Page 110 of The Sisters of Sea View
Noticing her approach, Mr. Stanley jerked upright and seemed all at once unsure what to do with the pastry in his hand.
“Miss Summers.”
“Mr. Stanley.” A fleck of icing glazed his lip, and she bit back a smile—and the urge to wipe it away.
Emily turned instead to his companion, a pleasant-looking, genteel young lady in a simple day dress, spencer, and chip bonnet.
Following the direction of her gaze, Mr. Stanley said, “Ah. Miss Summers. Allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Stanley.”
The young woman rose, and the two curtsied to each other. Then she glanced at her brother and scratched a gloved finger to her lip with a significant, raised-brow look. He colored and wiped his mouth.
She said, “Summers? Ah ... the family who owns the boarding house you chose.”
Emily steeled herself and was relieved to see no derision in the girl’s expression.
“That’s right,” he began, “but—”
Emily spoke up. “We have only recently opened the house to guests, and my sisters and I are muddling along as best we can. Your brother has been most patient and obliging.”
Miss Stanley’s dimples appeared. “I am not surprised. I have provided him many opportunities to learn patience over the years.”
“Very true,” he said.
She gave him a playful elbow in the side.
The young woman’s friendly demeanor and caramel-brown hair were similar to her brother’s, and Emily quickly decided she liked her.
Miss Stanley glanced from Emily to her brother with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “And now I understand why we see so little of him lately.”
“So little!” he protested on a laugh. “I call on you and your friend almost every evening.”
Emily looked past them toward the library window. “Is your friend not with you?”
Miss Stanley shook her head. “Poor thing has a megrim and decided to stay in bed.”
“What a pity.”
“Therefore I have been on my own for hours.” Miss Stanley sighed. “Pray do not be offended, Miss Summers, but I cannot help wishing my brother had chosen to stay in the same hotel. It would be much more convenient.”
“For you, perhaps,” he replied. “Yet I prefer Sea View with all its homelike comforts.”
His sister sent him a sly glance. “And you know, if you resided in our hotel, Miss Marchant and I would pester you all day to fetch our shawls, bring us ice creams, and escort us shopping.”
“There is that as well,” he agreed. “I enjoy my freedom.”
Emily observed the way brother and sister fondly teased each other, and felt a wistful pang. When they were younger, she and Viola had often wished for a brother—and not only because of that awful entail.
She smiled at his sister. “Well. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Stanley.” Another round of curtsies and a bow followed, and then Emily continued into the library alone.
Once inside, the lure of book covers and printed pages did not instantly draw her as usual. Seeing the clerk busy with another customer, Emily paused at the window and watched Mr. and Miss Stanley leave the veranda and stroll away.
Their familiar affection reminded her of how Charles had once treated her and her sisters. In their younger years, he had filled the role of brother in many ways: teasing them, joining them for lawn games and dancing lessons, walking with them into the village, and occasionally bringing gifts of game from his hunting expeditions.
He had been unfailingly kind to Claire, Sarah, and Georgiana. He had been kind tohertoo, although he sometimes admonished her for boisterous behavior or unladylike outbursts of laughter.
In hindsight, his manner had been more reserved with Viola. Her surgeries and recoveries had isolated her for long periods, so perhaps he simply did not know her as well. Or perhaps because of her condition, he deemed her too sensitive to tease.
As Emily grew older, Charles’s attentions toward her had changed. He had corrected her less and admired her more, or so she’d thought. They began spending a great deal of time together—riding, walking, talking—and Mamma began to cluck like a proud mother hen in expectation of one of her brood marrying.
