Page 28 of The Sisters of Sea View
“How charming.”
He shrugged broad shoulders. “Pa won’t let ’er keep a dog, so this is the best I can do.”
“Very thoughtful. You make me wish I had an older brother. Any brother, really.”
He smiled shyly up at her.
An idea struck. “I don’t suppose you would do a little carving for us? Sarah has taken it into her head to name all of our guest rooms after trees, and I can’t keep them straight. I suppose she isright, and we can’t keep calling them ‘Emily’s old room’ or ‘the room where Papa slept.’ We’d pay you of course.”
He squinted in thought. “Small wooden placards, you mean?”
“Yes, carved with the room names, so we could hang them on each door.”
“I could do, yes. Though I’m better at fishin’ and carvin’ than spellin’.”
“I will bring you a list. How’s that?”
He nodded his assent. “Though ’twill have to wait till I’m through wi’ this, and I can only carve when we’re not fishin.’ Or the weather keeps us home.”
“I understand. No great rush.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you, Tom. I feel more cheerful already, talking to you.”
Another shy smile.
Noticing her, Bibi came out to greet her, and Tom slipped the carved toy into his pocket.
Emily talked with the pair a few minutes longer. As she witnessed the warm, teasing fondness between brother and sister, an ache throbbed in her breast. She’d never had a brother, but her oldest sister used to tease her like that. So had Charles. At the thought, her mood lowered once again.
She missed Claire almost as much as she missed Charles. Emily had always looked up to her, and Claire’s sudden departure last May had been a blow. She had not even had a chance to say good-bye.
Emily thought back. She had spent a fortnight with a school friend who’d invited her to Cheltenham. When she returned to Finderlay, she’d been stunned to learn that Claire had moved to Scotland. Mamma said Papa’s ancient Aunt Mercer was ailing and needed a companion straightaway. Dutiful Claire had gone.
Emily had asked for their direction, but her mother had put her off, saying Claire would still be growing accustomed to her newresponsibilities, and fastidious Aunt Mercer would not want her companion to be distracted.
And then, with Papa’s declining health and subsequent death, they soon had more pressing matters to worry about.
Emily sighed. How much had changed in the last year. And none of it for the better.
6
To be blind is not miserable;
not to be able to bear blindness,
that is miserable.
—John Milton
The next morning, Sarah arose early and quietly dressed herself in wraparound stays and front-fastening frock before pulling on wool stockings, shoes, and mantle. Still in their shared bed, Emily slept peacefully. Her face in repose, framed in paper curls, looked young and sweet.
As she tiptoed from the room, Sarah reasoned she was duty-bound to make sure Mr. Henshall was not involved in anything clandestine or illegal. But if she were honest with herself, simple curiosity had prodded her awake and into her clothes before the sun had risen.
Tiptoeing down the back stairs to the basement, she walked quietly past the kitchen, where a yawning Jessie was already lighting the stove. She climbed the outside stairs and crept along the house. Peeking around the corner, she waited until Mr. Henshall emerged from the main entrance.
When he did, she followed him at a distance. The cold sea water and warming spring air formed a dense fog—a covering she wasglad for, though she feared she might lose sight of her quarry in the smoke-like swirl.
