Page 176 of The Sisters of Sea View
A short while later, Mr. Hornbeam approached the matching chair facing the fire. He touched the back and asked, “Pardon me, is this seat taken?”
The woman either did not hear or ignored him, so Sarah answered, “No. It’s free.”
He sat down, set his dark glasses on the side table, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
The woman glanced in his direction, then she turned again, studying his profile in the dim light.
“Simon Hornbeam?”
“Yes?” He turned toward the chair next to his. If one didn’t know better, one would think he could see her.
The woman said, “I thought it was you. You probably don’t recognize me. I am Miss Reed.”
Sarah had not intended to eavesdrop, but she was too interested to move away.
“Not ... Alvinia Reed?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Ah. Your voice is familiar. Are you visiting Sidmouth, as I am?”
“No, I live here. The po— My home was flooded.”
“Sorry to hear it. I must say, I am surprised you remember me, when you refused my suit all those years ago—refused even to dance with me.”
“And now you no doubt thank your lucky stars that I did so.”
“No. I don’t thank stars. But I do thank God that, after you rejected me, I met and married my wife, Mary. We were very happy for many years.”
“Lucky you.”
“I prefer ‘blessed.’”
“And I suppose you had children?” Miss Reed said, sounding almost accusatory.
He nodded. “Mary and I had one son. He and I are not close. That was not her fault, though I often feel it is mine.”
Georgiana appeared. “Here you go, Mr. Hornbeam. A plate of tarts and biscuits.”
“Thank you, Georgiana.” He accepted the plate and offered it to Miss Reed. “Will you have one? Miss Sarah is an excellent baker.”
“No, thank you.”
“Are you not hungry?”
“One cannot eat in a ladylike manner while wearing a veil. And I prefer not to remove it.”
“Ah.” He paused, and Sarah held her breath. “You had the smallpox, I believe. I remember hearing so, from a mutual friend.”
“And you rejoiced in my misery, no doubt. Saw it as my just deserts after I rejected you.”
“Not at all.” After a brief pause, he asked quietly, “Is it ... so bad?”
She sniffed. “It was. The scars had faded somewhat but are now magnified by wrinkles and age spots!” Her voice broke, as if confiding a great calamity.
He nodded his understanding, then said, “May I bring yousomething to drink? Tea or cider? Georgiana would no doubt be happy to assist me.”
“Did you not hear what I said?”
