Page 107 of The Seaside Homecoming
He stepped inside and she took his hat and hung it on a peg. “I believe she is upstairs with her father. Why don’t you wait with Miss Patel while I let her know you are here.”
She led him into the morning room, where Sonali sat stitching. “I will return as soon as I can.”
On her way up the stairs, she heard Sonali say, “It’s first names now, is it? I suppose you admire Miss Summers as Mr. Hammond does. Yet I wonder if she is all she appears to be.”
Claire paused, hand tight on the railing, and held her breath.
“Jealousy does not become you, Miss Patel,” he replied.
Sonali huffed. “Of course you defend her. But I doubt she is as respectable as she pretends. A supposedly genteel young lady traveling to Scotland alone? Is that not where the English go for the elopements? And now she is here and not living with her family? Most suspicious.”
Voice cool and clipped, Armaan said, “Let me make something perfectly plain. Major Hutton is my closest friend. His wife, whom I also esteem, is sister to Miss Summers. If you think I will thank you for spreading malicious gossip about her, you are wrong. I want nothing to do with it. And if you think I would be interested in a mean-spirited woman, even were she the only Indian woman in all of England, you are quite mistaken.”
A chair squealed as it was pushed back.
“Mr. Sagar, wait!” Sonali called. “I am sorry, and ashamed. I deserved that rebuke. Please forgive me.”
“It is not me you have wronged.”
Claire hurried up the stairs, blood roaring in her ears. She felt as ashamed as Sonali claimed to be. For as much as she appreciated Armaan’s defense, she knew she did not deserve it.
Some time later, while Mira was occupied with her father and uncle, Sonali came and found her belowstairs.
Claire stiffened, bracing herself for another unpleasant confrontation.
Instead the woman said, “I wish to apologize, Miss Summers. I have been resentful and bitter and mean. In truth, I have felt threatened by you—afraid to lose my place in this family. Yet my uncertain situation is not your fault. I have wronged you, and I hope you will forgive me.”
Claire stood there, momentarily rendered speechless. For even if this apology had been prompted by what Armaan had said, the humble contrition in the woman’s expression seemed utterly sincere.
Claire laid a hand on her arm, half expecting the woman to throw it off. “I forgive you. And I hope we can be friends.”
Tears brightened Sonali’s large, dark eyes. “I would very much like that. I have missed having a friend.”
When Claire entered the morning room later that day, Mr. Hammond looked up from the day’s post. “Ah. Just the person I was thinking of. Sir Thomas Acland has invited me to an evening party at his estate. Probably to introduce me to a few other politicians and local officials. There’s a rumor the Russian ambassador and his wife may also be there. Will you accompany me?”
Claire drew up in surprise. “Me? No. I could not attend uninvited.”
“The invitation is addressed to myself and a guest of my choosing. I choose you.”
Claire’s body warmed, heart tingling at his words.
“That is kind of you, but ... how would we get there?”
“I suppose I will have to hire a post chaise or at least a horse and gig.”
And the two of them would journey alone together at night?
As if guessing her thoughts, he said, “Perhaps Mary might accompany us.”
Claire replied, “Let me think about it, if you don’t mind. When is it to be?”
“In one week.”
Claire turned away, mind and stomach churning. She hesitated to accept the invitation for more than propriety’s sake. She knew Mr. Hammond was attracted to her and might be growing attached to her. She should tell him everything and walk away. Allow him to find someone else—someone who truly deserved him.
But she did not want to walk away.
The next day, Emily and Viola came to the boarding house again. Emily handed her a piece of embossed stationery that looked strangely familiar.
