Page 19 of A Sea View Christmas (On Devonshire Shores)

ELEVEN

Thy welcome eve, loved Christmas now arrived,

The parish bells, their tuneful peals resound,

And mirth and gladness every breast pervade.

—RJ Thorn, “Christmas”

Mamma and Emily hurried home to alert Sarah and request her help in preparing one of the attic rooms near Georgiana’s.

Meanwhile, Georgie, Viola, and Jack went to the vicarage to help Cora gather her things, and to protect the girl from any retaliation from the disgruntled cook.

They discovered that Cora had slept on a rough pallet on the scullery floor, which was propped against the wall when not in use.

The cook now stood in the doorway, arms crossed and scowling. “That pallet belongs to the vicar.”

Viola said, “We have no intention of taking it, I assure you.”

They gathered Cora’s few belongings into her small valise, and then the girl, emboldened by the presence of supportive friends, asked, “Mrs. Browland, where is my grandmother’s trunk?”

For a moment, the woman glared at her. “What need have you for a grown woman’s things? Have I not undergone the trouble and expense of feeding and training you?”

“She has only been here a short time,” Jack retorted.

“More over, any expense was borne by the vicar, who compensates you for your trouble . If he wishes to present me with an accounting, I shall pay it, but we will have Mrs. Limbrick’s trunk, and every single one of her and Cora’s belongings.

” Major Hutton stood tall, shoulders back and presence commanding.

He was every inch the military leader in that moment. And not a man to cross.

Cora stared at him, likely transfixed by the scars that webbed half his face and made him doubly intimidating.

Even so, Georgiana wondered if Colin’s charm would have been more effective, or at least more pleasant. She was oddly glad the major’s younger brother did not possess the same fierce bearing.

Viola, in conciliatory tones, added, “And we will happily reimburse you for any out-of-pocket expenses you have borne. Won’t we, my dear?”

Jack’s nostrils flared. “If and when every one of Cora’s belongings has been returned to her.”

For a moment cook and major squared off, but then the woman huffed. “The trunk is in my room. For safekeeping. There was no space for it in the scullery.”

Jack followed the woman to her room down the passage and emerged a short while later carrying the trunk on his own. After a telling look from Viola, he set it down, begrudgingly removed a few coins from his purse, and handed them to the woman.

Then he summoned Taggart, and together the two men carried the trunk out and lifted it onto the Huttons’ carriage. As Georgiana helped Cora climb inside, she heard Jack grumble, “Tell me why we gave that woman even a farthing?”

Viola patted his arm and replied, “Think of it as an offering to the church, my dear. For a bit more peace for the vicar and his wife.”

Once they reached Sea View, Jack and Taggart hefted the trunk while Mr. Gwilt carried Cora’s valise up the several flights of stairs to the attic.

In a former servant’s room between Georgie’s own bedchamber and the old schoolroom, they found Sarah, Emily, and Mamma hard at work, sweeping the floor, smoothing fresh bedclothes onto the single bed, and arranging a hand towel, basin, and pitcher on the washstand.

Sarah, broom in hand, paused to eye the newcomer with interest. Sarah had often taken baked goods to the poor house but was less familiar with the pupils of the charity school.

“Welcome, Cora,” Mamma began. “We hope you will be comfortable here.”

Georgie added, “You know Emily already, and this is our older sister Sarah.”

“Welcome,” Sarah echoed her mother’s greeting. “We’ve tidied up as best we could in the short time we had. We shall clean the windows and perhaps replace these old curtains in a day or two.”

“That’s all right. It’s nice,” Cora said.

“You don’t...” Mamma hesitated, then asked, “That is, do you mind that we interfered and took you from the vicarage? They did not allow you to speak for yourself, so I hope you know we were acting from the best intentions. If you preferred to stay where you were, then...”

“No, ma’am. I did not want to stay there. I want Nan.”

“Of course you do.” Mamma braced an arm around her small shoulders. “I am sorry, my dear. I know you are grieving and maybe even scared. We will help you all we can. Won’t we, girls?”

“Yes,” Georgie said eagerly, and Emily echoed her reply.

Sarah nodded her agreement, even as her feelings remained unsettled.

In truth, she did not know how to feel about it.

Her mother, an invalid for many years, now making such a bold decision, one that might prove life-changing for Cora and, in some ways, for all of them.

