Page 50 of The Sisters of Sea View
He swatted his hands together, pulled a handkerchief from hispocket, and wiped his hands upon it. Then he slowly looked up. “Perhaps I had better explain.”
“Yes, I think you should.”
He gestured toward two chairs near the fire. “Shall we sit?”
She hesitated. “I do not like being idle, especially when there is much to do, but if you will accompany me belowstairs, you may explain while I shell peas.”
His brow puckered in question.
She said, “Our cook is quite busy. I said I would help.”
“Very well.”
He followed her past the drawing room and dining room and down the back stairs. In the kitchen, they found pots and saucepans bubbling unattended.
It was worse than she’d thought.
Mrs. Besley scurried in, apron stained, expression harried.
“Miss! I’m afraid I’ve fallen dreadfully behind. Lowen cut his hand with a boning knife and there was blood everywhere. I’ve set Jessie to cleaning the larder floor and soaking his shirt....”
The old woman noticed Mr. Henshall, and her face sagged in dismay. “Oh, pardon me, sir. I did not see you there.”
“I am here to help with the peas, as promised,” Sarah reminded her.
Mr. Henshall said, “I will help too, if I may.”
“You, sir?”
“Why not?”
Worry lining her face, Martha Besley pointed to a basket of whole fish. “I don’t suppose you know how to clean fish?”
His face brightened. “I do indeed. I have caught and cleaned many in my day.”
“Then you, sir, are an answer to prayer. Here, let me get you a knife.”
Mr. Henshall stripped off his coat, sending Sarah an apologetic look. “Hope ye don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I’ll find an apron to protect your waistcoat.”
They moved into the quiet workroom and stood at opposite ends of the scrubbed table. Sarah started on the peas while he began methodically scaling and filleting the fish.
“Can you talk while you do that?” Sarah asked. “We don’t want another kitchen accident today.”
“I can.”
“You know, we don’t expect guests to help. You are a gentleman, and—”
“And ye are a gentleman’s daughter,” he interjected.
“Yes, but it’s my responsibility. It’s our house.”
“That may be, but I lived here for a summer.”
She paused in her task to stare at him. “You did?”
He nodded. “Three years ago.”
