Read Online Trouble at the Wedding by Laura Lee Guhrke - Free Book Online

these hourglass curves did indeed belong to Miss Annabel Wheaton, and if she had a face to go with that body, then it was no surprise Rumsford had gone after her instead of an equally wealthy girl from the Knickerbocker set. On the other hand, she seemed willing to settle for Rummy quite gladly, so how pretty could she be?
    The door banged again and the young woman below looked back over her shoulder. “There you are at last!” she exclaimed as a girl about ten years old came into view, her age evidenced not only by her more diminutive stature, but also by the shorter length of her skirt, the sailor motif of her dress, and the fact that her dark hair was not put up. It hung to her shoulders, prevented from tangling in the ocean breeze by the curl-brimmed boater hanging down her back.
    â€œI’ve been looking everywhere for you,” the woman in yellow went on. “Where have you been?”
    â€œExploring. Did you know they have a sweet shop on board?” The girl pulled a lollipop out of her skirt pocket. “Just down there,” she added, flourishing the candy toward the aft end of the ship’s cabins.
    â€œSo that’s what you’ve been doing all day while the rest of us have been unpacking your things for you? Exploring the ship and buying sweets with your pocket money? Eating them all, too, I’ll bet, and spoiling your supper.”
    The girl paused in her task of unwrapping the candy from its red paper covering. “You won’t tell Mama, will you?”
    â€œTell her what?” The woman in yellow tilted her head as she asked the question, giving Christian a brief, tantalizing glimpse of delicate throat and jaw, but not much else. “Am I supposed to tell Mama something?”
    Dinah laughed and stuck the lollipop in her mouth. “I love you, Nan.”
    The older girl sniffed, not seeming particularly impressed by this declaration of affection from the younger one, who was clearly a sister. “If you love me, then kindly act like you got some raisin’, Dinah Louise, and take that candy out of your mouth when you’re talkin’ to me.”
    The younger girl pulled out the lollipop long enough to drawl a rather impudent-sounding “Yes, ma’am,” and earned herself a hard jab in the ribs from her sister’s elbow. “Ow!”
    â€œDo you still have that map the purser gave you when we came aboard?” the woman asked. “Get it out so I can have a look.”
    Dinah shoved the lollipop back in her mouth and reached into her pocket. She pulled out the requested document and unfolded it, and side by side, their backs to Christian, each holding one side to keep it from being carried away by the stiff ocean breeze, they studied the map.
    â€œWhat’s this?” The woman reached up between them, tapping the handle of her parasol against the map, then she bent her head to read the minuscule print. “A Turkish bath. My, that sounds exotic, doesn’t it? I wonder what it is.”
    â€œI know!” her sister said and once again removed the lollipop from her mouth. “I saw it earlier. A maid was there putting out towels, and she told me all about it. It’s a tiled room with big radiators and no windows, and they fill it up with steam.”
    â€œNo water?”
    Dinah shook her head. “No, just steam, because it’s not really a bath. There’s no tub or anything, just big wicker chairs you sit in.”
    â€œBut if it’s not a bath, then why do they call it that? What’s it for?”
    â€œIt’s supposed to make you sweat, so that you . . . release unhealthy toxins from your body.” She said the last part with care, as if to repeat what she’d been told as precisely as possible. “The maid said it’s supposed to be relaxin’. Some people, she said, even fall asleep.”
    â€œThat’s all there is to it?” Her sister sounded a bit disappointed.