Page 148 of The Seaside Homecoming
Claire breathed in deep, wanting to press close.
He gave her one of his wry grins, and then those quirked lips touched hers in a light kiss, leaving her wanting more.
He wrapped an arm around her and drew her against him, raising his head to press kisses to her cheek, her forehead, the tip of her nose.
“And kiss you good morning, good afternoon, and good life to come.”
She giggled until his mouth descended on hers once more, kissing her more deeply. She slid a hand to the back of his neck, drawing him closer yet.
The door creaked open, and Mamma appeared in her dressing gown. “That’s enough, you two.”
“One more minute, Mamma.”
“Very well. I shall be watching the clock.” There was a smile in her voice, and Claire knew her mother wished to make sure she felt cared for. That this trip, with nights spent in an inn with a man, would not be nights she regretted.
Mamma added, “I trust you will treat my daughter with propriety, Mr. Hammond.”
“Of course. I would not have it any other way.”
“She is a lady, after all. A respectable female.”
“As I am well aware.”
“Good.”
Mamma closed the door, and Claire fell into more giggles, muffling them against his broad chest. “Though sadly not quite the respectable female you advertised for.”
He remained serious, slipped a gentle finger under her chin,and lifted her gaze to his. “You, my dear, far exceeded anything I could have wished for, just as you are.”
“Oh my...” She leaned on tiptoes and kissed him again.
Instead of pressing his advantage, he pulled her into his arms in a tight embrace. The sweetest, most satisfying embrace of her life. “I love you, Claire,” he murmured near her ear.
Claire shut her eyes tight to relish the moment. “And I love you.”
The next day they reached the parish church of All Saints. It held only a small graveyard, but her father, being prominent in the parish, had been laid to rest there.
Claire could hardly believe she was really here, walking among the headstones, chest tombs, and Celtic crosses adorning the sleepy, shady graveyard of her childhood church.
Memories played at the edges of her mind. Leaving the church as a family after a service, Sarah holding little Georgiana’s hand, Viola and Emily giggling together, Claire taking her father’s arm as they walked down the path, him smiling down at her.“And how is the prettiest girl in the county?”
A later memory, of finding Sarah there, crying over the loss of her Peter, lamenting his burial at sea that meant no gravestone, no lasting memorial.
And finally, the last time she was here—attending an evensong service during that ill-fated house party. Although there had been nothing godly in the way Lord Bertram had looked at her...
That memory she quickly cast from her mind.
Near the gate, Georgiana talked to a former neighbor girl and petted a stray cat, while Claire walked on, reading epitaphs, until she found it.
Here Lies
Harold Summers
Beloved Husband and Father
1763–1818
May he rest in peace.
