Page 168 of A Winter By the Sea
Satisfaction glimmered in the man’s eyes. “Oh yes.”
———
Emily hurried to Marsh’s establishment, anxious and queasy with concern for the man. Despite his liberties with the guidebook, she was sincerely sorry to hear his business was failing.
She found him in his library and public rooms, alone, the place emptier and more echoing than before.
“Oh, Mr. Marsh! I just heard.”
“Bad news travels fast, ey?”
“Is this why you were in such a hurry to get the guidebook printed?”
He nodded. “Much good it will do me now.”
“Will the sales not help you?”
“Not enough. It will be a case of too little, too late.”
“Oh no. What will you do?”
He shrugged.
“I am sorry. For your sake and for the town’s sake.”
He sent her a knowing look. “Not for yours?”
“Yes, for my sake too. And Mr. Gwilt’s.”
He winced. “About that. I said I would help you, and despite everything I am not without honor.” He reached into a desk drawer and withdrew a calling card. “Here is a card of a colleague of mine. I have written to him about your uncle’s book. I think it will be right in his line. I will let you know when he replies.”
She accepted the card. “Thank you, Mr. Marsh. I will let Mr. Gwilt know.”
His usually bright eyes were dull. “I realize I have let you down. But I do have contacts. I will do all I can to help you find a publisher for your novel as well.”
“That is very kind.” Now if only she could, would, finally complete it!
As if reading her doubtful thoughts, he said, “Don’t wait too long. Remember, nothing ventured, nothing gained.” He exhaled a deep breath and stared bleakly across his prized library. “Or lost.”
32
Who can be in doubt of what followed?
—Jane Austen,Persuasion
Emily slumped into one of the armchairs in the library-office with a weary sigh.So much for that.Now that Mr. Marsh was facing bankruptcy, Emily feared her publishing aspirations were at an end. They had certainly suffered a major setback. Mr. Wallis had seemed amenable to the idea of her editing or proofreading for him, but he was still not interested in publishing Mr. Gwilt’s book or her own.
Yet that disappointment seemed minor in comparison with her dejection over James Thomson, who was due to leave the next day. She had seen little of him in the last few days and imagined he was busy closing up Woolbrook. She hoped he would at least say good-bye before he left.
Emily pressed a hand over her heart, trying to massage it through bone and flesh. It physically ached. Unbidden, the fortune-teller’s words returned to her once more.“You shall break yourheart. Lose it ... utterly.”
At the time, Emily had thought the words must be about Charles. Now she knew she’d been wrong, for she had utterlylost her heart to James Thomson, and that heart was indeed breaking.
She reminded herself she did not believe in such things and willed the words from her memory. The woman’s prophecy was not real. Though the pain in her chest most assuredly was.
James himself came in just then, an odd expression on his face.
Emily rose and steeled herself. “Have you come to say good-bye?”
