Chapter 33

33

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach.

—Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “How Do I Love Thee?”

Leaving Broadbridge’s, Claire walked up the street feeling free, whole, and full of life and hope.

She crossed the River Sid at the bridge and began the steep walk up Salcombe Hill. She was not certain if William had come this way or gone west to climb Peak Hill, but she could not sit still awaiting his return.

When she reached the first viewpoint, she paused, breathing hard and gazing into the distance, toward the deep blue horizon and the grey waves below.

She heard something and turned. There came William, descending from the summit at a brisk pace, leg muscles pressing against close-fitting breeches, arms pumping, and handsome features tense with concern or perhaps even anger. When he saw her, no welcoming smile softened his face.

“I hoped I might find you here,” she said.

His long strides narrowed the divide between them, but a few yards from her, he stopped.

“I was on my way back,” he said. “To tell you not to marry the man. I was a fool to tarry. The past does not matter. I may not have been a perfect husband to Vanita, but I will be a far better husband to you than that man could ever be. Tell me I am not too late. Have you already given Bertram an answer?”

“I have.”

His body stilled, only his Adam’s apple rose and fell.

“I said no,” she hurried to clarify. “I don’t love him, and marrying him would not redeem our past mistakes. He was preparing to depart as I left the house.”

William released a long breath and walked closer. “What a blind fool he was to have a gem like you in his grasp and trample it beneath his feet.”

He took her hand, and only then did she notice his other hand was empty. “Where is your stick?”

“Left it. Knew I might be tempted to thrash Bertram with it. In fact, if I hurry, I might yet do so.”

Claire shook her head. “He is not worth the effort. Let him go. If you and Mamma can forgive me, then maybe I can believe God has forgiven me. Perhaps even forgive myself.”

“My dear Claire, you are already forgiven. Don’t you know I am in love with you?”

“Even now you’ve learned who I really am?”

He took her other hand as well. “Do you mean now that I know you are a kind, gentle, warmhearted woman who loves my daughter and treats me with far more consideration than I deserve?”

“William...”

Voice rumbling low, he said, “How you undo me when you call me by my given name....”

“I have been afraid to hope. I was not sure you could ever care for another woman as you did Vanita.”

“If you had asked me a few months ago, I might have agreed. I never thought I would love anyone, body and soul, as I do you. But I do. I love you, my dear, beautiful Claire.”

“And I love you.”

He loosed one hand to trace a finger along her cheek. “How I long to kiss you....”

“Then please do.”

He framed her face with his hand and lowered his head, his face nearing hers. Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips touched hers in a warm, sweet kiss.

Then he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again more firmly.

Oh, heavenly ... She melted against him.

She had been kissed before. Lord Bertram’s drunken kisses. This was something else entirely. Something wonderful.

William released her and sank to his knees before her, right there on the damp turf of Salcombe Hill.

He pressed his hands to her waist and looked up at her. “Will you marry me, Claire Summers? Be my better half forever? For I shall be satisfied with nothing less than endless nights and months and years with you.”

Her spirits soared. “Are you in earnest?”

“I would not stain the knees of my best trousers for just anyone.” His lips tipped into a teasing smile.

Happiness bubbled through her. “Then, yes, I will marry you, William. With all my heart!”

She bent down and kissed that beloved, crooked smile right off his face.

As they gathered for luncheon that day, William told Mira the news.

“Well, my dear pumpkin seed. I have asked Miss Claire to marry me, and she has agreed. What do you say to that?”

The girl gasped. “Will she be my new mamma?”

“Would you like that?” he asked.

Claire hurried to say, “Your second mamma.” She knelt and touched a gentle finger to the girl’s chest. “You will always have your first mamma—your amma —in your heart and in your memories.”

“And my painting.”

“That’s right.”

Mira threw her arms around Claire’s neck. Near her ear she whispered, “I prayed it would be you. I like Sonali, but I love you.”

“And I love you too.” Claire wrapped her arms around the little girl and held her close. Tears in her eyes, she looked up at William and saw his eyes were wet too.

A moment later the spell was broken when Mira pulled away and declared, “That means you can always oil my hair!”

William reached down and helped Claire to her feet.

“Now, kaddu , my marrying Miss Summers does not make her your personal attendant. You will have to share her attentions, affections, and time with me.”

“Silly Papa. No one oils your hair.”

“No, but perhaps I shall perform that service for my new wife, or demonstrate my affection in other ways....”

Claire’s neck heated at the thought.

He placed a gentle hand on the little girl’s head. “So you won’t have your new mamma all to yourself. Understand?”

