Page 137 of The Seaside Homecoming
“I am terribly sorry,” she said. “I should not have come to Broadbridge’s. I hoped to be reconciled with my sisters in time. Maybe even my mother. I never meant to hurt you or embroil you in scandal. Please believe me.”
“You must have known it would affect me. Affect us all. Poor Mira has become very fond of you.”
“And I her.”
He groaned. “What a dreadful state of affairs.”
“If you want me to leave, to break all ties with me, I will understand.”
He seemed to consider her words, then said, “Perhaps I should release you. For both our sakes.” He looked at her, expression veiled. Unreadable. “What do you want?”
You, she thought, but did not say it. She raised a weak hand and chuckled bleakly. “I want the impossible, I suppose. I want to be forgiven, to no longer be a source of shame to my family. For you to not regret taking me in.” Silently she added,I want to be loved. Forever. By you.
“Will you marry him?” he asked, looking over the parapet to the lights of Sidmouth below.
“I don’t know.”
“If you do, that renders the question of whether I want you to stay a moot point.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I shall keep my own counsel on that for now. Nor shall I try to sway you. I am not a man who makes impulsive decisions.”
“I understand. Let me know what you decide.”
He nodded. “I trust you will do the same.”
Claire offered to oil Mira’s hair again in Sonali’s stead. She longed for the sweet comfort of the maternal task and imagined it might be her last chance to perform it.
Sonali and Mira were both quick to accept her offer, although Sonali’s gaze rested on Claire in some concern before she departed to her own room.
As before, Mira sat on the floor, resting her back against Claire’s shins, while Claire rubbed oil into her scalp and hair. The process seemed to soothe them both. Would Claire everbe a mother and minister to her own child in similar ways: bathing, brushing, embracing? Or was this as close as she would ever come?
The thought of motherhood brought dear Mamma to mind. Claire missed her mother’s affectionate touch. Would she ever feel it again? Or enjoy the sweet mother-daughter bond they had once shared?
Tears filled her eyes at the thought.
She was startled from her reverie by a soft knock and the appearance of two women at the nursery door. Mary and...
“Mamma...?” Claire breathed.
“Here she is, madam,” Mary said.
“Thank you.”
Mary bobbed a curtsy and disappeared.
Her mother looked back at her. “May I come in?”
“Of course. I was just thinking about you.”
“You’re crying. Did I cause that?”
“Only indirectly.” Claire swiped at her eyes with the back of an oiled hand. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve been doing a lot of that myself lately.”
Mira tilted her head to look up at the newcomer. “Who is she?”
