Page 89 of The Seaside Homecoming
“Not necessarily. He spent most of his career as a perpetual curate until he finally secured a modest living of his own. He did not want me to struggle financially as he did. Despite his rather humble profession, he had high enough connections to see me educated and later appointed to the Foreign Office at a relatively young age, thanks to the patronage of an acquaintance.
“I’m sure it was difficult for him and Mamma when I moved far away. Nevertheless they were thoroughly supportive. We corresponded, although they wrote far more often than I did. I justified that I was busy with important work and they would understand. I regret that now.”
“Are your parents yet living?”
“Unfortunately, no. They’ve been gone several years. I did manage to visit them shortly before my father died. Or more accurately, my patron insisted I visit them between appointments when word of my father’s declining health reached him. I am glad I heeded him. My parents were delighted to see me. So proud—making sure every delivery boy and visiting apothecary knew I was their son, and insisting our ancient cook prepare all my favorite dishes. Made me utterly ashamed of my neglect. I told them stories of my travels, of the dignitaries I had met. Brought them coins and trinkets from foreign lands. You would have thought I’d brought them priceless treasure.”
“You did. You brought them their son.”
He grimaced. Not the reaction she’d anticipated.
“My father was quite frail by then, though he did rally a bit while I was there. I asked if there was anything I could do for them. Mamma patted my cheek and assured me all was well.
“Thankfully our cook, Mrs. Petrova, had no such qualms and told me about the unpaid bills to physician, greengrocer, coal merchant, and more. I settled the accounts and gave Mrs. Petrova a letter of permission to draw from my bank as needed. Gave the same instructions to the banker.”
“That was considerate of you.”
He shrugged. “Too little, too late, in my view. I would have stayed longer, but I received word that my superior had abruptly resigned due to health problems of his own. I was asked to step inad interimuntil his replacement could be appointed. I hoped the permanent appointment would come to me, but it did not.
“My father died not long after I left. My mother soon followed. Mrs. Petrova wrote to me with the news. She said maybe it was a blessing my mother did not linger long after her husband of more than forty years. I don’t know. I have heard that often happens, that one spouse seems to lose their will to live after the death of their husband or wife.”
“Yes, although not in my mother’s case,” Claire said. “She used to be an invalid. You’d never know it now.” She raised a hand. “Don’t mistake me—I’m not saying Papa’s death improved her health. She credits the sea air, long walks, and sea-bathing.”
He nodded. “I think I agree with her. Speaking of long walks, I plan to hike up Salcombe Hill tomorrow morning. Care to join me?”
She hesitated. “I would like to, but someone must stay and oversee things here.”
“Come, Miss Summers. We managed without you before you arrived. Not well, but we managed. The place won’t fall to ruin in a few hours. Besides, Mr. Filonov plans to go along, so no need to worry about propriety.”
“Very well, then. I would enjoy that.” She turned to go, then remembered something. “By the way, you asked to see me before I retired?”
He nodded. “I simply wanted to thank you for taking the time to make Mira a dress, and one for her beloved Dolly as well. I did not want to praise you too highly with Sonali there, yet I did want to thank you.”
Her heart warmed. “It was my pleasure.”
21
The idea of walking for leisure ... resonated with artists in the 19th Century. Painters, poets and writers turned to woods and mountains to connect with their surroundings.
—Jolan Wuyts,Europeana
Claire rose at dawn the next morning to get an early start on her tasks. She sorted a load of clean linens from the laundress, exchanged the towels in the water closet and bath-room, and helped the kitchen maid lay breakfast for guests and family. Mary was not feeling well and joined them rather late, apologizing profusely.
After that, Claire reviewed the registration book. No new guests were expected that day, and hopefully none of their present guests would need anything while they were gone.
At breakfast, Mr. Hammond made a request of Sonali. “Miss Summers and I will both be out for an hour or two this morning. Would you mind listening for callers?”
Claire tensed, awaiting a sharp retort. But Sonali remained silent as her dark gaze slid from him to Claire and back again.
He added, “Perhaps Mira might draw here at the table for a time so you would be closer to the door?”
“Oh yes!” Mira clapped. “I want to try the new colors.”
Claire expected Sonali to protest that it was not her responsibility.
Instead the woman said evenly, “Very well.”
“Thank you. We’re not expecting any guests but it’s possible someone may walk in looking for a room. I’ve left the key to number six on the desk, just in case.”
