Page 97 of The Seaside Homecoming
“Don’t know. Looks like ye, though.”
Claire looked Mary over. “Are you feeling better?”
The maid’s face reddened. “Aye, miss, thank ye. And thank ye for doin’ my mornin’ chores.”
“That’s all right.” She patted the girl’s arm and headed toward the stairs.
Claire went down and found Emily waiting for her in the morning room, garments over her arm and a small bag in hand.
“You will probably think me a terrible sponger, but I helped myself to two of your dresses when Papa ordered your things boxed up and donated.” She winced. “Perhaps I should not have told you that part. It’s no doubt painful to hear. I’m sorry he was so cruel about everything.”
“I gave him cause, after all.”
“Pish. In any case, I think they still look rather well. I hope you don’t think them terribly out of fashion.”
“And I hope they still fit.”
“Of course they will. You are more slender than ever. I suppose it’s all the work you do here.”
And all the bland food at Aunt Mercer’s, Claire thought but didn’t say it.
Emily added, “Sarah and I both saved a few of your belongings without Papa knowing. I don’t know if Viola or Georgie did.”
Claire nodded. “Sarah brought over a sketchbook, earrings,and a few things I embroidered. I doubt she took any of my gowns. She was still in mourning then, besides being taller.”
Emily squinted in memory. “I believe she kept something else as well, though I don’t recall what at the moment. Never mind. Shall we see how these fit?” She lifted the dresses, followed by the bag. “I brought a set of underthings, as well as satin shoes, in case you could use them.”
“I could, yes.” Claire led the way down to her room.
“And after you choose which one to wear tonight, perhaps I might help with your hair,” Emily offered, laying the clothes on her bed.
Claire took her hand. “Thank you, my dear. I am sorry I did not turn out to be the model older sister you once thought me.”
Emily squeezed her hand in reply. “Nonsense. You were and are the best eldest sister a girl could want.”
That evening Claire went upstairs wearing one of the dinner dresses Emily had brought to her, which still fit and, according to Emily, suited her well. The gown was a pale celestial blue with a fluted border of white crepe.
Mr. Hammond came down the stairs, striking in evening attire. His skillfully tailored dark coat framed broad shoulders, while a sleek brocade waistcoat drew attention to his trim abdomen. His side-whiskers had been neatly trimmed, and his hair appeared freshly cut for the occasion.
He hesitated upon seeing her, his gaze sweeping over her in frank appraisal, and if the warm admiration in his eyes could be believed, Emily was not the only one who thought the gown suited her.
“New dress?”
“Old dress, but I have not worn it in some time. Emily brought it over for tonight.”
“It looks well on you.”
“Thank you.”
She retrieved her cloak from the hall closet and pulled on her gloves.
Miss Patel came down the stairs with her young charge. She had dressed Mira in a gown of pretty rose satin, the hair ribbon from Viola, and the new shoes. Sonali herself wore a traditional sari embellished with golden threads and floral embroidery.
Mr. Hammond bowed. “Good evening. How lovely you three look. I am the luckiest man in Devonshire.”
“You look handsome too, Papa!” Mira exclaimed.
Indeed he did.
