Page 81 of The Seaside Homecoming
With a glance at her pretty sister, Sarah supposed they hadtheir answer as to why such fashionable people would choose to stay at Sea View rather than the York Hotel or London Inn.
One of the ladies gave a discreet cough, and Mr. Craven turned and gestured toward them. “You may remember my sisters, Caroline and Persephone.”
“I too have recently married,” the older of the two, Caroline, said. “To Welford Harding, the shipping magnate. Perhaps you have heard of him?”
“I am afraid not,” Emily said. “But congratulations.”
“Well, do come in and we shall get everything settled,” Sarah said, gesturing toward the door of the office.
Once inside, Sarah selected keys to rooms across the front of the house, with views of the sea.
Mrs. Harding said, “I should have the best room, as I am the only one among us married, and first in precedence. And do put Herriot, my lady’s maid, close to me.”
“Very well. I shall put you in Scots Pine. It has a smaller, adjoining room that should suit your maid well.” Sarah did not enjoy putting unpleasant people in the room named for Mr. Henshall, but she refused to let her heart rule over matters of business.
“And Miss Craven, I will give you the Oak room. It also has an excellent view. And Mr. Craven, you shall be on the other side of Mrs. Harding.”
Sidney Craven gave a teasing pout. “I had hoped for a room next to Miss Emily’s, but alas, my hopes are for naught now.”
Emily’s eyes flashed. “My husband would object most vehemently should you trespass anywhere near our room, I assure you.”
He smirked. “I do so like a challenge.”
Indignant on Emily’s behalf, Sarah was tempted to slap the smug look from his face and barely managed to keep her countenance.
Mrs. Harding rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. He’s a rake. Most men are, sadly.”
Even so, Sarah felt compelled to say, “Emily’s husband is an expert swordsman, and his blade is never far from his side.”
Mr. Craven raised both hands. “Consider me duly warned.”
Yet he did not appear at all chastised. In fact, a mischievous gleam shone in his eyes.
Sarah wondered, for the first time, if she should insist Georgiana begin locking her door at night. Perhaps she would as well.
They did not customarily serve dinner on Sundays, but they had decided to make an exception for these guests. That evening, they were a table of eight, with Mrs. Harding, Miss Craven, and Mr. Craven along with Mr. Hornbeam, Emily and James, Mamma, and Georgiana. Sarah took her turn helping Jessie and Mr. Gwilt serve the meal.
Sarah had suggested Emily and James might like to have dinner in their room to avoid Mr. Craven, but Emily had lifted a pert chin. “No, thank you. I want to show off the handsome and far-superior man I married.”
When they were all seated, Caroline Harding looked around the table and said archly, “Are we to dine with your entire family? What a privilege.”
Her brother muttered, “Now, Caro...”
Emily feigned a smile. “If you would prefer a tray in your room, we would be happy to provide one.”
“Isthis your entire family?” Miss Craven asked.
Ignoring her, Mamma began ladling soup from the large tureen at her elbow while Emily began the introductions.
“This is our mother, Mrs. Summers. Sarah, you have met. Our sister Georgiana. And this is my husband, James Thomson.”
“And this is Mr. Hornbeam,” Mamma added. “Our friend and longtime guest.”
Emily gestured to the sideboard, where Mr. Gwilt and Jessie were preparing to lay the next course. “And Mr. Gwilt helps us in many ways, as does Jessie.”
“Ah, we are to be introduced to the servants as well. How unexpectedly charming are these boarding houses one reads about.”
“Guest house,” Mamma corrected as she served the final bowl of soup to herself.
