Page 80 of A Winter By the Sea
“Excellent. We dine at six.”
He glanced at his watch. “Normally I would dress for dinner, but...”
Mamma’s gaze swept over his dark, immaculate attire. “No need. You are perfect as you are. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall just let Sarah and Mrs. Besley know.”
When she had gone, Emily stood there, unsure what to do. Then she said, “We have a little time. Would you like to see more of the house? I think you saw only the parlour when last you were here.”
He looked at her earnestly. “I would very much like to see where you spend your time nowadays. I can tell you May Hill has not been the same since you left.”
At his words, Emily’s heart leapt.
She led him through the more formal drawing room intothe dining room. There, his gaze was drawn to the patterned china already set on the table. Sarah’s work, no doubt.
He mused, “Ah, the many meals I have eaten from these.”
Emily felt a rush of pleasure that he should remember them.
“Your parents kindly invited me to join you for many dinners at Finderlay, you may recall. Birthdays, holidays, or simply when I happened to be there and put off taking my leave until the dinner hour. Your family meals were more enjoyable than ours, filled with pleasant talk and friendly teasing. Far more so than at our house, where every meal was like a lesson in table manners and decorum.”
Yes, his mother had always been a stickler for proper behavior, a trait she had passed on to Charles and his sister.
Emily said, “I think Papa liked having another male around the place.”
“Yes. ‘Reinforcements,’ he’d call me.”
They walked on, through the breakfast room and back to the parlour. Emily added, “I think he saw you as something of the son he never had.”
Charles nodded. “He even took me shooting a few times. Fishing too. Those were good times for me.”
Emily’s eyes heated at this fond memory of her father. She’d too often allowed the difficult months after his apoplexy to blot out the happier years before it. He had been so angry after Claire’s departure, although at the time Emily had not known about the failed elopement and attempt to retrieve her, nor understood his bitterness.
Charles said, “I am sorry I was not there to support you when he had his attack.”
“Perhaps you should be glad not to have witnessed the change in him.”
Charles shook his head. “I am not glad. It was wrong of me to leave you all the way I did.”
Emily wanted to ask him why he had. But courage failed her.
Georgiana and Sarah joined them in the parlour, and Emily relayed the story of her fall to explain her bandaged hand. Mr. Gwilt returned from the hotel and told Charles his message had been delivered and Mr. and Mrs. Parker wished them all a pleasant evening.
Just before six, they made their way into the dining room together. Mamma was already there, lighting the candles, and Jessie and Mr. Gwilt stood ready to wait at table. After a moment’s qualm, Emily directed Charles to sit in James’s usual place, and introduced him to their other guests.
Despite her initial reservations, it was a delight to have Charles at their table once again. He was charming throughout, teasing Georgiana, recounting good memories of Papa as well as anecdotes from their shared childhoods. Emily enjoyed watching the faces of her mother and sisters, awash in nostalgic glow, as they listened and laughed and offered memories of their own.
Mr. Hornbeam asked a few insightful questions, while Mr. Bernardi and Mr. During seemed content to remain quiet, allowing the ladies to converse unimpeded with an old friend from home.
Emily wondered if the mood would have been more constrained had Mr. Thomson joined them. Perhaps she should be relieved he had not.
———
Later that night, after Charles had left, Emily retreated into the office and sat down to see if she could write. Thankfully, Sarah had already lit the library lamp.
First, she tried holding the pen in her wrapped right hand. The tight, bulky bandages made it almost impossible to grip the thin quill, and the first word she attempted was illegible.Then she tried dipping the quill and writing with her left hand. The result? Even worse.
Emily clumsily set down the quill, held her head in her good hand, and groaned aloud.
She could ask someone in her family to help her, yet she hesitated to do so. Sarah was always busy. Viola was newly married and active in charitable works. Mamma needed her rest now that she was helping more around the house. And Georgiana ... well, her scrawl was atrocious.
