Page 86 of The Seaside Homecoming
“She would not do that.” Emily frowned at Caroline, revelation sparking in her brown eyes. “Your sister wants him for herself—is that it? I remember Persephone all but begging Lord Bertram for a dance last summer. You are married now, and she is not getting any younger. Better a man without honor than no man at all?”
Mrs. Harding lifted her nose in the air, nostrils pinched tight. “He may not be perfect, but who is? Either way, Persephone has set her cap at him. She feels she will never be happy until she is his wife. As her sister, I cannot bear to see her miserable. I still believe she probably will be after she marries him, or at least after the honeymoon period has ended. But no more miserable than she is now. I love my sister and would do anything for her.”
Emily stepped closer, standing almost nose to nose with the woman. “I love my sisters too. Every last one of them. And you had better—”
Sarah grabbed Emily’s arm to interrupt before the conversation devolved into threats. She asked, “Have you some reason to think Lord Bertram means to come here? Does he even know Claire is in Sidmouth?”
“I certainly would not tell him. Nor would Persephone. I cannot, however, speak for our brother.”
After a few days, Claire had managed to cut, pin, and sew a simple frock for Mira—bodice and skirt—although she was still struggling with the sleeves. Realizing she had enough of the same fabric remaining, she also started a miniature, matching frock for Mira’s doll.
Someone knocked on the basement door. Claire rose and opened it to find Sarah there, basket in hand. “I was in the market and thought I’d stop by.”
Claire invited her inside. “I am always happy to see you. Though I still hope Mamma will come with you one of these days. Any progress there?”
“Sadly, she seems more resolved than before.” Sarah’s face clouded. She opened her mouth to say more but instead turned her attention to the sewing things spread on the table. “What are you making?”
Claire explained her project, and her troubles with the sleeves. Sarah offered to help, and the two sat down and sewed together, very much like old times.
Later, after everything was finished and Sarah had gone, Claire wrapped the two frocks in tissue and wrapped a second parcel as well, carrying both up to the nursery.
When she presented the first to Mira, the little girl squealed in delight and immediately began to change Dolly’s dress.
Sonali was less pleased. She begrudgingly admitted, “I have learned to embroider but am not skilled in dressmaking.”
“Nor am I. But my sister helped me. Together, we worked it out.”
Sonali nodded. “As I said before, you are braver than I.”
Claire shook her head and said earnestly, “You are the courageous one. You left your home, your country, to travel halfway around the world to a new land, a new culture.Youare far braver than I am.”
Sonali searched her face, measuring her sincerity. “You think so?”
“I do.”
Claire handed over the second parcel, which contained Vanita’s yellow sari and skirt, as well as the length of fine silk. “And here are a few things from Vanita’s trunk I thought you might like to have.”
Sonali pulled back the tissue and fingered the fine fabric. “I remember these,” she said, almost reverently.
Claire stepped to the door and turned back. “And if you’dlike help making something with that, let me know. I’m sure we could manage it together.”
That night, Claire helped Mary clean up after dinner as usual and then played a game of spillikins with Mira. Mr. Hammond excused himself but paused at Claire’s elbow and asked to have a quick word with her before she retired. She hoped he did not disapprove of her making a dress for his daughter and her doll when she might have been doing something more productive around the house.
When it was Mira’s bedtime, Sonali gently but firmly took her upstairs, despite the girl’s pleas for one more game. After they had gone, Claire put away the sticks and removed a few lingering teacups and dessert plates, planning to take the remaining cake downstairs.
The new-wed couple came into the house looking windblown and a little sunburned, but otherwise happy.
Claire greeted them. “Did you have a good day?”
“We did. Fell asleep on our beach rug or we’d have been back sooner.”
She noticed the young husband’s gaze linger on the cake before shifting away.
Knowing they were getting by on limited funds, Claire smiled and said, “You are just in time. I hope you will help us finish this date-and-walnut cake. And there’s tea as well. No charge. You’ll be doing me a favor—one less thing to put away.”
“If you’re certain. I confess I am rather hungry.”
“Me too,” his wife said. “Must be the sea air.”
