Page 39 of The Sisters of Sea View
“And as to its recommendations toyou, Miss Emily, well, I fancy the advantages of Bath to the young are pretty generally understood. It would be a charming introduction for you, who have lived so secluded a life, and a line from me would secure you some of the best society in the place....”
It was as much as Emily could bear. Fearing she might explode, she forced a smile and said rather loudly, “Yes, Bath sounds a treat! Do pray excuse me, Mrs. Elton. There is something I must attend to.”
“Well!” The woman sniffed, lifted her nose, and started for the stairs. “Come, Mr. Elton!”
Emily retreated into the library.
Happily, as soon as she was surrounded by books instead of Eltons, she began to calm down. Insufferable woman!
Viola walked to Westmount for the day’s reading session. Was it ridiculous of her to keep wearing her veil? Probably. But she felt dreadfully self-conscious in a house full of men.
When she arrived, Armaan showed her to the major’s room, apology creasing his face. “He is in a mood most foul today. The headache, you understand. I am sorry.”
“Thank you for the warning.”
She entered his room, determined to be cheerful. “Good day.”
The major looked up and scowled. “Again? Must you wear that infernal veil?”
She sucked in a shocked breath, her confidence flagging.
He grimaced. “Forgive me. That was rude.” He sighed, then said, “Our mother died many years ago and we had no sisters, so my brothers and I had no one to teach us manners. Ours was—and is—a thoroughly male household.”
Viola was struck by something he said. “Your father mentioned a younger son, but I did not realize you have another brother.”
His eye flattened. “I did have.”
She waited for him to explain, unsure whether to press him. Finally she asked, “What became of him?”
His face contorted with pain of another kind before his expression flattened once more—held stiff and grim with steely control.“He died on the Continent. I should have protected him, but I failed to do so.”
“I am sorry.”
“It’s one of the reasons I signed on for duty in India. Too many memories of Timothy at home. Too many reminders—in the house and in my father’s forlorn face. So I transferred to the East India Company. What is the saying—‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’? I will not describe that time, as I have exerted too much effort in trying to forget it. Suffice it to say, I have come to believe we have no business being there. Well, a great deal of business, but little right. It was almost a mercy to be wounded and sent home. For I could no longer fulfill my role in good conscience, even though I was serving as private secretary to the governor by that point.”
“Your father is certainly thankful you made it home alive.” She remembered Armaan casting doubt on the major’s desire to live but did not repeat it.
He snorted and said no more.
After several moments of silence, she said gently, “Tell me about Timothy.”
Viola feared he would refuse ... or rebuke her. Instead, he took a deep breath and began, “We were near in age. Sixteen months apart.”
She absorbed that. “I suppose you were close, being so near in age?”
“We were good friends, yes.” He glanced at her. “Are you close in age to any of your sisters?”
“Emily.”
“What is the age difference between you?”
Viola hesitated. She could think of no way to evade such a direct question. “Sixteen m—”
“Sixteen months?” he interjected with amazement. “The same span?”
“Sixteen minutes, actually.”
“Ah. Close indeed. Twins.”
