Page 140 of A Winter By the Sea
“In that case, my dear, I am sorry for you both. However, if you have this many misgivings, you were probably right to refuse, even though it is painful.”
“Thank you, Mamma.” Emily held her mother’s gaze, then said gently, “One more thing. Please understand that I made no such promise to Papa. I have given up Charles, and I would give up novel writing before I would give up Claire.”
Emily had not seen Mr. Thomson for several hours, which was a relief, considering the tumultuous events of the day. At dinner, Mr. Bernardi mentioned that he had gone to spend the evening with General Wetherall at Fortfield Terrace.
That night, Emily sat down to write to Claire but struggled to compose more than a salutation. Exhausted in mind and body, she craved nothing more than the sanctuary of sleep.
Emily was crossing the hall, intent on an early bedtime, when Mr. Thomson returned, removing his hat as he entered.
He paused when he saw her, his whole body tensing. He took a deep breath and faced her as if preparing for a blow.
“Miss Emily. Good evening. I passed Charles earlier, on his way here to see you. He told me the ... good news.” James swallowed hard. “May I be among the first to wish you happy?”
“I don’t know why you would.”
Confusion puckered his brow. “He said he had proposed, and—”
“I did not accept him.”
“Oh.” He blinked rapidly. “May I ask why?”
“Several reasons. But I don’t wish to go through it all again. Not now.”
“I understand. Are you ... all right?”
“I hardly know.”
He reached out as though to comfort her but quickly retracted his hands, tucking them both behind his back.
Emily amended, “Mostly, I am tired.” She gestured toward the stairs. “I was just on my way to bed.”
“Forgive me. I shall not delay you any longer.” He stepped aside. “But please let me know if there is anything I can do.”
25
Entrepreneurs who opened beach-side circulating libraries vied with each other. In Sidmouth, Mr. John Wallis and Mr. John Marsh both published guide books in which their own library was highly praised.
—Ian Maxted,Etched on Devon’s Memory
Over the next few days, Emily spent a great deal of time in the office finishing her draft of the new Sidmouth guide for Mr. Marsh. She hoped to put Charles from her mind, and to overcome the grief and misgivings that still assailed her.
Miss Stirling came over for tea, and Emily wondered if her visits would become far less frequent after she married. Engagements were not often celebrated, yet even so, Mamma presented her with a gift wrapped in tissue, saying, “With our heartfelt appreciation for all your support and friendship over the years.”
Miss Stirling pulled back the tissue to reveal a beautiful lace cap from Mrs. Nicholls’s shop.
“You shall need a new cap, now that you are to be a married woman,” Mamma explained.
Fran shook her head. “It’s far too beautiful to wear.”
“Nonsense. It is as lovely as you are.”
“Thank you. Thank you all.”
Mamma continued to be supportive of Emily’s decision not to marry Charles. Sarah was supportive as well. In fact, only after Emily confided that she had rejected him did Sarah admit she’d long had reservations about someone who could abandon a woman he supposedly loved during her family’s time of need.
“I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. And if he had come to apologize sooner, I would have believed him sincere. But we moved away well over a year ago, and he has just decided to come here and admit he might have been wrong? To try to pick up where you left off? All that to say, I think you made the right decision.”
Only Georgie vocalized disappointment. She had wanted Charles for a brother-in-law, the older brother she’d never had. “I can’t believe you, Emily. You have moped around since we moved here, pining for Charles. And now to refuse him? If that’s what comes from reading so many novels, I’ll keep to sports.”
