Page 132 of The Sisters of Sea View
Hearing her cue, Viola heaved to turn the chair and started down the street.
Mrs. Nicholls called after them. “Jane?”
Viola paused and turned the chair back around.
Mrs. Nicholls looked at its occupant and said, “You are always welcome here. I hope you know that. I hold nothing against you. What happened is ... in the past.”
Mrs. Denby slowly nodded and raised a hand in farewell.
They were quiet on the way back, saying little as they passed the Old Ship Inn and returned to Mill Lane, which would take them to the poor house.
“Are you all right?” Viola asked softly.
“I think so. When I saw her, all the shame came flooding back, but it’s not her fault.”
“Nor yours.”
“How I wish I could believe that. Well. I am glad that is out of the way—that first meeting after all these years. Should I see her again, it shan’t be so awkward.”
“She was quite kind.”
“Yes, surprisingly so.”
As their hour came to an end, Viola delivered Mrs. Denby to her room and helped her out of the wheeled chair and into her own.
The woman beamed. “Thank you, my dear. I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed myself more. I shall sleep for a week!”
Viola smiled back. “You know, I was thinking. This worked rather well. Would you like to go to church with us? I could come by and pick you up, and we could go together.”
“Really? I would like that above all things. What a dear you are. The daughter I never had!”
———
Viola returned the chair, thanked Mr. Radford, and started for home in a haze of happy satisfaction.
On the street, she stopped abruptly, almost tripping, her limbs suddenly paralyzed. She stood frozen outside a shop she didn’t see, and stared.
Closer now, she saw Abner Cleeves looked older, with more silver in his side-whiskers, but that wiry, close-cropped hair, those smooth patrician features, those dead pond-water eyes were the same.
Strolling with another man, he walked in her direction. As he was about to pass by, he sent her a vague glance, then looked again, eyes narrowed. She prayed he had not recognized her. An instant later he nodded politely and continued past.
A few doors down, Mr. Radford stepped out and called, “Miss Summers, you forgot your receipt.”
Viola accepted it with a silent nod of thanks, trying not to draw more attention to herself.
“Miss Summers?” a voice echoed. A familiar, languid voice that seemed to hiss on the letterS. The man she desperately hoped to avoid had turned back, retracing his steps. He stopped a few feet from her, and only the solid shop wall at her back kept Viola from retreating.
His gaze dropped from a general survey of her face to her mouth, lingering there.
Half to himself, he murmured, “Ah yes.”
His companion returned as well to see what had captured his attention. He looked from one to the other, brows raised in expectation, evidently waiting to be introduced.
“Miss Summers, a pleasure to see you again,” Cleeves began. “Allow me to present Dr. Davis.”
His colleague lifted his hat and bowed.
Abner Cleeves circled gloved fingers near her lips, and Viola recoiled, leaning her head back.
