Page 70 of The Seaside Homecoming
“I also realize you are busy—up early, up late—and have little time for sewing. So I asked Mary to help me carry down the trunk as well. It contains Vanita’s clothing. I have not looked inside since she...” He cleared his throat. “If there is anything that would suit you, please feel free to wear it or make it over for yourself as you like.”
Sonali’s disapproving face appeared in her mind’s eye as Claire said, “But surely Mira will want these for herself one day?”
“She won’t grow into them for at least ten years. You have sisters. Tell me, when Mira is a young lady of fourteen or fifteen, will she be interested in wearing her mother’s gowns, a decade out of fashion?”
Claire chuckled. “Probably not.”
“I would have carried it all the way in for you, but I promised not to enter your room, if you remember. A silly promise now, I think.”
She looked up at him sharply.
“I did not mean... That is...” He grimaced and started again. “I only meant that the promise I extracted from you when you first arrived, ‘I shan’t enter your room and I ask that you not enter mine,’ was boorish of me, I realize now. As if you would.”
Shehadentered his private study, although not his bedroom, if that’s what he’d meant. Her cheeks warmed at the thought, and she made no reply.
“Well.” He straightened. “Shall I drag it inside before I go? Or will you take it from here?”
“I am sure I can push it the last few feet. Or Mary will help me. Again, I thank you. Very considerate.”
She was tempted to ask him about Mr. Thomson’s visit, but courage failed her, especially in the face of his kindness. Shewouldask him, though ... soon.
When he had gone and Claire was sure she was alone, she adopted an unladylike crouch and shoved the trunk over the threshold and into her room. The way was harder going when the trunk came into contact with the carpet, but she managed to wrestle it against one wall.
She was not sure she would feel comfortable wearing one of his wife’s dresses—and Miss Patel would certainly not approve—but perhaps she could make something from the lovely fabrics on top. She picked up a length of light blue lawn and another of spotted cambric. She would not attempt a complicated dress with layers and flounces and fancy trimming. In the past, her mother had hired modistes to make those sorts of gowns for them. Nevertheless, Claire thought she might be able to make a simple day dress with a gathered waist and lacing or a few buttons at the front for ease of dressing. And with the white cotton lawn, perhaps a second nightdress.
She studied a smaller piece of sturdy cotton twill. Maybe she could make short wraparound stays with it. Mary was sometimes late coming down to help her dress. Stays Claire could put on herself would help a great deal. Making a pair really ought to be her first priority ... if only she knew how.
Next, Claire spread out several yards of figured sarcenet silk in a vibrant yellow-green. Not a color she would normally choose, but still a lovely material.
In her eagerness, Claire had left the door open, and Mary appeared on the threshold, eyes alight as she took in the rich and varied fabrics on Claire’s bed.
“How lovely,” she breathed. “Are ye gonna make somethin’?”
“I hope to.”
“Wish I knew how to sew.”
“You never learned?”
Mary shook her head. “Mam died when I was a bairn.”
“I am sorry to hear it. Then your clothes...?”
“Secondhand dealer.”
Claire thought, then said, “I noticed your wraparound stays when we shared a room on the journey here. I’d like to make myself a pair. Might you lend me your spare to use as a pattern?”
“’Course, miss. Happily.”
“I appreciate that. And I’m no dressmaker, but if you’d like to learn to sew, I would be happy to teach you, when our work allows.”
“Truly? How kind ye are. Like the sister I always wanted.”
The words both pricked and comforted. Claire squeezed the girl’s hand. “That is the nicest thing you could say to me, Mary. Thank you.”
17
Uninvited guests seldom meet a welcome.
