Page 45 of The Seaside Homecoming
“Yes, please!”
In the shop, Mira chose a small bag of lemon drops. Thankfully the shop clerk had no qualms about serving them. Claire, having consulted the meager coins in her reticule, decided against something for herself after all. Mira offered one of hers, and Claire popped the tangy morsel into her mouth. “Thank you, my dear. Generous of you to share.”
Exiting the confectioner’s, Mira tripped, and before Claire could catch her, the girl lost hold of her bag and several lemon drops went rolling onto the walkway.
In a flash, a man came to their aid. He lowered himself to his haunches and picked up the bag. “What a pity. Ah, but good news. Still two left.” He handed it to Mira.
Claire recognized him then—the man from the stagecoach. In his mid to late thirties, the striking man had coffee-brown skin, black hair, and very dark eyes.
As he looked at the child, his grin faded into a quizzical look, and he tipped back his beaver hat to better study her face. “I say. I have not seen you before. And I would have noticed.” He smiled at the girl, his teeth startlingly white against his deep brown skin. “Would it be terribly presumptuous to ask your name?”
Suddenly shy, the girl clutched Claire’s hand and crowded close to her side, even as her eyes studied the stranger with interest.
“Mira,” she said softly.
“And I am Armaan. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Mira.You remind me of someone I once knew. Someone I miss very much indeed.”
He rose, and Claire noticed again how tall and handsome he was. His gaze slid past Claire, then returned for a longer look. “Ah. This lady I have seen before. We traveled on the same coach.”
“That’s right. A pleasure to see you again.”
“Likewise. Are you enjoying Sidmouth?”
“For the most part, yes. And you?”
“Much the same. I enjoyed visiting London, but Sidmouth is home ... at least for now.”
Behind them, an aproned shopkeeper cleared his throat, and Armaan stepped aside.
“Well. I shall bid you both good day.”
He tugged his hat brim and walked on, and Claire was not quite sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he had not asked her name as well.
On their return to Broadbridge’s, Claire almost collided with a woman in the marketplace. “Pardon me,” she said. Then, seeing who it was, she drew back in surprise.
“M-Mamma,” Claire faltered, a catch in her voice.
Mamma appeared to be startled as well. “I ... did not expect to see you. I thought you would be busy at Broadbridge’s.”
“Just out on an errand.” She glanced down at the little girl holding her hand. “This is Mira, Mr. Hammond’s daughter.”
“Mr. Hammond is your...?”
“Business partner. He bought the boarding house from Fran and needed help managing the place.”
“I see.”
Unsure what to say, Claire stammered, “Are you ... in good health? You look remarkably well, I must say.”
“I have improved, thankfully. The sea air, long walks, and sea-bathing have done me good.”
“I am glad.”
An awkward silence followed. Mamma fidgeted with her reticule, then said, “I am ... relieved you are also well. However, your father would not be pleased you are here.”
At the words, Claire’s chin began to tremble. “I remained in Scotland as long as Aunt Mercer lived, but then I had to leave. I suppose I could have gone elsewhere, but I missed you all terribly. I came here hoping to restore our relationship.”
Mamma huffed and pushed a loose hair from her face. “I cannot go against his wishes.” Anger sparked in her eyes. “I may have failed to protect you, but I have other daughters to think of now. I’m sorry. Excuse me.”
