Page 74 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
Having spied him across the quad, Slocombe nodded and touched the brim of his hat. Edward returned the gesture.
Elissa was peering up at him. “Is that—”
“Robert Slocombe,” Edward said tightly.
Seeing Slocombe somehow made the disaster that was about to unfold seem real. Even after the passage of years, he couldn’t even look at the bloody man without breaking out in a cold sweat. Which was bad enough when it was Robert Slocombe, who lived in some godforsaken corner of Lancashire and whom Edward was unlikely to ever see again.
But what if Elissa beat him today? Was he going to have the same reaction? He didn’t want to, but to his immense shame, he could not be completely certain he would not. He didn’t want to loathe Robert Slocombe, after all, and yet here he was.
He could not live with himself if he had the same unworthy reaction toward Elissa.Oh God.He was going to ruin everything. He knew he was.
They mounted the stone steps.If only there was some way to get out of this.
A bespectacled man in academic robes stood outside the doors, holding a sheet of paper. “Ah, Lord Fauconbridge. A man who requires no introduction.” He made a mark on his list, then gestured to Elissa. “Women are not allowed inside the college, of course, so you’ll have to say your goodbyes out here.”
Elissa lifted her chin. “I believe you will find my name on your list as well, sir. I am Elissa St. Cyr.”
“You?” The man dropped his chin to peer at her over the tops of his spectacles, regarding her with bald skepticism. “That’s impossible.”
Her cheeks had turned pink. “I pray you, sir. Consult your list, and you will see that my name does indeed appear.”
“Nonsense,” he said, but he did scan his paper. “There is no mention of a… Well. There is anE. St. Cyr, but—”
“That is me. The ‘E’ is for Elissa.”
The man frowned. “I had assumed E. St. Cyr was the son of Julian St. Cyr.”
“You are very close. I am his daughter.”
“Well, as I said, women aren’t allowed in the college.”
“But I received an invitation—”
“No women allowed. Lord Fauconbridge, you may proceed.”
The man was waving the person queuing behind them forward, clearly annoyed that they were blocking the way, but Edward was too stunned to move. After coming all this way, Elissa would not be allowed to participate after all. He… he wouldn’t have to compete against her.
This was it. This was what he had wanted.
He glanced down at Elissa, saw that her face had crumpled, and—No.
This was not what he wanted.
Not in the slightest.
Scarcely able to believe what he was about to do, he rounded on the man. “I can assure you that Miss St. Cyr is the equal, if not the superior, of every man on your list. She has been invited to take part. You cannot turn her away.”
The man looked shocked. “Come, my lord. Be reasonable.”
“I am not being the least bit unreasonable. Miss St. Cyr’s name is on your list. You must allow her to compete.”
The man studied him a beat. Seeing that Edward was not about to bend, he muttered, “Let me speak to the dean.”
He retreated inside. Elissa was blinking up at him, her expression uncertain. “Edward?” she whispered.
“It will be all right,” he murmured, pressing her hand where it rested upon his arm.
The man reappeared with an older gentleman, also wearing black robes, in tow. “Lord Fauconbridge, my apologies, but it’s as Wickham here says. This is a hallowed space. No woman can pass through these doors.”
