Page 130 of The Seaside Homecoming
Did he assume she shared Mary’s predicament? Heat rushed up her neck and spread to her face at the thought.
“No. I ... no. Nothing like that. Our brief courtship ended two years ago.”
“Ah. That’s a relief.”
A relief for him, or...?
Perhaps seeing her confusion, he added, “In that you don’t need to rush into anything. Or make a rash decision you might later regret.”
Oh, if only he knew how many regrets she already had. Claire’s sour stomach twisted. She had painted herself an innocent in this partial explanation. How differently Mr. Hammond would respond if he knew the whole truth.
Feeling uneasy and restless, Claire told Mr. Hammond she was stepping out again for a short while. She needed fresh air. A change of scene. She needed ... She didn’t know what she needed.
Instead of the beach, this time her feet traveled north up Fore Street as if of their own accord.
Reaching the poor house near the river, Claire paused onlybriefly before entering the brick building. Inside, she passed an elderly gentleman snoring in a chair in the communal dining room before walking down the corridor to Mrs. Denby’s room.
Claire knocked tentatively, and a voice bid her to enter. When she did, the woman graced her with a smile and warm welcome.
“Ah! Miss Claire. You came. I am so very glad.”
“I forgot to bring tea or anything else.”
“No matter. Your presence is the best treat of all. Besides, Sarah gave me a packet of biscuits just yesterday, and now I am doubly glad I resisted eating them all in one go.” She held the packet toward her.
When Claire hesitated, she said, “Go on, love. Looks you need something sweet more than I do.”
Claire took a bite, and the sweet, chewy pastry soothed her. Sitting down, she said, “I realize we are not well acquainted, but may I ask you a personal question?”
“Yes, my dear. You may ask me anything.”
“Have you ever done anything wrong? Anything you’re ashamed of?”
Sadness tinged the woman’s eyes, and her cheerful mouth turned downward. “Oh, my dear girl. At my age? Of course I have. Many things. Many regrets. But do you know ... for years, I hid away here. Too ashamed to go out. To go to church. To the shops. To see my old friends. But when I did—thanks to your sister Viola—what did I find? Forgiveness. Friendship. Freedom.”
“Really?”
“Yes, my dear. Whatever it is, don’t keep it hidden. Burdens only grow heavier the longer we bear them alone. And you are not alone. For we all have sinned and fallen short.”
Claire nodded, thinking of the many times Aunt Mercer had reminded her of her sin. “And God is a righteous judge.”
“Yes, yet He is also merciful and loving. Whoever believes in Him shall not be ashamed.” The old woman pressed her hand with knobby fingers. “I shall be praying for you, dear heart.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Denby. I have no trouble understanding why my sisters esteem you so highly.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual.”
As if on cue, someone knocked on the door, and Viola herself stuck her head in.
Mrs. Denby beamed at her. “Ah, just in time, Viola. Come in and see who else has visited me. Am I not most blessed?”
Viola’s mouth parted in surprise. “Claire! I was planning to call on you after this. How are you?”
“Unsettled, truth be told, and found myself in need of a chat with Mrs. Denby.”
“I don’t blame you at all,” Viola said with a fond look at the older woman. “A visit with this dear lady is often just the tonic I need.”
The two stayed to talk awhile longer. Then Viola walked out with Claire.
