“Difficult to say after such a brief meeting. She was not terribly friendly, but we were uninvited guests as well as strangers to her. She reminded me of Effie in looks. Evidently, the two are quite close. I am glad Effie has an older woman in her life to help guide her.”
“Are you?” Emily did not look convinced. “I can think of someone better.”
Sarah chose to ignore the suggestion and changed the subject. “And how goes the writing? Any reply from the publisher about your Gothic novel? Or Mr. Gwilt’s?”
“Not yet. I may send it to another publisher Mr. Wallis knows....”
As Emily chatted on, Sarah realized she had succeeded in diverting the conversation away from Mr. Henshall’s letter, yet her thoughts remained there.
FOUR
The giver of every good and perfect gift has called upon us to mimic God’s giving, by grace, through faith, and this is not of ourselves.
—Attributed to St. Nicholas of Myra
In preparation for St. Nicholas Day, Georgiana and her sisters banded together to buy or make small gifts for the children at the Sidmouth charity school: knitted scarves, mittens, needle cases, pincushions, carved rulers, bound paper notebooks with pretty covers, and more. Mr. Gwilt had even fashioned a decent cricket bat from wood he’d found in the old work shed behind the house.
Colin Hutton came to call while they were organizing the gifts. Finding them clustered around the mounded dining room table, counting and sorting, he said, “My goodness. How industrious you all are. I grow exhausted simply watching you. What’s all this for?”
Georgiana replied, “St. Nicholas Day gifts for the children at the charity school.” She looked up at him and challenged, “Perhaps you might contribute something as well?”
His brows lifted. “Me? I don’t know what I could give. Though I do have two new Duke six-seam cricket balls, if one of them would be of any interest.”
Georgie’s mouth fell open. “Of course it would! I would like one myself.”
“Then you may have it.”
Georgie hesitated, then with a deep exhale resolved, “No. It’s Christmastime, and I have so much more than they do. And sadly, most of what my sisters and I have gathered will be more appreciated by girls. Better to give one of your cricket balls to the boys.”
“You impress me, Georgiana Summers.”
“I should hope so, Colin Hutton.”
He grinned, then asked, “What else might the boys like?”
“Goodness, most have so little. Anything, really. Gloves, toys, games...”
“I am at your service, miss.” He gave her a bow and another lopsided grin. “Give me one hour.”
He returned nearly two hours later, arms laden with the promised cricket ball, games of spillikins, dominoes, and cards, a new leather foot-ball, and a pair of gloves.
“Any of these of use, do you think?”
“Good heavens, yes.”
“The gloves are an older pair of mine. If you think they’re too shabby, just tell me and I will take them back.”
“Not at all. Still lots of wear left.”
“I suppose the lads are too young for cravats or cologne?” Innocence rounded his fair eyes, but Georgie knew he was jesting.
“I think so, yes.”
“Ah well.”
“Your offering is most generous as it is. Thank you.”
“You are very welcome, Miss Georgiana. You seem to bring out a generous side of my character I did not know existed.”
