Page 79 of The Sisters of Sea View
A short while later, as Viola stepped from Mrs. Denby’s room, she was surprised to see Mr. Butcher still in the poor house, on the point of leaving another resident’s room.
From within came a shrill female voice. “You may strike me off your list, sir. Inflict your good deeds on someone else!”
The door slammed behind him.
He cringed. Apparently hearing Viola’s step, he looked over, embarrassment creasing his features.
“Ah, Miss Summers. We meet again.” An awkward moment passed. He added, “By the way, I was not simply being polite. You would be welcome to borrow any books you like, especially as it is for such a good cause.”
Viola considered. “Now you mention it, Mrs. Denby requested a book we don’t have. I don’t suppose you have a copy ofThe Pilgrim’s Progress?”
He brightened. “I do indeed. A relatively new edition, as a matter of fact. Written by another clergyman, John Bunyan. I would be delighted to lend it to you. I shall deliver it to Mrs. Denby when next I call, and you may leave it with her whenever you are finished. No hurry.”
“Excellent. Thank you. That is very kind.”
“What you are doing is truly kind.” His gaze lingered on her veil. “May I ask ... was it the smallpox?”
“What? Oh no. Another ... affliction.”
“Ah. I only wondered. So many were taken by it or left scarred.” His focus shifted to the door he had just left. “Like Miss Reed there. Have you met her?”
“No, though I have heard her spoken of.”
“And none too kindly, I imagine. Miss Reed has tried many a saint, and ordinary mortals like me too.”
“It is good of you to try.”
He grimaced. “She makes it difficult ... for herself and those who wish to help. I suppose that is her right. And she has cause to be bitter, I can’t deny. She contracted the illness when she was in the first blush of youth and beauty. A ‘diamond of the first water,’ as they say. She was betrothed to a titled gentleman, and her future seemed secure. But the disease, which killed her parents and brother, left her badly scarred. The lord broke things off, and because of her condition, people did not blame him nor shun himas they might otherwise have done. She and a sister were left with some money and a few loyal retainers, but when the money ran out and the old servants died, they were forced to accept parish charity.”
“How sad,” Viola breathed, gaze lingering on the closed door, thoughts on the woman within. “And her sister?”
“She died a few years ago. She is the one who told me their story during one of my visits.”
“I see.”
Mr. Butcher added, “Miss Reed’s scars faded over the years, but by then her youth and beauty had faded as well. I believe most people would not be overly troubled by the marks that remain. It is her bitter resentment toward the world and everyone in it that makes people turn away now.”
His words itched like woolen stockings. “Well, thank you for telling me.”
They talked for a few minutes more, Viola’s thoughts once again churning.
Here was the man who, according to Emily, held the future of their guest house in his hands. Emily had asked Mr. Wallis about the new edition of the guidebook and mentioned Sea View, but he’d said it was up to the author to choose the content.
Viola knew she should say something, but her dullard tongue would not obey. Instead, she bid him farewell and walked away, inwardly rebuking herself all the while. How Emily would rail if she knew!
Viola decided she would not tell her.
———
“You what?” Emily scowled, brows drawn thunderously low.
Upon returning to the house, Viola had come upon Sarah and Emily discussing their chances of being listed in the guidebook. Emily had curled her lip and said they would probably have to make a large donation to Mr. Butcher’s chapel to secure a mention. Viola had risen to the man’s defense without thinking it through. She never could keep a secret from this particular sister.
“I said I met him,” Viola repeated. “At the poor house. And he seemed kind and humble.”
“Tell me you put in a good word for us.”
“I ... I have not your gift of impromptu speechmaking. Nor of charming gentlemen into doing my bidding. That is your forte, not mine.”
