Page 35 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
Her eyes snapped into focus. “The library?”
“The library,” he said quickly. “Did I not mention the library?”
She bit her lip. “Is it very grand?”
“That depends. Do you consider six thousand volumes to be grand?”
“Six thousand!”
“Not all of them relate to the classics, of course.”
“Oh.” Her face fell a trifle.
He grinned wickedly. “Only around two thousand.”
She gasped. “Two thousand!” She gazed longingly toward the door.
He sensed that he had her. “Perhaps I could just show you?”
“I—I should probably just go…”
He gave her a stern look. “You’re not really going to leave without even having seen the library, are you?”
She looked torn. “I shouldn’t.”
He shook his head. “And here I thought you a true scholar.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It is positively unsporting of you to manipulate me in such a shameless fashion.”
“It is,” he agreed. He paused before adding, “Is it working?”
She let out a frustrated laugh. “You know full well it is.”
He offered his arm. “You cannot be surprised by my underhanded techniques. I am my mother’s son, after all.”
She huffed at him, but her lips were twisted into a reluctant smile.
Edward turned to her sister. “Mrs. Gorten, might I impose upon you again? We’re on our way to the library.”
CHAPTER14
Two hours later, Elissa made her way back to her bedroom accompanied by three footmen (three strong men being the number required to carry all of the books that had caught her eye).
As soon as they’d arrived at the library, Cassandra plucked the first novel she saw off the shelf and retreated to a chair in the corner, leaving Edward to give Elissa a tour.
It had been the two most delightful hours of Elissa’s life. Not just the books (although the Astley’s library was like something out of her daydreams) but looking at the books with Edward. She had never had such a conversation before. She would exclaim over a volume of Euripides, and somehow, he would unerringly quote her favorite passage. They would then fall into arguing over who had done the better translation, Gascoigne or Ascham, until another title caught her eye, at which point the process would repeat itself.
He stacked every book she admired on the desk until it was covered. She felt mortified when she noticed how many she had chosen and said she would just pick two or three to take up to her room. He ignored her, instructed a footman to find a spare bookcase and put it in her room, and continued to pile them high. He seemed delighted by her response to the library, and it was a rare moment his dimples were not on full display. Elissa’s own face hurt from smiling so much.
But now it was time to dress for dinner, and so they reluctantly parted ways.
Elissa entered her room to discover a glossy, three-shelf rosewood bookcase standing along the wall near the reading window. “Thank you so much,” she said to the footmen as they set down their loads. “If you’ll set them on the chaise, I’ll arrange everything on the shelves.” Truth be told, she was looking forward to going through the books again.
“There were a few more downstairs, miss,” one of the footmen said. “I’ll return with them in a minute.”
“Thank you.” Elissa recognized him as the same man who had been sent to Oxford to procure the replacement copy ofTheseus.“We met the other day. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s Roger, miss.”
