Page 39 of A Winter By the Sea
When Emily, Sarah, Mamma, and Mr. Hornbeam arrived at church, they waited inside the entry porch for Georgiana and the two guests to join them, as well as the Huttons and Mrs. Denby.
By the time they had all assembled, the service was about to start. Emily decided introductions would have to wait. They processed through the nave together in silence.
Emily noticed Mr. Thomson drop a few coins into the alms box as he passed. Ahead of her, Mamma linked arms with Sarah but seemed less and less to need the support.
Mamma and Sarah sat first, followed by Georgiana. Mr. Thomson gestured for Emily to precede him into the pew, and she did so, sliding over as far as she could next to her sisters. Mr. Thomson sat beside her, several inches of space between them. Then Selwyn During squeezed in on his other side, jostling Mr. Thomson nearer, until his coat sleeve pressed against her shoulder and his thigh in snug pantaloons brushed her skirts.
Together they filled the family’s usual pew as well as the one behind. Major Hutton, wearing a black silk band over his damagedear, positioned Mrs. Denby’s wheeled chair against the end of the pew. Viola sat beside her, followed by the major, his father and brother, Mr. Hornbeam, and Miss Reed. Their servants sat nearer the rear, and Mr. Gwilt chose to sit with them.
As the service began, Emily found herself all too aware of the man beside her.
She dutifully gave the responses and repeated the prayers, but all the while she remained attuned to him, listening to his low, earnest voice. When the organist began to play, Emily looked for another hymnal, but Sarah and Mamma were already sharing one, while Georgiana held the other. Georgie shifted hers closer to Emily, but it remained out of view of the men.
She was about to extract it from her sister’s hands when she realized Mr. Thomson was singing the hymn from memory, his baritone rich and true.
“‘O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home...’”
She liked his voice very much indeed.
After the service, Mr. During quickly exited the pew. Mr. Thomson, however, lingered.
Emily turned to introduce him to Viola and the major. She wondered how he would react to meeting the couple. Like Viola, the major also bore scars. His were more extensive, as he’d been injured in an explosion while serving in India.
“Allow me to introduce one of our guests,” Emily began. “Mr. Thomson is private secretary to His Royal Highness, the Duke of Kent. And this is my sister, Mrs. Hutton, and her husband, Major Hutton.”
James Thomson bowed. “A sincere pleasure to meet you. Miss Emily speaks of you both often and highly.”
Emily watched as he looked from Viola with her unusual lip to the major with his burn scars and covered ear. She saw no signs of revulsion, nor did he seem in any hurry to turn away.
Viola glanced toward Mrs. Denby, likely planning to introduce her, but the elderly woman was surrounded by old friends, smiling and chatting. How much Mrs. Denby’s life had changed since the charity had asked Viola to read to a poor-house resident with no family of her own. How much both of their lives had changed.
With this in mind, Emily added, “Mr. Thomson has oversight of the duke’s charitable interests, and is willing to learn more about the Poor’s Friend Society, if you’d like to arrange a meeting.”
Viola beamed. “Indeed I would. Would tomorrow evening at Sea View suit?”
“Perfectly.”
“And may I invite two committee members to join us?”
Mr. Thomson glanced at Emily. “If that is all right with my hosts.”
Emily nodded. “It is.”
The major leaned toward his wife. “Sorry to interrupt, but if we don’t return home soon, Chown will burn the roast mutton again.”
“Good point. Pray excuse us.”
Mr. Thomson bowed. “Of course. Until tomorrow, then.”
The couple took their leave, pushing Mrs. Denby’s wheeled chair ahead of them.
Mr. Thomson returned his gaze to Emily. “And Chown is ...?”
“A former soldier learning to cook as he goes. Our Mrs. Besley has helped him a great deal. Speaking of which, I am starved. I did not have a bite of breakfast.”
He grinned. “Too busy searching for hairpins?”
Her cheeks heated at the memory, and his smile widened.
