Page 26 of A Winter By the Sea
“I don’t want you to spend any more time with that boy, Georgiana. I don’t say that because he is an apprentice, but because he is obviously reckless.”
Georgiana pulled a wry face. “I’d like to disagree, but I can’t. I do hope Billy won’t get into too much trouble with Mr. Tucker. I’d hate for him to lose his apprenticeship.”
“Should we do something?” Sarah asked. “Send a note of apology to Their Royal Highnesses? Offer to help with the broken window? Fran Stirling is sure to know ‘the very person’ to replace the glass.”
Emily replied, “I think with the many staff at their disposal, someone has probably already been summoned to repair the window, but I will ask Mr. Thomson if there is anything we can do.”
“Good idea.” Mamma rose to kiss Georgiana’s cheek, then Emily’s. “Thank God no one was hurt.”
When Mr. Thomson returned to Sea View a short while later, Emily greeted him in the hall.
“Thank you for speaking up on our behalf.”
He nodded, lips pressed tight.
She ventured, “Captain Conroy did not appreciate your interference, I noticed.”
“No. He has made that perfectly clear. I am not to give myopinion unless asked, apparently. He gave me a harsh reprimand as soon as we were alone.”
“I am sorry.”
He shrugged. “Not your fault. He has never approved of me. Most of those who work closely with His Royal Highness—his other secretary, equerry, comptroller, et cetera, are all military men. It makes sense, considering the duke’s long military career. I am not one of them.”
“You are no doubt very useful to Their Royal Highnesses, despite that.”
“I hope so. I have long desired to aid our great country in some manner. And this is the manner currently open to me. Perhaps in time it will lead to a better situation, if I do well in this one.”
“Is it unusual for a royal duke to employ multiple secretaries?”
“I don’t think so. Prince Edward is an avid correspondent, writing many letters himself and dictating others. As I mentioned, my specific focus is corresponding with the many charities that request his patronage. He cannot sponsor them all, of course, but I help him identify the worthiest. He is surprisingly benevolent.”
“I am glad to hear it. Do you know, we have several worthy charities right here in Sidmouth?”
He pursed his lips, clearly impressed. “Is that so? I cannot make any promises, but I would be happy to learn more about them and present them to His Royal Highness.”
“Really?” Eagerness sprouted through her. “One charity dear to my sisters is the Poor’s Friend Society.” She searched her memory and recited, “‘Which seeks to relieve the distress of poverty from those who still have a home but are too infirm to work, or those living in the Sidmouth Poor House.’”
He quirked a slender brow at her. “Learnt that by heart, did you? Just waiting for an opportunity?”
Her face heated. “Not exactly.”
If there was any censure in his tone, it was alleviated by a glimmer of humor in his dark eyes. Perhaps the first evidence of good humor she’d seen in the man.
Emily said, “I have learned all I can about Sidmouth since we moved here.” She had done so in an effort to grow to like the place and overcome her longing for home. “We are personally acquainted with a few people benefited by the charity, and more deserving as well as delightful people I cannot imagine.”
A smile touched his lips. “You are uncommonly persuasive.”
She returned his smile, admiring the attractive lines of his face, accentuated by the dark stubble already shading his jaw. For a moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the company of a handsome man. Then, recalling her assignment—and her determination to be more guarded—she asked, “Is there anything we can do about what happened today? Help clean up the broken glass? Find someone to repair the broken window?”
He shook his head. “Nothing you need to do. Every particle of glass has been cleared away by diligent housemaids, and Captain Conroy has personally dragged the local glazier from his dinner to see about the window.”
“That does not surprise me,” Emily said. “Speaking of dinner, I do hope you are hungry. We dine in less than an hour.”
He gave another of his tight smiles, almost like a wince. “Actually, I am not very hungry. And I have some correspondence to finish before tomorrow.”
“Oh, please do join us,” Emily implored. “We are having Mrs. Besley’s famous roast beef with Yorkshire puddings. My favorite.”
His eyes traced her features, and then he relented. “In that case, I would not miss it.”
