“As I have said before, a relationship with someone who lives so far from Sea View, and Mamma, and the rest of you, would be impractical. Today’s disappointing visit will make it easier to come to terms with that reality.”
They climbed inside the waiting landau. Once they were all seated, Sarah glanced back at the charming stone house with its neglected garden and bid Whinstone Hall and Mr. Henshall farewell. As the vehicle lurched into motion and drove away, Sarah turned her eyes forward. She drew a long breath, squared her shoulders in resolve, and faced her companions.
“So there is no reason to factor my future into your decision about the Edinburgh house. You must choose what is best for the two of you alone.”
“Well ... there is no need to decide now. We have several factors to consider, including what is best for Mira.”
“Of course. Family comes first.”
They returned to the terraced house and packed up their things. Sarah donned a practical carriage dress and her most unaffecteddemeanor. She was not crushed. She was fine. Self-sufficient and capable. She glanced at the longcase clock and felt a kinship with it: tall, steady, and dependable.
She helped Claire pack, and then assisted Campbell and the housemaids in covering the upholstered furniture and Turkish carpets to help protect them from sunlight until Claire made her decision.
All the while, she was aware of Claire watching her, a worried expression pinching her pretty face, but her sister wisely chose not to say anything.
Sarah sent her what she hoped was a reassuring smile and kept busy.
Many times throughout the lengthy return trip, Sarah repeated to herself that this outcome was for the best. A closed door. A definite sign. Mr. Henshall’s silence coupled with hundreds of miles between his home and Sea View were impediments that seemed indisputable now. And even though the “lady of the house” had only been his sister-in-law, she had hinted that he was pursuing a woman who lived close by. Yes, that would be better for Effie. Better for them all. Sarah had been right to conclude that any future between them was impossible. Apparently, he had come to that conclusion as well. She resolved to remain single and content. Life would be less complicated that way.
Sarah shifted toward the side window and made a concerted effort to turn her thoughts away from Mr. Henshall and toward the Christmas season ahead. The effort felt like trying to turn a huge ship against the tide. But with determination and self-discipline, she managed to take her thoughts captive.
She recalled her conversation with a melancholy Georgiana before they’d set out on this trip. Recent Christmases had been dismal affairs, first with mourning and the move to Sidmouth after Papa’s death, and then last year, with royalty come to stay next door, they’d been called on to host three of the Duke of Kent’s staff. Amid all the busyness as well as straitened finances, their own celebrations had been minimal at best.
Georgie had been quite disappointed, and Sarah had promised her the next year—this year—would be better, and they would enjoy a far more festive Christmastide.
And as soon as she returned to Sea View, Sarah meant to make good on that promise.
THREE
Puddings gained status during the early eighteenth century during the reign of George I, the “Pudding King.”
—Jeri Quinzio,Pudding: A Global History
Miss Georgiana Summers stood in the center of Fort Field, kite string in hand. Nearby, young Mira Hammond, her niece through marriage, held another such string. Georgiana had helped the girl send the kite into the air and then ran to launch a kite of her own. She had not flown a kite since early summer, but the autumn day had dawned warm and sunny with a steady wind—not too light, not too gusty—perfect for kite flying.
In the weeks since Claire and Mira’s father had left on their wedding trip, Georgiana had been collecting Mira from Broadbridge’s a few times a week, a welcome respite for her uncle and his new wife, who were busy overseeing the boarding house as well as caring for Mira. And a welcome change for Mira, who spent far too much time indoors, in Georgiana’s opinion.
Armaan and Sonali knew and trusted her, and Mira liked her. Georgiana liked the girl too and was enjoying the new experience of acting the part of doting older sister, instead of the youngest, as she was in her immediate family.
Together she and Mira had gone for walks along the beach, collected seashells, and played games together. They also playedfetch with Chips, the local stray that followed Georgiana wherever she went. The dog was slowly coming to trust Mira as well, although the girl’s happy shrieks during play still frightened him. Currently Chips sat hunched several yards away, sniffing a discarded wad of butcher’s paper in hopes of a treat.
Mira was too young to join the boisterous outdoor games at the charity school, but Georgiana had begun to teach her a few games so she might one day join her there. In fact, a cricket bat and ball lay on the grass nearby, awaiting their turn.
Georgiana still went and played with the students as often as she could, although she had less free time with Sarah gone. During her absence, they all shared Sarah’s usual duties. Thankfully, Mamma had recovered her strength and was able to act the part of gracious hostess to their guests. Emily helped in the office with guest correspondence and room assignments. Bibi Cordey, the fisherman’s daughter who came over to clean and make beds, added a few more hours to her weekly schedule, and Georgiana assisted her and performed other tasks as well, even serving at table when needed—although she was not very good at it. Thankfully, between their maid, Jessie, and efficient Mr. Gwilt, her help was not often needed in the dining room.
Georgie truly did not mind helping but chafed at being confined indoors during glorious autumn afternoons. She’d much rather traipse around the countryside greeting other walkers or talk with their fishermen neighbors, admiring their catches and occasionally going out in their boats with them. Or even fly a kite, as she was now.
Suddenly the wind lulled. Georgiana managed to adjust the string tension and keep her kite aloft, but Mira’s faltered and crashed to the ground.
“Oh no!” the girl exclaimed.
“That’s all right,” Georgie assured her. “You kept it up a good long while.”
A young man came strolling across the field, taking the back way from the eastern town to the west. It was Colin Hutton, carrying a shiny leather valise. He was fashionably dressed in a long greatcoat, brushed beaver hat, and polished black-and-red shoes.He walked with the confident swagger of a strutting peacock, but Georgiana could not deny the man drew the eye.
Her sister Viola was married to his brother, Jack. Major Hutton’s younger brother might be a dandy, but he was sweet and funny and wouldn’t hurt a fly.
“Colin!” she called and raised her hand. Mira joined her in waving.
