Was Ajax really so different?
At some point he must have fallen asleep, for he jolted upright at the sounds of servants bustling up and down the halls. A faint light filtered in through the library windows; dawn had only justbroken. His head felt like hell and his mouth was dry as cotton lint.
He exited the library and shut the door gently behind him, releasing the handle only at the last moment, then nearly leapt out of his skin when he turned to find Charlotte waiting for him in the hallway, quiet and still.
“Egad, what are you doing, lurking about at this hour?”
“Breakfast,” she said matter-of-factly. Her eyes drifted to the small painting on the wall alongside them, an oil of a ship in a storm, then back to him. “You look ill.”
Ajax straightened his lapels, buying himself a moment as he cleared his throat, trying to tie together a coherent thought even as pain stabbed at his temple. He squinted at his daughter. “Your room is on the other side of the house.”
She replied with a noncommittal half-shrug.
Ajax frowned. “Were you in the older wing? Charlotte, I’m not sure it’s appropriate or safe for you to be creeping about in the dark. The spiral stairs in the east tower, especially, are worn and uneven, and I would—”
She sniffed and began to walk down the hall, dismissing his concern.
He frowned and stalked after her. “I don’t like you carousing about like—”
She wheeled around on her heel, confronting him with every inch of her small stature, an insolent sort of excitement about her eyes. “Like what?”
Christ, it was like someone was taking a pickaxe to his head. He sighed, shielding his eyes with one hand while the other rested on his hip. “No, we shall stop this now. Allow me this one consideration, and kindly refrain from skulking about in the dark. Explore if you must—climb every stair, turn up the fields looking for barrows, I don’t give a whit. But in the daylight, please.”
“Alright,” she agreed easily.
Perhaps too easily. When he removed his hand she wasn’t looking at him but down at the carpet. He spied her fingers fidgeting behind the folds of her skirt, and a slight tug at one side of her mouth. The girl clearly had no plans to cease sneaking about by moonlight, but she at least cared enough to feign acquiescence. He felt an odd sort of happiness at that.
With an open hand he gestured for her to walk, and they started once more down the hall. Somewhere in the house a door closed, and floorboards creaked in the distance as the household woke.
“I mean to speak to the head groom today; you shall start lessons as soon as he sees fit,” he said, affecting an air of authority. But truly he hoped she would be pleased, as pleased as when he’d bought her that bizarre array of occult miscellany.
“Of course,” she said, as noncommittally as if she were accepting an offer of tea.
They continued down the stairs in silence, the hope in his heart flagging and the pounding in his head intensifying. He thought of the portion of last night’s conversation with Miss Abbotts that was about riding, and how it had made him realize what a long way he had to go to be a decent parent.
Finally Charlotte spoke, aloof as always. “That woman at the train station. How do you know her?”
Ajax frowned and cast about his memory, a painful exercise at the moment. At last he fell upon it. “Mrs. Kenney? She’s a friend of mine. Why do you ask?” He raised an eyebrow and cast a sideways glance at her, wondering what she might be after.
“She seemed awfully interested in your affairs.”
Ajax coughed, wishing very much to not speak of this right now, with his daughter. “Well, we hadn’t—haven’t—spoken in some time, that’s all. She was only curious.”
“Hmm,” was Charlotte’s response as she alighted from the last step, running her hand about the banister’s carved finial.
Thankfully the subject was dropped, and Charlotte refrained from making any more uncomfortable conversation about his past dealings as they approached the breakfast room. The smells of rich, smoky meats and the yeasty scent of fresh bread greeted them before the doors were even flung open. He wanted to return to his room and change out of his wrinkled clothes, or splash some water on his face at the very least, but the dryness in his mouth and the aches in his body demanded hot tea and nourishment.
They tucked in together in a companionable silence, and Ajax found himself enjoying the girl’s presence, even as his body felt as if he’d been thrown from a racing train. He stirred his tea, and considered something else from the prior evening besides the talk—and subsequent swearing off—of carnal knowledge of Miss Abbotts.
“There was a town, you know, not far from here. Hundreds of years ago. A fishing village, decent size, named Cleton.” He took a sip of tea, holding the handle between his thumb and forefinger.
Charlotte looked up at him, one eyebrow slightly raised. She set her toast back on her plate, nearly empty save for a hardboiled egg and several stalks of asparagus.
Ajax made a mental note to speak to the cook about expanding the breakfast sideboard to be a bit less meat-focused. He set his cup back in its saucer, then continued. “The sea constantly lapped at their doorsteps, rising and receding, the tide gradually coming closer and closer until one day…” He heard the door open behind him, and his heart nearly leapt into his mouth, but he somehow kept talking. “It never fell back, it only climbed. Higher and higher. So they left. The whole village, leaving it allfor the water to claim. And it did. The church. Their homes. The square. All gone, submersed, forever lost.”
He could hear her. Miss Abbotts rustled behind them, making her selections from the sideboard. He maintained his composure, though his wretched body felt as if he’d had the shit kicked out of him, and his heart wouldn’t stop hammering at his chest.Damn it, I pledged to give her space, and we’re already in the same room again.He focused on holding Charlotte’s gaze, watching the widening of her eyes as she considered his words.
“It’s true? Your story?” There was a hint of excitement in her tone, and the happiness he felt distracted him from the governess he was intent on keeping out of his line of sight.
