Page 38 of A Winter By the Sea
Mamma had mentioned the service time to their guests the night before. Mr. Bernardi had declined, but Mr. Thomson and Mr. During had expressed interest. Emily dressed quickly.
After helping Emily fasten the laces of her stays and frock, Sarah said, “I am going to make the rounds and see if all is in order. Don’t be long.” She left the bedchamber, closing the door behind her.
Emily tied up her stockings and slipped into shoes. Then she set to work on her hair.
She wished she were more skilled in arranging it. Carefully brushing it upward, she gathered the brunette length into a thick rope and coiled it at the back of her head, holding it in place with one hand. She grabbed a pin from the dressing table and stuck it in, then ran her fingers over the tabletop searching for another but found none.
She looked around for more pins, opened a drawer with her free hand and shuffled through the contents. Where had Sarah put all the hairpins? She did not have time to let her hair fall and start the process all over again.
With a frustrated huff, she rose and pushed open the door. As she stepped into the passage, the coil shifted and she raised her other hand as well, holding her hair in place as though a priceless crown.
Hearing something, she looked diagonally across the stairwell toward the water closet. Over the balustrade she saw the open door and heard rustling from within. Perhaps her sister tidying up?
Tentatively, she called, “Sarah?”
More rustling.
“Sarah,” she called again. “I can’t find the hairpins.”
A moment later a figure emerged, but it was not her sister.
Mr. Thomson stood there in trousers, waistcoat, and shirtsleeves, a towel around his neck and a razor in hand.
“Sorry. It is only me.”
Emily felt foolish to be caught in the passage like that, both arms over her head. At least she was mostly dressed.
His warm gaze traveled over her, up her arms to the top of her head. How self-conscious she felt standing there with bare arms and lifted bosom. She wished she had put on a fichu before starting on her hair.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“I ... just need hairpins.”
“None of those, I’m afraid.” His lips quirked softly.
“Of course not.”
For a moment, they both stood where they were, looking at each other across the distance. Emily felt oddly breathless. Perhaps her stays were too tight.
At that moment, Sarah came up the stairs. “Emily, are you almost ready?”
She looked from Emily then through the balusters to Mr. Thomson. “Is ... everything all right?”
Emily said, “I can’t find the hairpins. I was coming to ask you.”
“I put them in the lacquered box on the dressing chest, remember? I was tired of finding them spread all over the place.”
That’s right. Emily had forgotten.
Sarah turned and nodded to their guest. “Excuse us, Mr. Thomson.”
Emily quickly retreated into their bedchamber, face burning.
———
A short while later, Emily and the others set out for St. Giles and St. Nicholas together. Mamma, whose health had improved, had begun attending divine services with them, to the delight of her daughters.
The church was about a ten-minute walk away, in the eastern town. Due to the cold weather, Major Hutton sent his carriage for the ladies, while the men planned to go on foot. Georgie, however, insisted Mr. Hornbeam take her place in the carriage while she walked with their guests. She had never minded the cold, so Mamma agreed to the suggestion.
