Page 91 of The Seaside Homecoming
She looked from it to him. “Are you telling me that’s why you carry a stick and swing it about?”
He nodded. “To clear the path. That, and in the event we should meet with some wild animal unhappy to be disturbed. Unlikely, yet I prefer to be prepared.”
She was about to accept the stick and carry on, but recalling his comment about enjoying the view from behind, she gestured him ahead, saying, “In that case, after you.”
He hesitated. “About that. I apologize for what I said earlier. When you shrieked, I feared it was in anger! I suppose I was accustomed to teasing Vanita like that, but I do not have the right to treat you with the same familiarity. I hope you will forgive me.”
Sincerity now shone in his green eyes, capturing her gaze like another sticky web. She had a difficult time looking away.“You are forgiven. And I suppose I share the blame as I teased you first.”
“True, although only to criticize my age and infirmity.” He winked and continued on in an exaggerated hobble before lengthening his stride once more.
There was certainly nothing infirm about the man. In fact, he appeared to be in excellent physical condition.
When they reached the summit of Salcombe Hill, Claire paused to catch her breath. The view stretched before them to lofty Peak Hill and beyond, much as she remembered and just as Mr. Filonov had depicted it in his painting. Sidmouth lay below them, a hodgepodge of roof lines, chimney smoke, and there, the church tower. The esplanade ran parallel to the town beach with its rocky outcroppings, all the way to grassy Fort Field. On the far side of the field, she could just make out Sea View. It seemed very far away. Almost unreachable. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought.
She became aware of Mr. Hammond beside her, his expression concerned. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head. “The wind makes my eyes water.”
Inhaling deeply of the brisk breeze, Claire pushed aside her sadness and admired the scenery. “It is beautiful up here.”
Feeling his gaze on her once more, she turned and found him watching her.
“I completely agree.”
That night, tired from rising at dawn and the strenuous walk, Claire went to bed early and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
At some point, her door creaked open.
“Miss Summers?”
Claire struggled to waken. “Y-yes?”
“Is Mira with you?”
“What?” Startled, Claire looked at her caller with wide eyes and recognized Sonali, holding a candle lamp.
“Is she not in her bed?” Claire asked.
“No. I thought she might have come down here again.”
Claire rose on her elbows, then sat up in the dark, reaching her hands to search beneath the bedclothes.
“She is not here.”
“Oh no.”
“What time is it?” Claire asked as she climbed from bed, her thoughts becoming clearer.
“About half past four.”
She slipped her feet into shoes and reached for her pelisse instead of a dressing gown, pulling it on over her nightdress.
“Perhaps she has gone to her father. Have you looked in his bedchamber?”
“Not yet. He made it clear he does not wish me to trespass there.”
“We shall go together.”
