Page 19 of A Winter By the Sea
“Of course.”
“I prefer lighter reading,” Emily said. “Travel memoirs, novels, and poetry.”
He nodded. “I enjoy those too. As well as current events to aid me in my work. But I am inevitably drawn back to history. There is always more to learn about the past.”
Georgiana sighed again, her flash of happy triumph quickly fading as she realized her opponent’s attention was no longer on the game.
Emily said, “I agree that learning about the past is valuable, especially if it informs our actions in the present or our decisions for the future. Not merely as an academic exercise.”
He quirked one dark brow. “And what does one learn from novels?”
Rising from the table, Emily went and sat on the sofa nearer him. “Novels are stories. And history books, written well, are full of stories, are they not?”
“They are fact.”
“Or at least, an author’s interpretation of facts. Why, last year I read two accounts of the life of Queen Elizabeth, and I cannot tell you how many disparities I found between them.”
“Mistakes?”
“Maybe, or a difference in source or perspective.”
Georgiana pushed back her chair with a huff. “If you two are going to be boring, I’m going to bed.”
He rose swiftly. “Don’t leave on my account. I shall go.”
“Stay, Georgiana,” Emily urged, realizing she wanted to keep talking to Mr. Thomson but should probably not be alone with him this late in the evening. “Stay, and I promise to talk of pleasanter things.”
“Very well.” Georgie slouched next to her on the sofa.
Emily turned back to their guest. “You must excuse my sister. She is disappointed that this Christmastide has not lived up to those of the past. I suppose a quiet Christmas in Sidmouth was a letdown for you as well?”
He shrugged broad shoulders. “Much like any other inrecent years. Although last year we were in Amorbach, so the traditions and food were somewhat different.”
Georgiana scrunched up her nose. “Amorbach? Where’s that?”
“A Bavarian town in Germany, where the duke and duchess resided after their marriage. Otherwise, I have lived wherever Prince Edward was living—in Ealing or London or abroad. I have not been home in years.”
“What about when you were younger?” Georgiana asked. “Were you home for Christmas then?”
He nodded. “I was away at school for most of my boyhood, but I went home for the holidays, like other students.”
Emily asked, “Where was home?”
“Berkshire. Near Reading.”
“Do you have brothers or sisters?” Georgie asked, looking interested again.
“Brothers.”
“I have four sisters,” Georgie said. “The oldest, Claire, lives in Scotland. But IwishI had a brother.”
Mr. Thomson’s mouth tightened, Emily noticed, and he did not respond.
Oblivious to his change in expression, Georgiana plowed ahead. “Did you have jolly Christmases together? With parties and dancing and music?”
Again his lips thinned. “No. Holidays at home were quiet affairs. My father is not ... given to frivolity.”
“That’s a shame. Our father was not given to frivolity either, yet we still had friends over for parties with music and snapdragon and other games.” Georgie sighed and looked sincerely forlorn.
