Page 1 of A Sea View Christmas (On Devonshire Shores)
ONE
Often, the bride’s sister or closest female friend accompanied the couple [on their wedding trip].
—Maria Grace, Courtship and Marriage in Jane Austen’s World
Miss Sarah Summers sat on her neatly made bed, a treasure in each hand. In her left she held a letter from the man she’d been betrothed to before his death at sea more than three years before.
In her right palm lay a dried thistle—stalk, spiny bulb, and purple flower crown—the symbol of Scotland. It had been given to her by a Scotsman who, despite her efforts to forget him, still occupied a large part of her thoughts ... and, if she were honest with herself, her heart.
Callum Henshall and his stepdaughter had been their very first guests at Sea View the previous year, and all the Summerses had liked them. Mr. Henshall had expressed interest in Sarah during his stay, but Sarah had discouraged him. Now she wondered if she had done the right thing.
She carefully tucked both the letter and the thistle into the chest at the foot of her bed. For the impending trip, she was taking only a small leather trunk, one bandbox, and her reticule.
Was she really about to leave Sidmouth for an extended absence?
Her pulse beat hard at the thought. Since moving to Sea View two years before, Sarah had never left for more than a few hours at a time.
What was she doing? How could she just leave the guest house and Mamma?
Leave their guests, their staff, and her responsibilities?
Might there still be time to change her mind about traveling with Claire and her husband?
Sadly, no. Their plans were set.
A knock sounded on the bedchamber door and her youngest sister, Georgiana, entered. At seventeen, Georgie was the picture of blossoming womanhood, although Sarah still saw glimpses of the rough-and-tumble tomboy she had been.
“All packed?” Georgie asked.
“Nearly.”
“I wish I were going with you.”
“I thought you loved it here?”
“I do. Yet I long to see more of the world. I’ve only ever been to Sidmouth and May Hill.”
“You’re young. You shall have other opportunities. For now, I need you to help with things here while I’m gone.”
“I know.” Georgie sighed.
Sarah regarded her usually cheerful sister with concern. “Are you unwell, my dear? You seem ... well, sad.”
“No, not sad. Restless, more like. But I am glad you are going to Scotland. It’s time you had an adventure. Besides, Mr. Henshall’s not a bad fellow—you could do worse.”
“Why, thank you,” Sarah dryly replied. “Remember, we are primarily going to Scotland to look over the house Claire inherited. Seeing Mr. Henshall is only a secondary consideration.”
“Right.” Her sister snorted. “You will pass along my greetings to Effie, I trust?”
Sarah’s heart warmed at the thought of Mr. Henshall’s stepdaughter. “Certainly. If we manage to see them, that is.”
“Why should you not? Mr. Henshall will probably convince you to remain in Scotland, and then there go our plans for a jolly Christmas here.”
“That is unlikely to happen.”
Georgiana studied her. “Still no reply?”
Sarah shook her head. This wasn’t a topic she cared to revisit—best to change the subject.
“Now, don’t worry. I shan’t forget my promise.
I know the last few years have not been ideal, but we shall have a far more festive Christmastide this year.
You’ll see. William and Claire don’t want to leave Mira for too long.
We plan to return in time for Stir-Up Sunday. ”
“I’m counting on it.”
“By the way,” Sarah added, “Claire told me you have offered to spend time with Mira while she and William are away. That is kind of you.”
Georgie shrugged off the praise. “Armaan and Sonali will be busy with the boarding house, and a girl Mira’s age needs to play out-of-doors.”
“You certainly did. Still do.”
Her sister nodded. “I’ll also visit the Sidmouth School as usual to play with the pupils there. When I am not needed here, of course.”
“Excellent.” Sarah rose and embraced her. “And keeping busy like that, you’ll find the time will pass quickly.”
She said it as much to reassure herself as Georgiana.
The family gathered to bid them farewell.
Her sister Emily took Sarah’s arm and led her out of the house.
She leaned close and confided, “It’s your turn, Sarah.
I just know it. I hope Mr. Henshall kisses more than your hand this time!
” She grinned and squeezed her arm. “Oh, and if you should happen to meet Sir Walter Scott, don’t forget to tell him your sister is a great admirer of his work. ”
Their brother-in-law William stood at the open door of the yellow post chaise and handed Sarah inside to join their eldest sister, Claire.
