Page 42 of The Sisters of Sea View
“Of course I can,” Major Hutton insisted, lip curled in disgust. “I have been lying in bed too long as it is.”
“What has the doctor said about it?” she pressed.
“I have not asked. I do not answer to him.”
“Perhaps you should. Riding seems altogether too risky after a head wound.”
“I do not answer to you either.”
Armaan intervened. “Miss Summers is wise. Let us wait and ask the good doctor when he returns. And in the meantime, Taggart and I will see to the horses.”
“Oh, very well. But if you all insist on mollycoddling me, I shall never regain my strength.”
“I disagree,” Viola said. “You seem stronger every time I see you.”
He glanced at her and away again. Was that a glimmer of hope she’d seen on his face?
“Now you are just being patronizing.”
Apparently not.
“No, I am being polite,” she retorted. Then she added gently, “You ought to try it sometime.”
That night, having finally finished her work for the day, Sarah slowly made her way up the back stairs, longing for her bed.
In the dim upstairs corridor, she glimpsed a shadowy form ahead of her and paused. Standing at the open door of the linen cupboard, candle lamp in one hand, other arm lifted high, a man scrubbed at the top shelf.
A floorboard beneath her creaked, and he whirled. She recognized the murky outlines of his face with a flare of suspicion. Mr. Henshall. He stood stiff and staring, the picture of a furtive prowler caught in the act.
The act of what? Stealing linens?
“May I help you with something?” she asked, her voice louder than she’d intended. She hoped she had not disturbed those sleeping in nearby rooms.
“Oh, um, I was just looking for an extra blanket.”
As she approached, the light of his candle lamp shone onto a lower shelf, where a pile of folded blankets sat in plain view.
She pointed. “They are right there.”
He glanced down, his features made almost ghoulish by the flickering play of light and shadow.
“Ah. I see them now. How blind ye must think me.”
How blind you must thinkme, Sarah thought. But she said only, “Anything else, Mr. Henshall?”
“No, that is all I need.”
When he made to turn without taking anything, she prompted, “The extra blanket?”
“Oh, right. How daft.”
“Shall I walk you back to your room?”
“No need.”
“I insist.” It was a strange request, Sarah realized, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep if she thought him still prowling around the house.
“Then, um, thank ye.”
