Page 106 of The Sisters of Sea View
“Good evening.”
Mr. Hornbeam rose. “Giles, my boy. I knew you’d come.”
The younger man gave a general bow to the room. “A thousand apologies for intruding. I did not realize you would be dining so early.”
Sarah quickly reassured him, “Not at all, sir. You are very welcome.” She gestured to the table. “Please join us. I shall set another place. We have plenty.”
He raised a staying palm. “Don’t go to any trouble on my account. I will dine at the hotel later.”
“The hotel?” his father said. “I have a bed for you in my room here.”
“And I am sure it’s perfectly comfortable, but ...” He shifted foot to foot. “May I have a private word, Pater?”
Mr. Hornbeam hesitated. “Won’t you sit for a few minutes while I finish this excellent meal? If you are not hungry, I am sure Jessie would bring you a cup of tea while you wait.”
Jessie nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Again, the gloved palm rose. “No, thank you. I am sorry to interrupt your meal, but it won’t take more than a few minutes, I promise.”
For a moment, Mr. Hornbeam stood still, his expression, his whole form, tensing as if steeling himself.
“Very well.” He laid down his serviette. “Pray excuse us, everyone. Do go on without me.” He made his way effortlessly around the table, not even using his stick.
Sarah watched the two leave, and as soon as the door closed behind them, she sent Emily a look, signaling her to start up the conversation and break the awkward silence.
Emily took her cue and asked Mr. Henshall about the book he was reading, and the two discussed the Waverly novels for a time.
A few minutes later, Mr. Hornbeam reentered and everyone turned expectantly. The disappointment creasing his face was painful to see.
Pausing in the threshold, he said, “My son will not be joining me here after all.”
“I am sorry, Mr. Hornbeam,” Sarah said.
“Thank you.”
He walked slowly and more gingerly around the table, reclaimed his seat, and settled the serviette on his lap. He said, “I am not truly shocked. An old man like me cannot compete with a party of amiable young friends.”
Mr. Henshall said, “I’d say you have a party of amiable friends right here, Mr. Hornbeam, though perhaps not as fashionable as your son’s.”
“Nor as young,” Mr. Gwilt added, with a self-abasing grin.
Mrs. Elton asked, “In which hotel is he staying?”
“The London Inn, but only for tonight. He returns to Weymouth tomorrow to rejoin his companions.”
“Perhaps we ought to have gone to Weymouth,” Mrs. Elton said. “Or even to Brighton.”
Emily’s eyes flashed and she opened her mouth to reply. “Then—”
Sarah could almost guess her tart retort.“Then don’t let us stop you.”She sent Emily a warning look and said quickly, “Then we would not have met you two, which would indeed be a pity.”
Mr. Elton nodded in acknowledgment, then glanced again at his wife. “I am enjoying Sidmouth, my dear. Though, of course, we could go somewhere else next time, if you prefer.”
Mr. Hornbeam admitted, “My son found Brighton quite diverting.”
Emily smiled sweetly and added, “And a long, long way from here.”
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