Page 57 of The Sisters of Sea View
“Yes, I know. Congratulations.” Mrs. Fulford slanted her companion a stern look. “But you, Mrs. Robins, are not.”
She returned her focus to Viola. “Your sister tells us you read to invalids. We applaud such good deeds. A worthwhile, charitable endeavor.”
Viola said coolly, “It is not a charitable endeavor; it is a profitable one. I am paid for my time.”
If Viola had hoped to discomfit these ladies with talk of money, she was to be disappointed. They had, after all, come in search of donations.
“And would you consider reading to just one person, perhaps two, gratis?” Mrs. Fulford asked. “It would be so appreciated by some of the elderly poor of Sidmouth, especially those without homes and families of their own.”
Viola said nothing, holding Mrs. Fulford’s gaze, weighing her expression.
Emily feared a setdown was about to spew forth, so she spoke up. “If Viola agrees, might you in return refer a potential client or two—of the able-to-pay variety? She would be providing a helpful service after all and would appreciate one in turn.”
Mrs. Fulford regarded Emily appraisingly. “You are quite canny, my dear. We could use someone like you in the society.”
Mrs. Robins whispered, “Really, I don’t think—”
Mrs. Fulford rose. “Thank you for your time, ladies. Miss Viola, if you would kindly meet me at the Sidmouth Poor House tomorrow at a time convenient to you, I will introduce you to the resident I have in mind.”
Viola blinked, seemingly taken aback by the speed at which arrangements were progressing.
When she remained silent, Mrs. Fulford asked, “Might four in the afternoon suit?”
“Y-yes.”
Emily looked at her twin in surprise.
“Excellent.” Mrs. Fulford beamed, and the expression took years from her face. “I will see you then.”
When the ladies departed, Emily took Viola aside. “That was well done, Vi. I am impressed.”
“Are you? You are the one who started all this, but I find ... Well, I enjoy being useful. And with something unrelated to dusting and privies.”
11
A little sea-bathing would set me up forever.
—Jane Austen,Pride and Prejudice
Later that day, after helping to clear away the luncheon dishes, Sarah brought the box of broken china pieces into the dining room and laid it on the table. She began trying to fit the pieces back together but after half an hour gave up. It seemed an impossible task.
Returning the pieces to the glove box and setting it aside, she moved into the parlour and sat at her worktable instead. The small portable table contained many compartments for needlework supplies, as well as a pleated silk bag suspended beneath to hold fabric and works in progress. Sarah decided to embroider a new handkerchief for Mamma with sunny yellow primroses in each corner. As she stitched, her thoughts returned to Mr. Henshall, his wife, and his search.
Sometime later, that man himself entered the room and sat in a chair near her.
She offered him a welcoming smile, then said, “I have been thinking about your wife’s jewelry. May I ask where you have looked so far?”
He grimaced. “Again, I apologize for poking around. I looked only in the public rooms.”
“Did your wife sleep in the main-floor garden room? Is that why you requested it when you arrived?”
“Aye.”
“That is Mamma’s room now. Come with me.” Sarah rose.
He followed her out. “Are ye certain? I’d hate to disturb her.”
“I will go in first and make sure, but I think she’ll be glad for the company. She enjoys far too little society in my view.”
