Page 131 of A Winter By the Sea
“Me?” Panic crossed Mamma’s face.
“In lieu of Papa, yes.”
“Good heavens. What shall I say?”
“How can I tell you what to say when I don’t know what to say myself?” Emily blew Mamma a kiss and left the room.
She walked down the passage and wandered across the hall. She paused once again below the large painting of Finderlay, their former home.
How Emily had resented being torn from all she had known, the house she loved, the village where she had grown up, and all her neighbors and friends—Charles Parker most of all. For months, all Emily had wanted was to return home. And she’d known the only way that would happen was if Charles realized his mistake and came to Sidmouth to rescue her. To marry her and take her back to May Hill.
The house was lost to them forever—passed to their father’s heir. But the village would have been close enough.
If she married Charles, they would probably live in May Park, his family’s estate, which Charles would one day inherit. She could stand at its windows and gaze upon the lovely tree-topped hill that had given the village its name. She could pay calls on old friends and neighbors. Sit in the Parkers’ family box at the parish church. Share Charles’s life and bed. Bear his children. All she’d ever wanted. All except to remain in close contact with her mother and sisters, which would be difficult from such a distance, although not impossible. After all, she was an excellent letter writer.
Oh, Lord, she prayed again.Please give me wisdom.
———
After that, Emily decided she needed to talk to someone who knew her better than anyone else on earth did. Someone who loved her despite her many foibles and would tell her the truth.
Pulling on a hooded mantle, Emily hurried over to Westmount to talk to Viola.
As soon as the two were seated near the fire, Emily confided her dilemma.
In reply, Viola began, “First of all, I am astonished and honestly impressed that you did not accept him immediately, after so many years spent besotted with him. That shows a new maturity. I hope that does not sound critical—we are still young, after all.”
“Don’t you like Charles?” Emily asked. “Please. Tell me honestly.”
“I never said I did not like him. I do. Nor did I say he would not be a good match. He would be—for someone. But, Emily, I know you. You would chafe under his rigid propriety, as well as his mother’s.”
“You never mentioned this in the past.”
“You would not have listened! You never expressed any doubts before. I think this time apart has given us all new perspective.”
Emily nodded. “So much has changed.”
“And much of it for the better, in my view. Do you still wish you could leave Sidmouth and go home?”
Emily sighed. “I am not certain. Is May Hill really home any longer?”
Viola held her gaze. “Not for me.”
“I admit I am no longer as eager to leave here as I once was. But to marry Charles Parker? There was a time I would have done anything to make that happen. I cannot believe I am hesitating!”
“Will he support your writing?”
The question caught Emily off guard. “I ... I gather he would not be eager for me to publish under my own name, but he would not forbid me.”
“Neither would he encourage you, would he?”
“I don’t know.”
“And here is another question for you to consider. What would happen if Claire returned one day and rejoined our family, as we both sincerely hope she will? How would Charles react?”
Emily’s stomach dropped. “I don’t know. Did you tell Jack about Claire before you wed?”
Her sister nodded. “I told him everything, and it did not impede him in the least. Then again, Jack cares nothing for the opinion of society. Whereas Charles...”
