Page 23 of The Seaside Homecoming
She drew out the notes.
He hesitated, then laid out a flat palm. “I have never taken money from a woman before.”
“And I have never entered into any such arrangement before.”
He nodded and pocketed the notes. “New ground for us both, then.”
In the hall, he invited Mary to join them and briefly showed them the guest dining room on the same floor. Then he led them up the stairs to the first floor, pointing out the small parlour, simply furnished guest rooms, water closet, and bath-room with a single tub. He frowned at the dirty mirror and pile of wet towels on the floor.
“It’s odd how you don’t notice the state of things until you see it through a visitor’s eyes.” He turned to the housemaid. “Mary, was it?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Miss Summers was right. You are hired.”
“Oh, thank ye!”
“We had better continue up to the attic, then. Several bedchambers there for you to choose from.”
They ascended the next flight of stairs together. At the top Claire noticed two doors to the left of the stairs and a line of doors to the right.
“These two on the left are for guests who want more economical lodging and don’t mind the stairs. The first two rooms on the right are occupied, but those farther down are open. Mary, why don’t you take a look and pick one for yourself.”
As Mary disappeared through an open door down the passage, one of the closer doors burst open and a small figure flew out and hurled itself at Mr. Hammond. He crouched at the last moment and swept the child into his arms.
“Papa! I heard your voice.”
“Did you have a good nap, my little pumpion?”
He has a daughter. ...Claire realized with surprise.
The little girl nodded, dark hair swinging around a face the color of creamed coffee.
“Say ‘good day’ to Miss Summers.”
Dark eyes swiveled to Claire. “Good day.”
“This is Mira,” Mr. Hammond said, expression warm with paternal pride as he grinned at the child of perhaps four or five years of age.
Was the woman she had met this child’s mother? With the girl’s coloring, it was certainly possible, even probable.
That woman herself appeared in the doorway. “Come, Mira. We should change your frock.”
Mira nodded and said something Claire did not understand as her father set her down.
The woman gazed at the girl with approval. Then with a sly glance at Claire, she admonished, “English. She does not speak Tamil.”
Mira turned back to Claire. “Sonali is teaching me some words in her language, but I speak English best.”
Charmed by her big eyes, pretty face, and ready smile, Claire was instantly taken with the little girl. Far less so with the woman. Perhaps she was not the girl’s mother, unlessSonalimeantMammain her language.
As if guessing her thoughts, Mr. Hammond said, “I believe you have already met Miss Patel. Sonali, this is Miss Summers, come to help manage the boarding house.”
Miss Patel gave her a terse nod of acknowledgment, then turned the girl toward her room. Mira sent them a cheerful wave, and the two retreated from sight.
When the door shut behind them, Claire asked quietly, “Is...is she your...?”
“She serves as Mira’s nursery-governess.”