Claire laughed. “Gracious. There’s nothing to worry about in that regard. I have more than enough time and affection for you both.”

William pressed Claire’s hand and grinned at his daughter. “And so do I.”

Sonali came in and they shared the news all over again.

She offered them sincere congratulations, saying, “I am most happy for you both.” With a smile she added, “Although not in the least surprised.”

They all gathered in Sea View’s parlour: Mamma, Sarah, Emily, Viola, Georgiana, and Claire. Mr. Gwilt served them tea, wearing a toothy grin all the while. Sarah grinned as well as she looked around at these beloved women.

Her sister had been returned to them, completing their circle. Mamma had even hung Claire’s sampler on the wall of her room along with Sarah’s and Viola’s.

For a moment Sarah closed her eyes in gratitude. Thank you, God.

As the women sipped tea, they shared memories of the past, teased one another fondly, laughed at each other’s jokes, and made plans for the future. For a picnic later that summer. A special dinner for Georgie’s seventeenth birthday. And to celebrate Christmas together.

Emily turned to Claire and said, “And in the meantime, you will start sitting with us in church, I hope?”

Claire smiled. “I would like that very much.”

Mamma rose. “Excuse me.”

A few moments later, she returned with the plate Sarah had broken last year. The porcelain plate rimmed in gold had been painted with a vivid image of three girls in Chinese robes, clustered close as a fourth read to them. Papa had given it to their mother long ago.

Claire stared at it, perplexed. “I remember this plate. What happened to it?”

“I dropped it,” Sarah admitted. She did not mention she’d dropped it when her twin sisters burst into the room, arguing over an old bonnet of Claire’s. Some things were best forgotten. “I doubted the shattered pieces could ever be put back together, but Mamma had it repaired by a skilled craftsman.”

The broken pieces had been fused with thin lines of gold. It was forever altered, yet back in one piece.

“I have been thinking about this plate,” Mamma said, running a gentle finger over the cracks. “Once broken, now restored, and still beautiful. Like us.”

Sarah took one of Mamma’s hands and one of Claire’s. Around the circle, the others grasped hands as well. Not a dry eye remained.

Over a lump in her throat, Sarah said, “Beautiful indeed.”

Once the engagement was announced, Mamma decided Claire should move into Sea View until after the wedding. For appearance’s sake, for propriety, and to help the new lovers avoid temptation.

Considering the passionate kisses she and William had already shared, Claire could not fault her mother’s logic.

“You can still go there during the day to help around the place and then come here at night. All right?”

“Very well, Mamma,” Claire agreed. It was time to honor her mother after disappointing her before.

William agreed too, although with less enthusiasm. “If I were your parent, I would not trust me either, but I shall miss you.”

She gave a little laugh and touched his cheek. “I shall be here every day. Well, almost every day. Mamma wants to take me shopping for wedding clothes.”

“As she should. And though you will miss me terribly...”

“I shall.”

“...I know you will enjoy living with your family again after all this time. It shall be a balm to your bruised heart.”

“You are right.” She reached up and kissed him. He wrapped both arms around her and kissed her back, a kiss that quickly deepened.

He lifted his head and gently put her away from him. “And this is why your mother is right and you should spend your nights at Sea View. Not that having you here during the days won’t be temptation enough.” With one of his wry grins, he lifted her hand and kissed it.

Before leaving Broadbridge’s, Claire talked to Mary, reassuring her that despite moving to Sea View, Claire was not abandoning her and would still see her often.

That evening, when Claire arrived at Sea View with her case and valise, Mr. Gwilt took them from her and hung up her cloak.

Mamma welcomed her with a warm embrace. Sarah, Emily, and Georgiana then embraced her in turns, while her brother-in-law James made do with a bow and friendly word of greeting.

Mamma said, “Now that the Cravens have gone, we have several vacant rooms. You may have your pick.”

“Actually, what I’d like best is to share with Sarah, like we used to do as girls. If Sarah would not mind?”

Sarah smiled softly. “I would like nothing better.”

Later that night, they cleaned their teeth, changed into nightdresses, and climbed into bed.

“Like old times,” Claire said. “Oh, this brings back memories. All those heart-to-heart talks before sleep. Sometimes drifting off midsentence!”

Sarah nodded and rolled to her side, head propped on her hand. “When we opened the guest house, we all had to double up. Except for Georgie, who chose a room in the attic. I shared with Emily until she married. Sometimes I would look over in the half-light of dawn and think she was you. Your profiles are rather alike. How I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but I’m thankful for this time together before I marry.”

“I am too.”