Page 138 of A Winter By the Sea
“At present, we have little reason to hope and have had next to no contact with her. But if there is ever a chance to see her again, I will grasp it, whether you approve or not.”
“Emily, please. You are obviously still angry with me. I suppose you think me heartless for being concerned about the reputation of the family I marry into. What about your Mr. Thomson, who has clearly developed a tendre for you. Does he know about your sister’s fall from grace? Would he shrug it off as immaterial?”
“We are not talking about Mr. Thomson. We are talking about you.”
Before he could respond, she raised a related subject. “Your mother has made it clear she expects you to make a good match, as Amanda did. To marry someone ‘of impeccable character and family.’ She may like me, but she does not approve of me.”
“I won’t pretend she is delighted about the prospect of our union. However, she admits you have a great deal of potentialand could become a lady of distinction with very little guidance.”
Emily knew she was far from perfect. Even so, she bristled at the notion of Mrs. Parker being the one to guide her.
He went on, “And I think, should Claire remain in Scotland, my parents will lay aside their misgivings and give their blessing to the match.”
She stared at him, betrayal twisting deep in her gut. “So. To be clear. Any happiness between you and me depends on Claire staying away. When I want nothing more than to see her again, to see her reconciled with our family and restored to us.”
She slowly shook her head. “I cannot embrace your vision of happiness, Charles. For I would never choose you over Claire. Not for all the marriage proposals in the world.”
For several ticks of the mantel clock, he looked down at his hands. When he raised his head, his golden-brown eyes glistened with tears.
Seeing them was almost her undoing. She felt pity for him. Real pity. Yes, a part of her still loved Charles—the boy next door, the prince of her dreams—and always would. But she could not marry him.
Regardless, she did not like causing him pain. “I am sorry to disappoint you. Truly.”
“And that is your reply?” he asked in a small, astonished voice.
She looked away from his tear-filled eyes and handed him the handkerchief. “I have kept it all this time. You should have it back.”
He accepted it with barely a glance, his stunned gaze quickly returning to her face. “Is this really good-bye?”
Emily bit her lip. Was she making a mistake? Would she regret this for the rest of her life?God, please, show me.
An image of her oldest sister appeared in her mind—beloved and much missed.
She inhaled deeply and said with calm resolve, “Again, I am sorry. But I will not forget Claire. In fact, I am going to write to her this very night.”
Charles flinched, then nodded. He stood, retrieved his hat, and turned to go. At the door he turned back. “Please tell her how sorry I am ... for everything.”
———
After Charles left, Emily sat in a stupor, feeling numb and shaky.
A short while later, there was a tap on the door. She assumed it was Mamma, come to see if Charles still wished to speak to her. She was not ready to talk to Mamma. She was not ready to talk to anyone, except perhaps—
“Emily?” The door creaked open and Viola herself appeared. “May I come in?”
“Oh, Vi.” Tears filled her eyes. “How did you know?”
“I spied on you, I’m afraid. Watched from our house until Charles left, then came over straightaway.”
“I’m glad you did.” Emily patted the chair beside her, the one Charles had recently vacated.
Once Viola was seated, Emily told her everything, then leaned into her arms and wept.
“Was I wrong not to accept him?”
Viola held her and stroked her hair. “Oh, Em. I hate to see you so upset. I hope I did not give you poor advice. If you think you were wrong to refuse him, you could tell him you changed your mind.”
Emily shook her head and spoke over a hot lump in her throat. “It’s too late. Oh, Vi. It was so much harder than I expected. I’ve cut Charles from my life and given up my long-cherished hope for the future. It was a part of me—almost likea third twin.” Emily sat up and pressed a hand to her chest. “It hurts. And I hate that I’ve hurt him too.”
