Page 62 of The Seaside Homecoming
“Thank you. Baking has become a new pastime of mine. I enjoy it. Speaking of pastimes...” Sarah reached into the fabric bag. “I’ve brought one of your old sketchbooks and some drawing pencils.”
Claire accepted them. “Goodness. I have not sketched in far too long. Thank you, Sarah.”
“You are welcome. We were not able to bring everything when we moved, but I did save these in case you should want them one day.” She handed over a leather volume with gilt border. “Your prayer book. And these embroidered gloves and fichu. You were always such a fine needlewoman.” She handed them over as well.
Claire ran a finger over the decorative stitches and then rested her hand on the prayer book, keeping her head bowed.
In a small voice, she said, “It must have been difficult when Papa died—losing him and Finderlay too. Having to move.”
Sarah drew a long breath as she considered her reply. “It was difficult. I can’t pretend otherwise. Nothing was the same after you left. Papa was furious—with the pair of you and with himself too. Nor can I deny the situation ... the distress ... contributed to his attack.” Sarah went on gently, “But we were always going to lose Finderlay at some point. You mustn’t feel guilty for that. And in hindsight, I cannot regret the move. Oddly, I think we are all happier in Sidmouth than we were in May Hill. Well, except perhaps for Mamma. Yet her health has improved since coming here. So as much as she misses Papa, I don’t think she regrets the move either.”
Claire nodded her understanding and lifted the items from her lap. “Thank you again for keeping these for me.”
“Oh! There’s one more thing. Most of the family jewelry was listed in the entail and had to be left behind. But I saved these earrings.”
Claire accepted them. “I remember these! A gift for my eighteenth birthday.” The dainty gold earrings each held a tiny red garnet. “I am happy to have them back. Do you know ... they remind me of a necklace Aunt Mercer left to me.”
“I am surprised she left you anything. I had always gathered she was something of a dragon.”
“She was—at least at first. But she softened toward the end.”
Sarah studied Claire’s profile, then asked, “How did you spend your time there?”
“In penance, I suppose you might say. Serving Aunt Mercer, attending services at the kirk, reading Fordyce’s sermons and anything else she or her minister assigned.”
“Sounds awful.”
“Not awful. Merely dull. Bleak. Boring. Yet I had a roof over my head, food, and warm clothes. I was not deprived, except for affection. And as Aunt Mercer often reminded me, my life there was a better fate than I deserved.”
“I am not so sure about that,” Sarah said, then glanced at Claire’s neck. “You don’t wear the necklace?”
“I’m ashamed to say I had to surrender it to a pawn dealer to pay for Mary’s and my coach fare.”
Sarah felt her brows rise. “I have never ventured into such an establishment. How did you even know where to find one?”
“I asked for directions. Thankfully it was not far from Aunt Mercer’s house.”
“What was the necklace like?”
“A scrollwork cross with a small ruby at the center on a thin gold chain.”
Sarah asked a few more questions about the novel experience: if she had received a fair price for the necklace and if the proprietor had given her a receipt or claim ticket, et cetera.
Claire answered her, then said, “I only had the necklace for a few days, but I’d seen it around Aunt Mercer’s neck nearly every Sunday for two years. I was sorry to leave it behind. Coming here, however, was more important.”
Sarah nodded and squeezed her hand. “And we are very glad you did.”
When Sarah returned to Sea View a short while later, she went into the library-office and sat at the desk, pulling forth paper, quill, and ink. For a moment, she hesitated. Then, reminding herself of what he’d said in his previous letter, she began to write:
Dear Mr. Henshall,
In your last letter, you said that if there was anything else you could do for us, to not hesitate to let you know. I hope you will not regret that offer after receiving this second letter from me.
I fear I am becoming greatly in your debt, but I wonder if I might request another favor....
After her duties were finished for the evening, Claire lit a lamp in her room and sat down with the sketchbook Sarah had returned to her. The book contained mostly empty pages, but at the front were several sketches she had done years before. How strange to see them again, these moments of the past captured like flies in yellow amber, like butterflies pinned in place.
And, oh, the memories that accompanied the simple images.
