The walk back was pleasant, if not a little awkward, somewhat haunted by words and thoughts unspoken. As the creaking path of wooden planks curved away from the beach and back toward the hotel, the pale white of moonlight was gradually replaced by an orangey glow pooling from every patio and open window. Lively music played within the pristine walls of King's Club, from whose open mouth drowsy couples escaped the party's heat to catch their breath and mingle in the ocean air.
Even in the outskirts of reverie's reach, Cal was quickly spotted and called upon by his brother-in-law. Ada's employer raised an arm and signaled back to him, but had yet to step into the lamplight.
Turning toward her, he said, "I promised my sister I'd join them after dinner… Do you enjoy ragtime, Ms. Kruger? I'm sure King's will let you in as my guest."
Ada was grateful for the night's discretion as she felt her cheeks warm with his invitation. "I…" and for a split second she almost accepted, before reason swiftly returned. "I should see to Evelyn. She doesn't sleep well when she travels. Thank you though, Sir. It's very kind of you to offer."
"Of course. Well then, I'll just walk you back before I join them."
"Thank you but, that isn't necessary. We're practically there and Mr. Gantry is waiting." Ada took a step back, silently excusing him from any obligation.
"If you're sure…Thank you for meeting with me, Ms. Kruger. I'm very pleased to know you'll stay."
"The pleasure is mine, Sir. Enjoy your evening."
"You as well. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." And with a polite nod Ada turned and retreated, holding her notebook close to her chest as she purposefully maintained a calm and steady pace.
Cal watched her go for a moment before Oscar's call pulled him back, stepping at last from the shadows. Approaching his brother-in-law, Cal accepted the man's outstretched hand and hardy pat on the shoulder.
"There you are, old boy. Cora was starting to worry."
"Well, we can't have that, can we." Cal replied dryly, plucking what smelled like a gin and tonic from a passing tray.
"Who was that young woman?" Oscar asked, his brow arched with suggestion. "A mysterious conquest?"
Cal sipped his cocktail, avoiding the other man's prying gaze. "It was Ms. Kruger."
"The governess? Well that's disappointing. And here I thought you were finally starting to have some fun. No matter, we'll soon see to that. There's been a score of eligible ladies asking for you all night. Let's go and find one of them." Too tired to argue, Cal submitted, following his brother-in-law into the cloud of laughter and intoxicated cheer.
Far from the party, Ada fell back into the hushed silence of evening, in the part of the hotel where people were either already sleeping or settling in the for the night. She stuck outside for as long as she was able, relying on the cool air to chase the heat from her face and calm the quick thumping of her heart.
That had gone... not quite as she expected. Though to be honest, Ada went to their meeting not knowing at all what to expect. As collected as she appeared on the outside, since their encounter the night before, Ada's usually focused mind had become rather jumbled. She'd hardly slept, her thoughts obsessively replaying every touch, every smell, every sensation. And that kiss -No! She'd forbidden herself from thinking about it. It was a mistake. Best to pretend that it hadn't happened. And yet… the shock and immediate excitement of his lips against her skin was enough to chase away all reason while planting a seed of…something, in close proximity to her heart.
Ada knew it was foolish to think something as simple as a peck on the cheek could mean that he, her employer, Caledon Hockley for God's sake, actually cared for her. It was a gesture, nothing more. Fueled by weary gratitude. And of course, the amount of drink involved was undoubtedly more to blame than any true intention.
By morning, the raw light of day helped dispel any foolish, dream-like notions. At twenty-five, she was too old to be overcome by such romantic thoughts anyway. He'd needed assistance, and she was there to provide it. He'd expressed appreciation for that service, that was all. Granted in a way that crossed the line of propriety, but from someone who had only ever shown himself to be a gentleman, it hardly tarnished his character in her eyes. Especially given how gentle his touch had been and how welcomed it was to one accustomed to providing care but rarely receiving it herself, how much his plea had moved her, how… soft the press of his mouth against the edge of her own…
With the commotion of suddenly having to ready her charge for a spontaneous trip down the coast, that morning had been a blur. All the scrambling to pack for a journey of unknown duration while corralling an excited four-year-old, fizzled and crashed like symbols in her memory. But when they went outside to the cars, and Ada's passing glace found the crystal eyes of Caledon intent upon her face, something in that moment stilled, something within her stilled and she felt…assured.
It had been a silly thought, but a reassuring one. Ada had been certain he would avoid her, or simply not acknowledge what had happened. And had that been the case, she would have been fine with it, it would have told her how to behave. But his gaze, though tired -even more so than usual- looked… grateful. Perhaps even, happy to see her? No, that was going too far. But she did not see embarrassment, resentment or disgust in his features, and that realization chased a good deal of worry from her mind.
When he'd started to bring up the encounter while on the beach, her heart did a tap dance over how surprised she'd been. Ada quickly thought of the lecture as an alternative for them to speak, not entirely realizing she'd suggested they rendezvous until after she walked away. Ada felt somewhat suspended as she made her way to the presentation that night, half expecting him not to show, as the topic and setting seemed so far from the fashionable Mr. Hockley's usual foray. And yet, there he was, slipping in late and sitting beside her. The fact that he came, again served to settle most of the nervousness inside her and, in the familiar comfort of a dark auditorium, Ada found she was happy for the company, happy to be sharing an experience she enjoyed with someone she liked. Too bad the presenter wasn't more engaging.
The ocean had been beautiful, the waves calming. Mr. Hockley's sudden monolog, however, completely caught Ada off guard. He was apologetic, respectful, and…remorseful?
It sounded like, he regretted what happened. He swore to her it'd never happen again, as a means to appease her. As if, that's what she wanted.
…Was that what she wanted?...
It had to be, surely. But then, what was this sense of loss she was feeling? And what was it for? For the fleeting, foolish fantasy of love out of reach? For a momentary lapse in judgement where for once, the sensible thing didn't matter and she was free to feel and wish and dream, untethered by consequence.
It was best to carry on as they had been, Ada decided. That seemed to be what he wanted. But then he'd gone and confused her again, inviting her to a party that she had no place attending. Ada needed to step away, and so insisted on her departure. But now she was left with this war of thoughts, wants and syphered intentions.
Entering the Gantry-Hockley Suite, Ada kept quiet as she checked on Evelyn. The little angel was fast asleep, practically snoring with how exhausted she must have been from a full day of travel and play. Smiling, Ada softly closed the door and went to place her notebook on a nearby desk. Spotting the postcard she'd selected for her father, she decided to write to him.
As Ada sat, pen in hand, she paused, wondering about her predicament. She couldn't tell Papa, at least not until she sorted this out. He'd find the whole situation too messy, too dangerous, and would use it as an excuse to insist she return as his assistant. Ada's next thought was to write to Winnie, but she hesitated, worried that as a fellow Hockley employee, she may be too close to the situation to provide honest advice.
It was moments like these where she longed for a mother or sisters, someone to whose ears no secret was too outlandish to share.
With a sigh, Ada started her postcard, writing only about the tidepools and how she hoped her Papa could see them one day.