Page 20 of Unforeseen Affairs (The Sedleys #6)

“Everything,” she whispered.

“Everything?”

“Our purpose.” She held his gaze, her body crackling with excitement. “Our place in this world and the next. The nature of man and the vast, uncharted potential of our minds. What exists beyond these decaying, corporeal vessels…”

She trailed off mid-thought. He was staring at her.

Charlotte wet her lips before closing them tightly.

If she’d been raised more conventionally, perhaps she would apologize for voicing such expansive thoughts.

She thought of her mother, of how Charlotte would lie in her tiny trundle bed and listen to her mother sing to herself in the evenings as she unpinned her hair.

Sometimes the memories were so real she felt she could simply close her eyes and be back there once more.

“I think I know what you’re after,” Sir Colin said, his voice gentle.

His hands resumed their work, tightly twisting the tangle of straw until it resembled a short piece of cordage.

“It’s akin to sailing. Exploring the ocean.” He pursed his lips, his brows knit. “The scale of it is unfathomable. Who can say what secrets lie hidden in its depths?”

A faint flush returned to his face; he kept his eyes on the cord of straw in his hands.

“That part of it I always loved. Being on the water, with not a speck of land to be seen in any direction. Floating atop this vast unknown, where nearly anything at all could happen.”

His jaw flexed.

He had said he’d no posting, no ship. And now he spoke of sailing as if it were a distant memory and not his current profession.

Charlotte had wondered about it before, but now it hooked her attention.

What secrets did he keep beneath his genial facade?

What bound him to the shore? A love? A worry?

Something stemming from his mother’s grief over the loss of his brother?

Or was it something else entirely?

“And yet you are here,” she observed softly.

“On half-pay,” he added flatly. “For over a year now.”

She could ask why. But she supposed he would not give her a straight answer, despite his honest nature. Instead she crossed the room and took the bit of straw—now a small, rough scrap of rope—from his hands.

“Well done, you,” she said as she examined it closely. “You’re rather capable at most things you set your mind to, I suspect.”

“Do you think?” He smiled shyly.

Charlotte closed her hand around the scratchy thing before returning to the ostensible subject at hand.

“I think I should present myself as your distant relation,” she said. “Should we say a cousin?”

“What?” He brushed his hands off, brows furrowed. “Oh. You mean when we attend this next… séance affair.”

They stood awfully close now, less than an arm’s length apart. His hair was such a nice color—a rich, deep, orange-red that shone like the setting sun when the light hit it just right.

“Us, related?” He grinned now. “I don’t think we’d fool many, with your… well. My hair so…” He gestured to himself. “And yours so…” He paused, his gaze running up and down her.

Charlotte wished he would say she was pretty again. It was remarkable how easily one could succumb to flattery.

“So dark,” he finished quietly.

A silent tension descended over them. Charlotte’s heart thudded. This time she was affected enough to lower her eyes.

After a few breaths he spoke again.

“Shall we say neighbors?”

“Neighbors?”

“Yes,” Sir Colin said hurriedly. “I’ll simply introduce you as my neighbor with an interest in the occult, hence why I extended the invitation.”

“Do not say ‘occult,’” Charlotte said.

“Alright, sorry. Spiritualism, then.”

She tilted her head, considering. A thought came to her of Miss Alice Pearce, nearly swallowed by a swirl of lace and the neat rows of curls framing her face. Of her hand placed possessively over Sir Colin’s.

“No. Not neighbor. We shall say I’m the younger sister of a friend.”

“Younger sister—”

Charlotte nodded.

“But, the Sedleys,” he said with a frown. “Friends with my family?”

“Why not?”

“Well, I mean…” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck like some bashful lad. “I’m sure Mr. Bass would be surprised to hear such a thing. Everyone has seen the advertisements, or used a tin themselves.”

“The shoe polish.”

It was a statement, not a question, but he answered all the same.

“Yes, the boot blacking. Everyone knows your family’s name.

” He turned away, poking at the straw in the crate once more.

“It’s no good, that. When every Tom, Dick, and Harry knows your name and can recite your date of birth, your height, your life story.

You’d be surprised, I think, at what information about a stranger someone might bother to commit to memory.

Even the address of a person’s residence. ”

“The name of their ship?”

He froze for a long moment before replying.

“I suppose I gave myself away,” he sighed.

And why should her being a Sedley and him being a naval hero set tongues wagging?

It was not so far beyond the bounds of imagination.

And besides, half of his fame was due to the prize money he was awarded from the capture of the two ships—which would put them on, if not even financial standing, then close enough to be suitable.

And yet he looked miserable as he recounted the downsides of his fame. He very much hated it, she realized.

It didn’t suit him, this edge to his voice and the defeated slump of his shoulders. She ought to put his mind at ease.

“Sir Colin, I had no intention of presenting myself as a Sedley.”

He turned around to face her, his expression full of relief.