Page 40 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
Edward glanced across the room, his eyes finding hers.
His smile abruptly faded.
What a fool she had been.She’d never been any good at hiding her feelings. Of course her adoration must be obvious. And in a few short days, he would be announcing his betrothal to someone else.
No wonder everyone was saying she was pathetic.
Suddenly, Elissa knew she could face neither him, nor the other guests. Not tonight, when her feelings were so raw.
She turned to Miss Grenwood. “I apologize, but I feel a headache coming on. I should lie down.”
Miss Grenwood’s eyes were full of satisfaction rather than sympathy. “Yes, that’s probably for the best.”
Elissa managed to slip from the room without anyone noticing. She would explain to Cassandra what Miss Grenwood had said.
Tomorrow.
CHAPTER17
For the next three days, beneath his impeccably calm exterior, Edward was seething.
He had felt a sense of foreboding the moment he saw Elissa engaged in conversation with the poisonous Araminta Grenwood. He’d extracted himself from his uncle with all possible speed, but Elissa had already fled the room, claiming a headache.
He could understand that well enough. Araminta Grenwood was enough to give someone with the constitution of a plough horse a megrim.
Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to get a moment alone with Elissa to find out what had happened. The second he entered a room, Miss Grenwood attached herself to his arm like a barnacle. He thought he had made it plain after her leap from behind the potted palm that she should have no expectation of a future union. But neither that nor his cool behavior seemed to dissuade her.
Every time he managed to catch Elissa’s eye, she would give him an unconvincing half-smile, then immediately avert her gaze.
What on earth could Miss Grenwood have said to her?
Then each evening, the order of precedence worked against him. As a future earl, his place near the head of the table was carved in stone. He was stuck entertaining the Dowager Viscountess Molesworth (which he actually didn’t mind, for although Lady Molesworth was on the far side of seventy, she had a fine sarcastic wit). But an evening of repartee with Lady Molesworth was a cold comfort when he could see Elissa at the far end of the table charming everyone around her. Once, Harrington somehow contrived to sit next to her, and Edward was forced to endure the sight of her laughing at his brother’s witticisms all night long.
How he longed in that moment to be the second son,Mr.Astley, who could sit where he bloody well wanted.
And so, upon the morning of the fifth day of the house party, Edward held out little hope that he would get to spend any meaningful time with Elissa. Still, when he saw her descending the portico’s steps to the front drive where the company was assembling for a walking tour of the grounds, his heart gave a pathetic flicker.
He crossed to her immediately. “Good morning, Miss Elissa. Mrs. Gorten.”
“Good morning,” Elissa said, giving him that horrible smile-that-was-not-a-smile and dropping her eyes to the toes of her boots.
“What a lovely day for a walk,” Cassandra observed.
“Yes, I only hope the weather will hold,” Edward replied. Elissa was still staring at her feet.
Harrington strolled out onto the portico, along with Caro and her husband, Lord Thetford. Edward glanced around. The entire party was assembled, save Lady Grenwood and her daughter.
His mother clapped her hands. “It is now ten o’clock. Let’s be off.”
Edward glanced at his pocket watch. It was ten sharp. It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest they allow a few minutes for the Grenwood ladies to arrive.
He stopped himself. For once in his life, he was going to ignore what he should do, and do what he actually wanted.
He offered an arm to Elissa and one to her sister, but Caro hurried over. “Mrs. Gorten, would you walk with me?” She gestured to Thetford, who was standing with Harrington and Peter Ferguson, guffawing at some joke understood only by the three of them. “My husband is with his school friends, and you cannot imagine how incorrigible they become in one another’s company. I should be so grateful for some civil conversation.”
Edward happened to know that Caro could hold her own with absolutely anyone, any day of the week and twice on Sundays. But he wasn’t about to point that out.
“I should be delighted,” Cassandra said.
