Page 37 of The Sisters of Sea View
“Don’t fuss, maid’n. You mean well, I know. Tomorrow soon enough?”
Emily nodded. “Perfect!”
Punch and Tom came ambling down the beach—Tom with a coil of rope around his shoulder, Punch with an impish grin on his face.
“Well, now it truly is a beautiful day,” Punch said. “Miss Sunshine is here.”
His older brother nodded. “Miss.”
Emily instantly felt self-conscious. What had Sarah advised? To be more guarded in Tom’s presence? Not to ... sparkle?
“Good afternoon, Punch.” She glanced at his handsome brother and quickly away again, saying rather stiffly, “And ... Tom.”
Botheration. This was worse! Tom would think her either a schoolgirl with a case of calf-love or suddenly strange and distant.
She mustered another smile and bestowed it on each fisherman in equal measures. “I bid you good day, gentlemen.”
“Gentlemen, is it? That’s a laugh,” Punch teased. “Good day to you too,gentlewoman.”
She grinned back at him, then dared another look at his brother.
Tom was staring at her, steadily, with no hint of a smile.
Fiddle.Perhaps Sarah had been right after all.
———
On her way home, Emily saw Mr. Stanley, top hat in place, whistling as he strode away from Sea View toward the eastern town. An idea struck. With him out of the house, it would be safe, would it not?
Dare she?
She only wanted to dart in and retrieve something she had left in her room. Something she had hidden.
Going inside, she went up to the bedroom level. At the top of the stairs, she hesitated, looking both ways, then tiptoed towardhis room. Reaching it, she gingerly tested the latch, wondering if he had locked it. It gave, and she inched open the door with an anticipatory wince, knowing how it squeaked.
Glancing down the corridor once more, she opened the door just wide enough to slip inside, closing it as far as she could without latching it.
Noticing the unmade bed, she quickly tidied it. That would be her excuse if caught inside. She felt unaccountably warm and giddy as she plumped his pillow and spread the bedclothes into place, her fingers lingering on the counterpane.
On the nearby dressing chest, a small hinged case lay open. Curious, she walked closer to look inside. The plush interior held a cravat pin, a pair of silver sleeve buttons, and a gentleman’s ring. The gold ring was engraved with the letterMringed by tiny tulips. His signet ring, she supposed. She had not seen him wear it and wondered why.
Then she walked to the wardrobe, opened the door, and stood on tiptoes, stretching her arm high, trying to reach the upper shelf.
“Um ... may I help you?”
At the sound of the masculine voice, she gasped and whirled, cheeks flaming. “Oh! Mr. Stanley. I thought you had gone out. I came in to, um, make your bed.” She pointed. “As you see.”
“And the wardrobe?”
“I just ... I left something here.”
Brows knitted, he frowned. “So you sneaked in after I left? I came back because I realized I forgot to lock my door. Now I see I should have.”
She flinched. “I am sorry. Please don’t be angry. I promise I did not come in here to poke through your belongings or take anything of yours.”
He remained sober. “You might have simply come and asked me for whatever it is.”
“I should have. You are right. Pray forgive me.”
