Page 111 of The Seaside Homecoming
“I like to be busy, to serve people.”
“I know you do. Though I wonder ... Are you lonely?”
“Lonely? I have four sisters and a house full of guests. I don’t have time to be lonely.”
“My dear Sarah, one can be lonely at a crowded party. I know who I am missing—my family, these many years gone. Who are you missing, I wonder?”
Sarah pressed dry lips together. “I don’t know what you mean. I missed my sister Claire terribly while she was gone, but now she’s here, so I don’t ... Of course, I miss my father, yet that grief has eased.”
Still the old woman watched her. “You were engaged once, I believe?”
“That was years ago. I am not troubled by memories of Peter anymore.”
“Someone else?”
“I ... Mrs. Denby, please do try a tart.”
The woman laughed. “And with my mouth full I cannot ask more impertinent questions! Yes, I know. I may be old, but I can still take a hint.”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to—”
“Never mind. You must forgive an old busybody. You know I care about you, right? I only want to see you happy.”
“I do. I am!”
“Well, I have said more than enough on that subject. Andnow I will happily eat one of these delicious-looking tarts, if you will join me.”
“Very well.”
They each lifted a miniature tart as though in a mock toast before taking bites.
“Mm. Delicious. When you marry, your husband will be a very blessed man.”
“IfI marry,” Sarah corrected.
Mrs. Denby popped the rest of the pastry into her mouth, then held up both hands as if conceding the point, although the sparkle in her eyes told a different story.
Georgie was still playing with the children when Sarah paused at the school gate. Clearly enjoying herself and in her element, Georgie waved her on.
Sarah waved back and began the walk to Sea View alone.
Simon Hornbeam and Alvinia Reed came strolling toward her, arm in arm. Like Viola, Miss Reed had stopped wearing a veil to cover her scars. She wore a bright smile instead. It pleased Sarah to see the pair looking so happy.
“Good day, Miss Reed. Mr. Hornbeam.”
Recognizing her voice, Mr. Hornbeam stopped to talk. “My dear Miss Sarah, I would like you to be the first to know. This lovely lady has accepted me. We are to be married.”
“Oh, how wonderful! I am delighted for you both.”
“We have yet to decide on a date and where we shall live afterward, but I shall keep you apprised.”
“I appreciate that, and congratulations.”
When the two departed, Sarah continued on. Instead of going straight home, she diverted to the churchyard. Passing through its gate, she recalled the time she had followed Callum Henshall there, wondering what he was up to, only to discover he was visiting his wife’s grave.
She did that now.
From the path, she walked over chestnut- and acorn-strewn grass until she reached the grave, its granite headstone topped by a Celtic cross. She solemnly approached, bowing her head and folding her hands, much as he had done that day. Again she read the inscription:
