Page 83 of The Seaside Homecoming
“I do not claim any acquaintance with that man,” Mamma said, a decided bite to her tone. “Nor do I wish one.”
“But why?” Persephone Craven asked, limpid eyes wide. “He is most charming. Not to mention a viscount.”
Mrs. Harding said, “Now, Persephone, having a title does not make the man a saint.”
“I don’t know why you are set against him.”
“Not at all, my dear.”
Emily tipped her head to one side. “No? Yet I distinctly remember you warning me about Lord Bertram at a ball last summer. You advised me not to trust him.”
“Did you, Caro?” her brother asked.
“Yes, did you?” echoed her sister, looking ready to cry.
The woman waved a dismissive hand. “I simply mentioned that he flirts with many women without serious intentions.”
Mr. Craven shrugged. “Nothing unusual there.”
And Sarah knew that Claire had been one of those women.
At Broadbridge’s that evening, they hosted a very welcome dinner guest.
Armaan Sagar and Major Hutton had paid a call that afternoon, having been passing Broadbridge’s on some errand. Mr. Hammond invited the men to stay for dinner. Major Hutton politely declined, saying his wife was expecting him, but Armaan accepted.
So while Claire helped Mary serve the boarding-house guests in the dining room, Armaan waited with Mr. Hammond in the next room, the two men chatting over small glasses of arrack.
Miss Patel came down with Mira, and Claire followed them into the morning room, a basket of bread rolls in hand.
Mr. Sagar rose and bowed. “Miss Patel. Miss Summers. A pleasure to see you both again.”
The little girl hurried to him. “And me?”
He picked her up. “Far more than a pleasure. A blessing.”
He spun her around until she giggled.
“Please stop,” Sonali said. “You will upset her digestion.”
“Very well.” He set Mira in a chair and took a seat beside her at the oval table.
Since Claire had not known in advance they were to host a special guest, the dinner was rather ordinary—soup, fish, vegetables—but the company and conversation were excellent.
As they spooned their soup, Mira’s gaze remained fixed on her uncle.
“Do not stare, Mira,” Miss Patel said gently. “It is not polite.”
“I don’t mind,” Armaan assured her.
“I like to look at him,” Mira said. “He reminds me ofAmma.”
“And you remind me of her,” he said.
“What do you remember about her?” Mr. Hammond asked.
“Many things. Seeing your daughter—her bright eyes and inquisitive face—ah, how the memories return to me! Vani asked so many questions. So interested in everything. She begged to know what I was learning in school. Read all the books she could find. Such a clever girl! But Vani did not like monsoons. She would come running and beg for stories until the worst of the wind and rain had passed....”
The conversation continued, with questions about the British school he attended, what his mother was like, his reaction to being presented with a new half sister. But they carefully skirted the topics of his departure from home and his military experiences to keep the conversation light.
