Page 2 of A Sea View Christmas (On Devonshire Shores)
They did not stop in Carlisle—a place of bitter memories. A few years before, Claire had been abandoned there by a lord who’d convinced her to elope with him and then changed his mind before they’d even reached Gretna Green.
Instead, they continued on toward Edinburgh.
Their aunt Mercer had stunned them all by leaving Claire her house as thanks for the time she had lived with and cared for her.
Claire was eager to show it to both Sarah and William and gain their opinions on whether to keep the place or sell it.
She had written to their aunt’s solicitor to inform him of their upcoming visit.
The man wrote back to assure them of a gracious welcome, explaining that Agnes Mercer’s elderly butler had stayed on to oversee the property while it was unoccupied and would be there to open the house for them and provide a set of keys.
Once all was arranged, Claire had urged Sarah to write to Mr. Henshall, letting him know of the planned trip.
Sarah had protested that it would be too forward to suggest they meet, but Claire had assured her there was nothing untoward about it.
They were traveling a long way to look at the house.
While they were there, it would be only polite to visit an acquaintance, especially one who’d performed such kind offices for their family.
After all, Mr. Henshall had paid a call at Aunt Mercer’s on their behalf to learn how Claire fared, and later redeemed Claire’s necklace from a pawn dealer.
Sarah had relented and written to him yet had received no reply.
She had already been nervous about the prospect of seeing him again, and his silence only added to her unease.
Her sisters had tried to encourage her, saying Sarah’s letter may have been lost in the post. Or his reply had been delayed for some reason. Of course he would be happy to see her again.
Sarah hoped they were right. Otherwise, how mortifying the reunion might be.
Reaching the outskirts of Edinburgh at last, Sarah craned her neck to take it all in. Upon entering the city, Claire pointed out the Palace of Holyroodhouse and the Edinburgh Castle high on its rocky hill.
As they wound through the Old Town and into the New, the tightly packed shops, sooty grey buildings, and smokestacks soon gave way to rows of elegant terraced houses of lighter sandstone, church spires, and tree-lined squares.
Finally they reached Aunt Mercer’s home in just such a row of tall, connected houses, where they alighted with stiff limbs and eagerness.
William helped unload their baggage and dismissed the postilions with an extra gratuity for delivering them safely.
The men would take the chaise and horses to a local livery.
As they approached the imposing home, the door opened and an elderly man dressed in black appeared.
Claire beamed at him. “Mr. Campbell! How good to see you again. And how glad I was to learn you still live here. Allow me to introduce my sister Sarah and my husband, Mr. Hammond.”
“Welcome, one and all. And pleased I was to learn who the new owner was to be! Your aunt did not breathe a word. A woman of surprises, was she not?”
“Indeed, she was.”
The former cook, maids, and footman had acquired new situations elsewhere, but Campbell explained that he had engaged two new housemaids and a kitchen maid to serve them during their visit, despite Claire’s offer to take their meals at a nearby inn.
Campbell’s own sister, who like her brother had been in service for many years, had come out of retirement to serve as cook.
He said, “I hope you approve of the arrangements, Miss ... er, Mrs. Hammond.”
“Wholeheartedly. Thank you so much.”
Claire insisted Sarah waste no time in sending a message to Mr. Henshall, who lived north of Edinburgh, near the town of Kirkcaldy.
“Just to let him know we’ve arrived safely and would be pleased to receive him here or to meet somewhere at his convenience.”
Sarah wrote a brief note in a shaky hand, and Campbell dispatched a messenger to deliver it.
Then the three settled in to explore Edinburgh while they waited.
They set off for the Old Town to visit the Palace of Holyroodhouse and the castle. On the way, Claire pointed out the shop where she’d pawned the necklace Aunt Mercer had left her, to pay for the journey to Sidmouth.
The Edinburgh Castle had opened to visitors only that May. Before that it had been a military fortress and hospital and had also housed prisoners of war.
They purchased their tickets from the stationers on Bank Street for one shilling each and toured the Crown Room to see the Scottish regalia. The rest of the castle remained off limits.
Sarah wished Mr. Henshall were there to help explain the significance of the various items on display.
Over the next few days, the three strolled through the leafy squares of New Town, perused shops, and sampled Scottish cuisine.
And all the while Sarah was waiting and worrying. Why did Mr. Henshall not visit? Or at least send a reply? Had something happened to him or Effie?
Not long after reaching Edinburgh, William had written to an old friend, and soon they were invited to dinner at the home of Sir Robert and Henrietta Liston, who lived several miles west of Edinburgh.
William, a former diplomat, had served with the Listons in Constantinople, where Sir Robert had been the ambassador.
Sarah and Claire dressed with care, both of them somewhat intimidated by the prospect of dining with an ambassador and his wife. But upon arrival, their hosts quickly made them comfortable with their warm, unaffected manners.
When Mrs. Liston learned they lived in Sidmouth, she gave them a sad little smile. “One of my brothers is buried there. Nathaniel Marchant. A physician who spent much of his life in Antigua before his health declined. I understand there is a memorial to him in the church there.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sarah said. “And I shall look for it.”
Over dinner, the couple entertained them with tales of the customs and mishaps they’d experienced in the Ottoman Empire and other far-flung places where they had resided during their long diplomatic career.
The evening passed quite pleasantly. And again, Sarah could not help thinking how much Mr. Henshall’s company would have added to their enjoyment. Or at least to hers.