His neighbor had lost her sight, and had it return unexpectedly all at once. “Her eyesight is much improved, sir, and she has been able to resume her correspondence again without any undue strain.”
“What do you believe cured her?”
That was the question everyone asked. “I am not sure we will ever know. She had fallen and struck her head that day. The blow appeared an inconsequential matter at first but within an hour she could see shapes and light once more. She experienced pain. I understand she almost did not realize she could see faces again.”
“A miracle.”
“A fortunate day.” Valentine was careful not to make reference to the other event of that same day. His race against Miss Julia Radley had immediately preceded Lady Watson’s return to health, and made many uncomfortable when it came up in conversation.
Mrs. Faraday bustled into the room, followed by a manservant bearing a tray of refreshments, and he was grateful for the distraction. Valentine quickly returned the mantel clock to its box but left the pocket watch out on show.
“I took the liberty of arranging tea. Mr. Faraday cannot tolerate spirits so close to midnight.” Mrs. Faraday beamed at her husband as she passed over a strong cup of tea and then spared Valentine a careful glance. “It has been good to see you again, Mr. Merton. It’s been too long since you came to dinner.”
“Forgive me.” Valentine had been keeping a low profile on purpose. He’d quickly grown weary of the jabs about his loss against Julia Radley, and then in the next breath having to listen to insinuations that Miss Radley was fast outside of the sea, too, which couldn’t be further from the truth. “I trust your children are well.”
“Oh, yes. Edgar is much the same of course. Quite busy with his growing family but I do wish he’d visit more often. My daughter’s become very popular of late and mentioned just the other day how much she misses seeing your sister about town.”
At the mention of his sister, Valentine inwardly groaned. Everyone outside of his friends asked about Melanie but few understood the real reason for her departure. He’d sent her away to keep the peace. “I had a letter from her today and she is quite busy in Oxford. I fear my father has stolen her away from us for some time to come.”
Mrs. Faraday appeared genuinely disappointed, as many Brighton matrons were when he broke the news. “That is a great pity. She was such a strident voice against young ladies who foolishly flouted the conventions required by greater society.”
Strident? Opinionated. Cutting. At times without any trace of tact. Melanie had offended many young women with her words. Especially his friends’ sisters.
Even so, Valentine missed his sister. She had been the most painfully honest person in his life. Having been the one to insist she return home to their parents for a time was a decision he had agonized over ever since.
He toyed with the pocket watch before passing it over when Mrs. Faraday showed interest.
“A lovely piece, sir,” she murmured. “Reminds me of the first piece Mr. Faraday made for me when we became engaged. I carry it in my reticule every time I go out.”
He inclined his head and met Mr. Faraday’s keen gaze. “Do you think my application to join the company will be accepted?”
Faraday studied his teacup. “That is unclear. The company does not adopt many craftsmen in a year and your situation is different than most. Acceptance depends on more than just skill.”
“Oh?”
“Strong family support is vital to all members.”
A chill swept through Valentine at this unexpected emphasis. He’d worked hard to hone his chosen craft but his parents had no idea his hobby had grown to mean so much to him. Father would not approve of his decision to apply to the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers either. The man believed trade was beneath them and expected Valentine to take up a teaching position at the Radcliffe Observatory, Oxford, before too long. Mama would likely fall into a swoon at his impending loss of status.
“A stable and prosperous situation in society is preferred, too,” Faraday murmured. “What affects one affects us all.”
Gooseflesh raced over his skin. “I have lived in Brighton for most of my life. I am well known about Town.”
Faraday arched a brow. “Hmm, perhaps too well known, and for the wrong reasons at present.”
Valentine broke out in a cold sweat. “You are speaking of the race, are you not?”
“I am attempting to warn you that such indiscretions will not be tolerated or dismissed so easily.” Faraday glanced at his wife. “The company has a reputation to uphold. Being defeated by a slip of a girl is less than pleasing to many of the members.”
He glanced at Mrs. Faraday too. The woman was examining her fingers and would not meet his gaze. He had hoped for a sign from her that the matter was not so serious as to ruin his chances entirely.
“Miss Radley is a strong swimmer,” he assured them. He refused to use the word “fast” for the obvious twist everyone seemed to place upon it.
Mr. Faraday grunted. “She should be ashamed of herself.”
Valentine stared hard at Faraday, on the brink of being uncivil. “It was a fair race. Nothing more scandalous than that I assure you.”
“Still. It doesn’t set a good example for you to have been involved,” he warned. “The company will meet to discuss your application next week. I shall let you know the outcome either way.”