Page 67 of A Winter By the Sea
Sarah went downstairs, going first to the office to see if Emily knew anything about the letter.
When she entered, Emily quickly slid one piece of paper under another before lifting her face with a guilty look. Wasshe carrying on a secret correspondence with Claire? Sarah didn’t think Emily would hide that from her, but perhaps she’d feared it had been their mother approaching. Mamma would definitely not approve.
Sarah decided not to pry. Instead she said, “I saw Mr. During just now. He received a letter, apparently?”
“Yes. I gave it to him a short while ago. He seemed pleased about it.”
“Did he happen to say who it was from?”
Emily considered. “Not exactly. Something about ‘News from home. Good news, I hope.’”
Having witnessed Mr. During’s reaction, Sarah doubted it.
Sarah thanked her sister, retrieved her mantle, and went to find the man, nervous to intrude but compelled to offer comfort if she could.
He was still outside, now sitting on the garden bench, head in his hands.
Hearing her footsteps on the gravel path, he glanced up and straightened. His face looked sickly white, his eyes large and almost glazed. He blinked and gathered himself with visible effort.
He started to rise until Sarah said gently, “Please, stay as you are. May I join you a moment?”
He said nothing but moved his hat to make room for her.
“Mr. During, are you all right? I don’t mean to intrude, but I noticed you from the window, and you are obviously upset.”
“I...” He hesitated, staring off into the distance, then he frowned and said, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Really? Well, then, forgive me. I saw you pacing. I thought perhaps something in that letter upset you. Emily mentioned a letter from home.”
He glanced down at the crumpled paper poking out from his fist.
“Oh, that. Well. Not the best news, no. But nothing you need be concerned about.”
Sarah studied his countenance. He was clearly reluctant to confide in her.
She asked gently, “May I help in some way?”
“Ha.” The chortle was a bleak one. “Help is an expensive commodity. And one few of us can afford. No, nothing you can do, Miss Summers. I will manage things.” He glanced up, and perhaps seeing her dubious expression, added, “Even so, thank you for asking. Very kind of you to concern yourself with the private affairs of your guests.”
Message received. It was none of her business.
Sarah rose. “Very well. If you change your mind, please do let me know.”
That afternoon, Sarah joined her family in the parlour. Viola and Fran Stirling came over as well. As usual, they were all eager to catch up on the latest news in town and in each other’s lives.
After enjoying tea, small cakes, and general conversation for a time, Fran set down her teacup and announced, “I have news, ladies. I am engaged to be married. You are looking at the future Mrs. Farrant.”
They all congratulated her and asked questions about her upcoming nuptials and plans to sell Broadbridge’s.
But privately, Sarah was surprised. When she had last spoken to Miss Stirling, she had seemed reluctant. What had changed?
As if reading her thoughts, Fran turned to her and said, “I am not getting any younger. And Mr. Farrant is a kind, hardworking man.”
Viola nodded encouragingly. “Not to mention skilled, respected, and if I may be so bold, rather handsome.”
Fran blushed, eyes shining. “I quite agree.”
“We ought to do something to celebrate,” Mamma began. “Let me think on it....”
