend. “Any reason you’re hanging about the stairs?”

“Commodore Gearing,” Beaky announced, “is dining at the moment. I’ve decided it better to loiter here for the better part of an hour like some penniless cadger rather than endure his judgmental glare.”

“I see.” Colin glanced away from him, toward the opposite wall with its massive oil painting of Wellington astride his horse.

It did somewhat lessen the benefits of membership at the Rag, when one could not escape the stifling presence of one’s own father. Given the way military service tended to run in families, though, Colin knew he was far from the first person to think so.

“Anyway, what does it matter what he thinks?” his friend continued. “Everyone’s going to find out anyway, and when they do, I’ll never find a ship again, never get a promotion. And all for the curse of being named Abdon. What a bunch of rot.” He spat the last words as if they’d a foul taste.

“On that matter, I might have some news.”

“Oh?” Beaky straightened up. “Well, let’s hear it, then.”

Colin looked at Beaky’s loosely tied neckcloth and limp collar.

The lapels of his jacket were soiled with some kind of powdery substance.

He looked careless, like some louse or rake.

It didn’t suit an officer representing the Royal Navy.

Colin was about to offer his handkerchief, perhaps with a word or two of encouragement, but Beaky was in a foul mood, and Colin had no desire to be called a spaniel again.

So he squared his shoulders and smoothed out his own front instead.

“I’ve enlisted an ally in an attempt to ferret out Mr. Bass and expose him as a fraud.”

“Why, that’s topping!” Beaky brightened instantly and dragged himself to his feet. “Who, then?”

“Another spiritualist.”

“What a lad! What a chum!” Beaky slapped a hand upon Colin’s shoulder. “What’s his name, then? Is he on a level with that Bass bastard?”

Not quite .

“I can’t really say,” Colin tried, “as I’m new to this world myself.”

Beaky’s smile faded, his expression tightening.

“What’s his name, though?”

“It’s a young lady, actually. You met—”

With a groan Beaky brought a hand to his forehead rather dramatically, further mussing his fine, fair hair.

“Miss Sedley,” Colin kept on, his voice stronger as he recalled the determination in her bearing. “You met her at the spirit circle, the reserved young lady who sat at the end with myself and Mrs. Stone.”

“Her?” Beaky wrinkled his nose. “The girl in black? You can’t be serious. I tried introducing myself and she merely stared at my hand as if it were riddled with pox.”

Colin suppressed a grin; he was glad she’d never looked at him that way.

A pair of Army officers passed by, nodding in greeting.

He and Beaky responded in kind, then allowed a silence to settle upon them as they both realized they’d been speaking quite loudly in a highly trafficked area of the club.

It didn’t help that the main hall, with its high ceiling, enabled sound to travel so far.

After a while Beaky sighed.

“It’s not that I’m ungrateful, Colin. I am undoubtedly indebted to you. But I wish you’d kept this matter between us. There’s no need to go informing every girl in London of my scandalous past.”

“ Allegedly scandalous,” Colin corrected.

“Right, yes.” Beaky reached inside his breast pocket. “And besides, she’s a Sedley? Those people are mad, hang their shoe polish! I doubt a girl that strange and unpleasant could provide any meaningful assistance to you.”

He’d withdrawn a small sealed letter and was fidgeting with it, turning it over in his hands as he scrutinized Colin. Suddenly he froze, and raised a brow.

“Unless you…” His face darkened. “You wouldn’t do that to Alice, would you? With her ? That ghoulish—”

“She’s not ghoulish,” Colin said, offended on behalf of Miss Sedley. “And she’s not unpleasant. Not every young lady ought to swoon when presented with your hand.”

“No need to get sharpish,” Beaky admonished. “I’m only looking after Alice’s interests, as any brother would.”

He held the letter out to Colin.

“She’s written this to you. I really ought not give it to you, but she fain begged me.”

Colin snatched it. His body felt coiled and tense, being at odds with his best friend like this. It would not do. He looked down at his name written in Alice’s soft hand, tiny and rounded. Charming, just as she was.

He sighed and shook his head.

“I do not wish to fight you. I only mean to help.”

Beaky scrubbed a hand over the lower half of his face.

“I know.”

Colin fingered the seal on the letter. He hadn’t seen Alice since the spirit circle, having stayed away for the sake of his mother, who’d been aghast to discover that Beaky was of such low character. Since then she hadn’t even spoken to Mrs. Pearce, who was one of her closest friends.

“I can’t recall the last time you spoke ill of a young lady,” Colin said, offering a small smile. “Usually it’s quite the contrary.”

“Yes, isn’t it?” Beaky snorted. “I suppose in Miss Sedley’s case I might be compelled, were she not so rigid and stern-faced. They’re all the same under their skirts, after all.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Colin said abruptly.

Beaky’s eyes widened, then narrowed, as if he were trying to figure just what Colin was about.

But even Colin did not know—he only knew that he could not bear to hear his friend slander the odd young lady, nor to think of Beaky considering her with such vulgarity. It started the pressure building in his head again, as if it were a waterskin filled to the brim.

“It’s not becoming of a lieutenant,” Colin warned in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Beaky’s nose twitched ever so slightly. He hadn’t liked that.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t seemed to like much of what Colin had to say in recent times, going back to around when he’d been knighted.

Wishing to avoid any further locking of horns, Colin gave Beaky a half-hearted salute and made his departure. He descended the stairs with Alice’s letter tucked safely in his breast pocket. When he reached the bottom, he turned and glanced up.

Beaky had slouched against the wall again, hands in his pockets.

In that instant, a flicker of doubt crossed Colin’s mind. But he refused to entertain it. He refused to believe it of a naval officer, especially one he’d known since they were lads.

Instead he entered the library annex, Alice’s letter foremost in his mind. The library wasn’t crowded at this hour, when most members were at dinner—or sulking in the halls.

Usually he would find a nice spot at one of the tables below the windows overlooking the gardens, but in the gentle lamplight he instead took a seat near an interior wall, at a desk stocked with stationery and writing implements.

It was a fair distance from the library’s only other occupant, an elderly man with wiry white whiskers and spectacles who was poring over a stack of Army and Navy Gazettes . He paid Colin no mind.

Trying not to think of Beaky staring at Miss Sedley’s skirts, Colin broke the seal and began to read.

Dearest Colin,

Can you believe it’s now been weeks since we last saw each other?

I scarcely could myself, but my brother assures me it is true.

Mama has been in a state, and Papa too. Neither wishes to go out, or even have entertainment here, and I confess things have been dull beyond what I ever thought possible.

It has assured me that I could never go to sea like you and Abdon.

Truthfully, I wonder why anyone would, given the choice.

I think, were I a young man, I should much rather do something regular, and upon land.

Something with excitement! Perhaps the Army. Oh, if I could see your face at THAT!

Alice was the daughter of a captain, the sister of a lieutenant.

She ought to know how these things went, rather than tease.

Colin raised a brow. He had been hoping for a different sort of missive than this.

They’d never made any promises to each other, but he’d believed she harbored some feeling for him.