Page 91 of A Winter By the Sea
“And for you?”
She looked up and held his gaze, trying to decipher what she saw there. She was tempted to say,“That is up to you.”But she did not.
Instead she said, “Well. Shall we go and find Mamma and Georgiana? They will want to see you.”
“Very well.”
When they stepped into the entry hall, Charles’s attention was caught by the large landscape on the wall. He walked toward it. “Finderlay. Can’t believe I did not notice it when last I was here.”
Emily followed him, and the two stood beneath the gilt frame, gazing up at the painting of the Summerses’ former home—a fine house set among lime trees, well-tended gardens, and sprawling parkland.
He added, “It was like a second home to me.”
“Do you never go there now?” she asked. Since her father’s death, their Gloucestershire estate, entailed through the male line, had gone to a relative they barely knew.
“No. I paid one call to your father’s heir to welcome him to the neighborhood, and to see what kind of man he was. I confess I found him rather cold and unwelcoming.”
That had been Emily’s impression as well, the few times she had met him after Papa’s death.
For several minutes, Charles and Emily stood there, talking about their former neighbors and other people they knew, village life and fêtes, their adolescent treks up May Hill, and a few childhood escapades they hadnotshared with Mamma. And the longer they talked, the more the formality and awkwardness between them faded. Emilybegan to wish she had not suggested seeking out Mamma and Georgie.
“Do you know,” Emily confessed, “there was a time I thought you liked one of my older sisters.”
“Really?” He chuckled and shook his head. “I admit I thought Claire pretty—all the lads did—but she was older and seemed far above me. And I’ve always liked Sarah though not romantically. No, there was only one Miss Summers I was ever interested in.”
Emily’s throat tightened. “Was there?”
He nodded. “Although not at first. At first she was just a pesky neighbor girl. Following me about. Asking endless questions. Begging me to read to her when her sisters refused.” A fond smile teased his lips.
“I remember.”
“But as she grew into adulthood, she grew in beauty and self-assurance. As I spent more time with her, my regard for her grew as well.”
Pulse racing, Emily whispered, “I remember that too.”
Their gazes caught and held. Emily felt herself sway toward him, very like that final night of the house party when she had been so sure he’d been about to kiss her, and to ask for her hand.
Georgiana came skipping into the hall. “Charles! I thought I heard your voice!”
Emily jerked back.
“Georgiana,” he said. “How are you?” If he was annoyed at the interruption, he hid it well.
“Excellent, thank you. Though I wish the weather would warm. I have not been able to play cricket in ages. You were the one who taught me, remember? It seems like forever ago, does it not? I play with some of the local lads when I can. Do you still play?”
Charles listened to the younger girl prattle on and answered her questions patiently, now and again glancing at Emily, a hint of longing in his eyes. Longing laced with remorse? Promise? Whatever it was set her heart to racing.
Soon Mamma joined them as well, ending any hope of more private moments between them.
Before he left, they finalized plans for the ball on Wednesday evening. He offered to come in his family’s chaise to collect her ... and whomever else she chose to bring along.
Later that day, Mr. Thomson once again appeared in the office doorway, a leather ball in hand. He tossed it in the air and caught it with a boyish grin. All traces of his earlier pique had disappeared.
“What do you have there?” Emily asked.
“A new ball for the school.”
“Where did you get it?”