Several others encircled the waiting vehicle: sister Viola and her husband, Jack Hutton.
Sonali and Armaan Sagar, little Mira in her uncle’s arms. Mamma waved her handkerchief, and Georgie held the town stray by the scruff to keep him from nipping at the horses.
And finally Mr. Gwilt, their diligent man-of-all-work, stepped to the open window.
Being short in stature, he raised himself to his tiptoes and reassured her one last time, “Please don’t worry, Miss Sarah.
We shall take good care of Sea View while you’re gone. ”
Would they?
After one last kiss to his daughter’s cheek, William climbed in and closed the door. He took Claire’s hand and leaned forward to address them both. “Ready, you two?”
“Ready,” Claire agreed.
Sarah managed a wooden nod.
A few moments later, the hired post chaise rattled away from Sidmouth, beginning the long journey north. The snug interior held only one forward-facing bench, and she felt Claire’s shoulder press into hers at every turning.
Sarah shifted on the padded seat, agitation gnawing at her, urging her to demand the vehicle stop and let her down.
The cord that bound her to Sea View, to Mamma and her other sisters, stretched tighter and tighter, pulling at her ribs, until it seemed about to snap in two and tear out her heart as well.
She became aware of Claire’s worried gaze on her profile and felt her sister squeeze her hand. Sarah had no wish to dampen Claire’s pleasure on this, her wedding trip. She turned to her and mustered a smile.
Claire and William had remained in Sidmouth for a few weeks after their nuptials before departing on this trip.
They had delayed because they’d wanted to witness the quiet wedding of Mira’s uncle, Armaan, and Sonali Patel.
And because they’d wanted to help the couple as they took over ownership of the boarding house until they had things well in hand.
Armaan and Sonali had generously offered to care for Mira during their absence.
Did Mamma, Georgie, Emily, and Mr. Gwilt have things at Sea View well in hand?
She hoped she’d remembered to show them everything that needed to be done: the menus, the orders and payments to butcher, greengrocer, coal merchant, et cetera.
Had she left anything off her many lists?
What if something went wrong? Would they be able to deal with any demanding guests?
Sarah reminded herself that she truly wanted to go to Scot land—or at least to see a certain handsome Scotsman—but perhaps she should have refused. Let her sister and new husband travel alone together.
Both Claire and William had assured Sarah she was welcome to accompany them.
A bride’s sister or close friend often traveled with a new-wed couple.
Husband and wife would, of course, have their own room at inns along the way, but the sisters could help each other dress and enjoy each other’s company and conversation during the long hours on the road.
On Claire’s other side, William lifted his wife’s hand and kissed her knuckles.
Sarah pretended not to notice.
Instead, she gazed at the passing countryside through the front window.
She looked past the two postilions, who rode the left-hand horse of each pair pulling the chaise.
The men’s boots and coats were already splattered with mud, and they had not yet crossed the Devonshire border.
Sarah felt sorry for whoever had to do their laundry.
At the thought, her stomach twisted. Had she remembered to detail the laundry lists?
Sarah forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply and admonished herself not to worry.
The days passed quickly as they traveled, even though they had to pause every few hours to change horses, and often postilions as well. It would be a long journey to Scotland, and they broke it up with several stops along the way.
They visited Bath, the picturesque ruins of Tintern Abbey, and the spa town of Cheltenham. Now and again, Sarah witnessed a sweet caress or stolen kiss between her traveling companions and looked away, feigning interest in the view and feeling like a gooseberry.
As the distance between them and Sea View lengthened, Sarah slowly began to relax and enjoy herself. They’d come too far to turn back now.
Continuing north, they spent a few days admiring the scenery of the Lake District.
Sarah sometimes joined William and Claire for meals, sightseeing, and shopping, but she insisted the two spend time alone together as well.
She happily remained at the inn while they hired a boat for a romantic excursion on Windermere Lake.
She recalled her own excursion in a small boat a year and a half ago, sailing along the coast with Callum Henshall, the sea breeze ruffling his hair, his warm gaze lingering on her face.
... Would he look at her that way again? She certainly hoped so.
Every night, the new-wed couple retired to one room, and Sarah to another. Observing the tenderness between the two and Claire’s glow of contentment, Sarah felt a pang. She was genuinely happy her eldest sister had found true love, yet she increasingly longed for a love of her own.