Page 105 of The Sisters of Sea View
“Is there sufficient time for that?”
“Yes, unless you plan to have the invitations printed.”
“I had not thought of that....”
“No need. A handwritten invitation is perfectly acceptable.”
“So many details to consider.”
“Yes.” Sarah agreed completely. Her heart beat hard, and perspiration dampened the back of her neck. She hoped they could make a success of this dinner.
Viola’s mood remained rather more somber than usual, even for her. She missed going to Westmount, chatting with Mr. Hutton and Armaan, and being teased by Colin. If she were honest with herself, she missed the major most of all. More than once, she reviewed their various conversations and interactions. No, he had not mentioned his engagement, but why should he divulge such personal information to a stranger paid to read to him? And he’d not really encouraged her—in fact he’d barely been civil toward her, at least initially. She could not claim he had deceived her. Yet their last few encounters had taken on a more personal aspect. And he had touched her mouth. She had thought it meant something—or might. She had clearly been wrong and foolish. Yet he had been wrong too. An engaged man should not go around touching women’s lips, and she would tell him so. If and when she saw him again.
Would she?
Because Viola had curtailed her visits to Westmount, she found herself with unexpected free time and began visiting Mrs. Denby more often.
When Viola entered her room at the poor house that day, the old woman slapped her hand down as though swatting an insect. Viola heard the distinct sound of crinkling paper.
Suspicion rose. “What do you have there, Mrs. Denby?”
She looked up, as guilty as a child hiding candy. “Ah, well. Didn’twant you to catch me reading. I can still see a little, you know, but I don’t want you to stop visiting me.”
“I won’t. Now, what are you hiding?”
The old woman extracted a piece of paper she’d stuffed between herself and the arm of the chair and held it aloft. “I received a letter. Me! A rare treat at my age. Oh, and did I enjoy showing it to Mr. Banks. He often receives letters, and does he lord it over me!” She giggled, then extended the letter to Viola.
“Would you read it to me, my dear? I’d like to hear it again in your lovely voice, and you might find it interesting as well.”
“Oh?”
Mrs. Denby nodded, lips pursed in a suppressed smile.
Curious, Viola accepted the letter, recognized the handwriting, and read aloud:
“Dear Mrs. Denby,
Thank you for your kind note about my small offerings of baked goods I’ve sent with Viola. You were exceedingly generous in your compliments, and since I am now baking for our guests, your encouragement is timely and appreciated.
Thank you, too, for befriending our Viola. She speaks very highly of you, praising your amiability and excellent spirits. Sometimes I think our dear sister undervalues her worth, and it is heartening when someone outside of our family recognizes her for the jewel she is.
Yours sincerely,
Miss Sarah Summers”
An uncomfortable knot lodged itself under Viola’s ribs. Did Sarah really see her as valuable, or was she merely being polite? Disbelief and longing wrestled within her. Her, a jewel? It was a compliment she was not quite able to believe.
During dinner that night, Sarah helped Jessie serve the meal while Emily acted as hostess. Mr. Stanley dined with them, a rare occurrence since his sister’s arrival in Sidmouth. Sarah noticed him gaze often at Emily from across the table, his every look betraying admiration.
A shadow appeared in the doorway, and Sarah glanced over, surprised to see Lowen. He rarely ventured into the dining room.
He cleared his throat. “There’s a Giles Hornbeam to see Mr. Hornbeam.”
Mr. Hornbeam’s head snapped up, and his mouth fell slack before rising in pleasure, a crinkling web of smile lines fanning out beneath his dark glasses.
Sarah replied, “Please show him in.”
A handsome man of about thirty, dressed in the height of fashion, appeared in the threshold, hat in hand.
