Page 17 of The Sisters of Sea View
She glimpsed leanly muscled arms and masculine physique—lightly haired barrel chest and flat stomach.
Her throat went dry. She lowered her hand and said in a raspy voice, “W-what are you doing?”
The man startled, whirling toward the sound of her voice, his head still cocooned in the shirt.
“Dressing, I believe it is called.” He yanked the shirt down, and his head emerged like a mole from its burrow, his arms still trapped within.
His caramel brown hair was tousled in disarray, and his narrow eyes widened as they settled on her.
“Ah, there you are, Emily,” Sarah called from behind in a faux-cheerful voice. “You’ve mistaken your room.” Her sister clamped vise-like hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Pray, forgive us, Mr. Stanley.”
Sarah released her hold only long enough to shut the door before firmly leading her away.
“What is th-that man doing in my room?” Emily sputtered.
“It is his room now.”
“I have not even moved my things out yet!”
“Though I have asked you repeatedly to do so.”
“You might have warned me.”
“Mr. Stanley arrived while you were out, expecting a room with a good view. Apparently, he wrote to reserve these dates, yet there was nothing in the guest register, nor could I find his letter.”
“Why is that my fault?”
“You are the one who snaps up the post as soon as it arrives.”
Emily opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. The name Stanley rang a vague bell in her memory, and her stomach sank. Shehadwritten back to confirm his stay but had completely forgotten to add it to the register. And she had no idea where his letter had ended up.
“You are right. I forgot to write it down.”
“Never mind that now. He was graciousness itself in waiting for us to prepare a room for him, so please don’t protest, or at least not so loudly.”
“Why not give him your room?”
“Because mine is small and at the back of the house. It’s also right under Georgie’s, and you know she stomps around like a battalion with a battering ram.”
“But my room has an excellent view of the sea.”
“Precisely. Just as you described it in your advertisements.”
Defensiveness rose. “Oh, so I brought this upon myself. Is that it?”
“Come, my dear. Let us not quarrel again. I am so weary of it.”
“What has Mamma to say about you giving my room to a strange man?”
Sarah’s bright blue eyes locked on hers, and rare irritation flashed. “Tell me you are not going to run to Mamma with our petty squabbles, which will only strain her nerves.”
It was very like something Emily would accuse Viola of doing. The chastisement stung.
Sarah added, “I have moved your belongings into my room. However, if you would prefer an attic room with Georgie...”
“Did you gather all my clothes and things?”
“Not everything. I could not make the man wait all day. I packed all I could into your trunk, and Lowen helped me move it.”
