Page 19 of The Seaside Homecoming
I toldhim I had written to let my sister know wewere coming and asked if she had received my letter.
He looked abashed and said, ‘I don’t think so.The mistress was tetchy about the post. And Miss Summerssaid nothing to me about receiving visitors. I doubt themistress would have allowed it, truth be told.’
That gotJack’s back up, I can tell you. I couldsee he was about to say something like, ‘I wouldlike to see her try to stop us.’ ... Until Iquickly reminded him that Aunt Mercer’s interference had cometo an end.
The butler could not or would nottell us where Claire had gone, even when the majoroffered him a financial incentive for his trouble.
Even so,I pressed him, asking if he was certain Claire hadsaid nothing about where she was going, or mentioned goinghome. He replied, and I quote, ‘No, ma’am. Infact, she said home was the one place she couldnot go.’
He did give us the direction of AuntMercer’s lawyer, and we visited his office the sameafternoon. Mr. Dumfries was at first hesitant to share anydetails, client confidentiality and all that, but when he learnedI was one of Claire’s sisters, concerned for herwell-being, he decided no harm would be done bydivulging that Claire had been given an allowance before shedeparted, so at least we know she is not destitute. Like the butler, Mr. Dumfries insisted he had no ideaof her future plans, although he requested she write tolet him know when she was settled.
We have askedthe lawyer to assure Claire of our assistance and supportshould she contact him again. There seems little else wecan do for now. We continue to Loch Katrine tomorrowbefore we start the journey home. Loch Katrine, you mayknow, was made famous by Walter Scott’s ‘The Ladyof the Lake.’ I thought you (Emily especially) would findthat interesting.
Yours with love,
Viola”
Georgiana looked at each of them, expression troubled. “‘Home was the one place she could not go’? Why would she think that? How sad!”
Mamma, Sarah noticed, fidgeted in her chair. She balled the linen napkin on her lap before smoothing it out again.
“So we know nothing more than we did before,” Emily said, “except she left...”
“Sounds like she had to leave.”
“...and is not coming home.”
Oh, Claire, Sarah thought.Where have you gone?
Mamma rose and said briskly, “Well, as Viola said, there is little else we can do. We tried.”
“We can pray for her, surely.”
“That goes without saying.” At the door Mamma turned back. “I pray for each of you every day of my life and shan’t stop now.”
And her strident voice did nothing to disguise the sheen of tears in her eyes.
6
Many gentlemen in their morning walks have attempted to introduce a sort of shooting dress, parading in a short coat of any light colour, and with Kerseymere gaiters coming up to the knees.
—Le Beau Mondemagazine
The bespectacled woman and her companion had alighted in Exeter, but the well-dressed man continued on with them to Sidmouth. The coach set them down in the stable yard opposite the London Inn. There, the man retrieved his case, bowed to them, and departed on foot.
After asking the porter for directions, Claire and Mary walked a few streets over and across the marketplace to a three-story house with a parapet on the roof.
On the right, a wrought-iron fence enclosed an outside stairway leading down to the basement servants’ area.
On the left, pots of dried sea grasses and a similar wrought-iron rail framed the few steps that led to the front entrance. On one side of the door sat a small bench, and on the other hung a sign:Broadbridge’s Boarding House. The name strucka chord in Claire’s memory. Although at the moment she was too nervous to stop and work out why.
Mary had become nauseated during the last stage of the trip and even now appeared pale and shaky. Leading her to the bench beside the door, Claire said, “Here, sit down.”
When the girl had done so, Claire set their cases at her feet, straightened, and smoothed her bodice, pulse racing. Here was her chance to reside and earn her own livelihood in Sidmouth, without presuming on her family. Would she be too late?
Drawing a deep inhale, Claire knocked. Waited. No response.
She knocked again.
