Page 51 of The Seaside Homecoming
She raised both hands in frustration. “Then why not just say so? Why all the secrecy?”
“I don’t like talking about it.”
“Why? I would think you’d be proud.”
“Not proud. Just the opposite. I don’t like who I was then. Driven by ambition. Determined to advance, to attain a better post. Perhaps be appointed envoy extraordinary or even ambassador one day.”
“Is there something wrong with ambition?”
“There is when you put it before the wishes of someone you love.”
He gazed morosely into the vague distance. Then he looked back at her as if just remembering she was there.
“I regret those years, and that is the main reason I don’t talk about them. The other is more about expediency. Why would a diplomat who lived in some of the finest embassies in the world leave it all behind to buy a humble seaside boarding house?”
“A natural question.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “And one I don’t wish to answer five times a day. For answering the one inevitably leads to the other.”
“Then why buy a boarding house in the first place?”
“It’s a long story.”
Claire glanced at the rain cascading down the windowpanes. “I am not going anywhere. And we are unlikely to receive any new guests during this.”
He heaved a sigh, then gestured toward a chair. “Very well.” When she was seated, he sat down as well.
For a few moments, he rested his chin on one hand and stared at the maps, apparently gathering his thoughts.
He began, “My wife, Vanita, grew up listening to tales of her father’s idyllic childhood on the English seaside. He promised to take her there one day.”
“Her father was English?” Claire asked in surprise.
“Yes. He went to India to make his fortune, as did many. There he met and married an Indian woman—a young widow with a son. They had Vanita a few years later.
“Unlike many Englishmen, he did not treat Vanita’s mother as an unofficial ‘lady wife’ to be discarded before leaving India. He truly loved her and was devastated when she died.”
“How sad.”
He nodded his agreement. “By that point, her son had grown and left home to become a soldier. He soon fell out of contact with the family.”
“Did you meet Vanita in India?”
He shook his head. “In Vienna. But that’s a story for another day. Suffice it to say, her father was not in good health when I met them, and he died shortly after we wed.”
“Oh no.”
“I promised Vanita I would one day bring her to England in his stead. She wanted our children to grow up in the ideal setting she’d heard about all her life. I tried to caution her about dreams of a perfect life in a perfect England—gently warned her that she might not be accepted in that imagined seaside village she longed to call home. You know how some people can be about foreigners. Especially those with darker skin.”
“So I am learning.”
“But I put off that promised trip to England, accepting one appointment after another. Sadly, Vanita died before I could fulfill my promise.”
“I’m terribly sorry. So much loss.” Claire considered, thenasked, “So you decided to bring Mira here after your wife’s death?”
He nodded. “Better late than never...I hope.”
“One thing I don’t understand. Of all the seaside towns, some far larger and more fashionable than this one, you randomly chose Sidmouth. Why?”
