Page 26 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
“I used to enter them, too.”
“Ah.” That explained it, then. “Did you ever win?”
“Once. That was what brought me to Oxford—to claim my prize. One entire guinea.”
He smiled at the thought of a young Elissa and how excited she must have been. “At least you’re in practice. I haven’t done any meaningful study since leaving Cambridge.”
Elissa looked up, surprised. “Have you not? I felt certain you would be a lifelong scholar.”
Edward repressed the urge to squirm or look away. “No, I have the running of my family’s estate. It quite occupies my time.”
This was not precisely true. Edward did handle the estate business, and it did occupy his time. But he could have left it to his father. Then there was the fact that he could probably generate ninety percent of the estate’s current profits (which had doubled on his watch) while putting in half as much time.
But even though he wasn’t quite so busy as he pretended to be, the idea of working on a translation was paralyzing. After his experience withPrometheus Unbound, and then losing to Robert Slocombe, he found he had difficulty starting anything. Flaws were inevitable. His efforts would never be good enough and he knew it, which made it impossible to convince himself to begin. It was so much easier to fill his days with the mundane.
Beside him, Elissa was shaking her head. “That is truly a shame. A great loss for us all.” She glanced up at him. “What have you been doing to prepare for the contest?”
He sighed. “Not much. I should probably shut myself in the library for the next week and do nothing but study.”
She gave him a wry look. “And instead, here you are, consorting with the enemy.”
“You’re not my enemy,” he said quickly, willing it to be true.
“That’s not what you said the other day.”
“Nonsense,” he said, striving to inject some levity into his voice. “My only enemy is the mysterious translator ofOn the Sublime.”
“Right.” She tilted her head back to gaze at the canopy of leaves above them. “Of course.”
There was a hum of excitement down the river. It seemed the dance had concluded.
“Come,” he said, rising to his feet and offering his arm. “Your family will be missing you.”
Elissa returned his coat just before they re-crossed the river. As they strolled along in silence, Edward told himself this was for the best. His future could not include Elissa St. Cyr, so it was better that he resume thinking about her with the proper reserve. If the news that she would be competing against him was a bit like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head, well, he probably needed that bucket of cold water (dumped three feet lower, truth be told).
And so he returned her to her parents, wished them all a cordial good night, and went in search of Harrington, whom he found lounging on a bench, being fawned over by a flock of twenty-some-odd young women.
Harrington mocked him for the duration of the carriage ride home, but that was all right.
He would see Elissa St. Cyr precisely one more time—at the upcoming contest. By then, he would be betrothed to another. He would be safe from her.
CHAPTER10
Elissa received the first letter the following day:
Miss St.Cyr,
I pray you will forgive the imposition of my writing to you without an introduction, but I am hosting a house party next week, and it would please me greatly if you and your sister Cassandra would consent to attend.
I will send our carriage to collect you at one o’clock on Monday.
Yours,
Georgiana Cheltenham
Elissa blanched.She could not imagine why Edward’s mother was inviting her, of all people, to a house party.
But she absolutely could not attend.