It was not that Sarah questioned her mother’s state of mind in pursuing such a course. She knew her to be rational and kind.

And it made sense, to a degree. She had been a friend to Cora’s mother, and the girl apparently had no family now that her grandmother had died.

Yet for years, they had all feared their mother might not survive much longer, and here she was, committing to care for a child at least until she reached adulthood, nearly a decade hence.

Mamma had gained strength and shown signs of recovery in recent months, but would it last?

And if not, which of them would care for Cora in her stead?

There was a time, not long ago, when Sarah had felt responsible for her mother. And now, here her mother was, vowing to take responsibility for someone else.

The thought left Sarah feeling oddly torn between admiration and unease. She hoped her mother would not live to regret her decision. That they all, Cora included, would not come to regret it.

A short while later, Georgie took Cora down to the kitchen for something to eat while Sarah, Emily, and their mother finished tidying the room.

Sarah realized Mamma was watching her in some concern. “Sarah? You are awfully quiet. Do you disapprove?”

“No. I am just surprised. And ... thinking ahead to the implications. Her future. Ours.”

“You need not worry about being responsible for her one day. Should something happen to me, Jack and Viola have offered to serve as guardians in my stead.”

“Have they?” Emily asked. “How gracious of them.”

“Yes,” Sarah agreed. And how petty she felt for harboring reservations. “It was good of you, Mamma,” she said. “Very generous.”

Later that night, after the others had gone to bed, Sarah sat near the fire with Mr. Henshall, Emily, and James.

James had returned late from Killerton, so after bringing him some food, Emily explained the day’s events to him, describing the meeting and its outcome.

Mr. Henshall listened with interest as well.

While the three of them conversed, Sarah took advantage of the quiet time to work on the dancing slippers for Effie.

James, clearly tired from his long day, soon bid them good-night. Emily followed. Sarah and Mr. Henshall, however, lingered in the parlour.

He asked what she thought of the day’s developments.

Sarah reconsidered the situation, then admitted, “It’s odd.

I feel like I have been trying to take care of Mamma—of the entire family—for years.

Especially after Claire left and Papa died.

And now, well ... perhaps this shows she does not need looking after anymore.

And if so, that is good. And I am grateful.

And yet ... Oh, what is wrong with me? ”

He reached over and took her hand in his larger, warmer one. “We all like to feel needed, important to those we love. It’s only natural. And ye are important. To all of us.”

Sarah’s chest tightened and tears blurred her vision. “Thank you. That is kind of you to say.”

For a moment she returned the pressure of his hand, but then she slipped her fingers from his and rose. “Now I had better go to bed as well. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and there will be much to do.”

The next morning, Sarah rose early as was her custom and went downstairs to the library-office. She was surprised to find Effie already up, staring out the window toward the turbulent sea, expression troubled.

“Good morning, Effie. Everything all right?”

“Well enough, I suppose. Odd about your mam and Georgie bringing that little girl here to live, is it not?”

“Certainly surprising.”

“What do ye think about it?”

“I hardly know. It’s still so new. Why? Does it ... trouble you for some reason?”

“I liked it better when Georgie treated me as her little sister.”

Sarah’s heart went out to her, and she stepped closer. “Oh, Effie. She is very fond of you as well.”

Effie shrugged. “Then she’d be the first.”

“That is not true. All of us care about you. And your stepfather and your aunt both love you deeply.”

Another shrug.

“In fact, Mr. Henshall told me when you two were last here that although he is not your natural father, he feels as protective and fond of you as any father would—any good, loving father, that is.”

When Effie remained quiet, Sarah laid a hand on her shoulder and said gently, “I am sorry your parents were not ... all they might have been. Is that why you don’t want to visit your mother’s grave?”

Effie nodded. “I should have been here when she died. If I had been, perhaps...” She shook her head. “But she did not like me. Refused to bring me to Sidmouth with them, even though Mr. Henshall insisted he would welcome my company.”

“Perhaps she thought you were too young to travel such a long way.”

Again Effie shook her head. “I hoped she might warm toward me after my father died. But no.”

“Mr. Henshall mentioned that her first husband was ... difficult.”

“Aye. He gambled away most of her valuables. Yelled vile things at her. Struck her.”

“And you?”

“He didna strike me. Well, only with words.”

“Those leave lasting wounds too.”