Page 135 of The Seaside Homecoming
“Oh, Claire, I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.”
Claire nodded her agreement. “Thankfully I had enough money to travel on to Edinburgh. I knew I could not go home, that I had forfeited my place there by my own reckless mistakes.”
“And his. He must own the greatest part of the blame.”
Claire shrugged. “I knew better.”
“How strange it must be for you, with that very man staying here now.”
“It is strange. He is being polite and discreet, which I appreciate. Yet I feel so guilty.”
“About ... what happened between you before?”
“Well, of course, but...” Claire paused to consider, struck with the realization that she felt nearly as guilty about keeping the truth from Mr. Hammond.
“I hope it was not a secret,” Sarah began. “Viola stopped by after seeing you yesterday and told Emily and me in confidence that he wants to marry you. We haven’t told Mamma or Georgie, who cannot keep a secret, sorry to say.”
“I don’t mind you knowing. Honestly, I’m not sure hewantsto marry me, although he says he does. He insists a lack of funds was the only reason he cried off before.”
Claire toyed with the gold chain. “I don’t know why I’m hesitating. Many men marry for money and many women to repair a reputation.”
“Is there another reason you hesitate?”
When Claire did not immediately answer, Sarah asked, “Is it Mr. Hammond?”
Claire looked down and lowered her voice. “Between you and me, I have come to admire him. In other circumstances... But I have ruined things by coming here under false pretenses. And by keeping my past mistakes from him. He’s bound to learn the truth at some point, and then he’ll never look at me as he does now.”
“Can you not tell him? Before he hears it from someone else?”
“Perhaps I shall,” Claire replied. “Once I find the courage.” Silently, she added,Though if I marry Lord Bertram, I shall not have to.
After Sarah left, Claire stared at herself in the looking glass. The ruby and gold cross looked lovely at her neck, yet the blue eyes that gazed back at her appeared weary. Drained. What had become of the person she used to be? She stared at the pale woman of eight and twenty years and whispered, “Who are you?”
She had once known who she was and liked who she was: the cherished eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Summers. The older sister to Sarah, Emily, Viola, and Georgiana, who had all looked up to her. Loved, trusted, and valued her. Emily had even wanted to emulate her.
She had been held in high esteem by elderly neighbors and young people alike. Responsible, honest, dutiful. And destined to marry well, or so they’d thought. Able to hold her head high in church, instead of hiding in the back.
Then, after one impetuous mistake, all of that had vanished. No longer valued and cherished, at least not by her parents. No longer worthy of being admired, trusted, or emulated by her sisters. If she accepted Lord Bertram, might she regain some of what she had lost?
One of her own thoughts echoed back to her,Able to hold her head high in church.Was that important? Was that even true? She’d once considered herself a good person, acceptable to God and worthy of His love. But had she been, even then? As she stroked the cross pendant, words Aunt Mercer had spoken resounded through her mind once more.“The cross alone renders sinners acceptable to God.”
If true, Claire thought, then perhaps no one should enter church with head held high. For no one was good enough on their own. And certainly not her.
Then again, as a believer, she was a child of God—a merciful and loving God, thankfully, as Mrs. Denby had said. And in that sense, Claire supposed she could still hold her head high in church or anywhere. Not because she was good or worthy, but because her heavenly Father was.
And a good and holy God did not want her to prevaricate.
She knew then that it was more important to be honest than to try to preserve the appearance of respectability. It was time to stop hiding, as Mrs. Denby had advised. And it was time to apologize to Mr. Hammond. To confess all andlet the consequences come ... even if that meant losing any hope of a future with him.
On Sunday night, Claire again found Mr. Hammond on the rooftop with his telescope. This time she carried her candle lamp out onto the roof-walk, because she needed to see his face.
At her approach, he straightened and turned.
“Mr. Hammond, I ... I must tell you something.”
He stiffened as if preparing for a blow. “Do I want to know?”
“Unlikely, but you will hear sooner or later, and I would rather you heard it from me.”
