Page 83 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
“And praise heavens, he told me of a young lady who actually made Edward smile! A quality more important, I think, than a knack for planning parties.”
“Father will not agree,” Edward said quietly.
A smug smile stole across his mother’s face. “Leave him to me.”
“I appreciate your support, Mother. Truly, I do. But I must forewarn you that Elissa and I do not plan to be out in society in the way people might expect. She cares nothing about balls and routs and wishes to avoid the glare of theton’sscrutiny. We plan to take up residence at the dower house.”
“An excellent idea,” the countess said, “and one that will afford you some privacy in the early years of your marriage.”
“We might never go to London,” Edward emphasized.
“Really? I would have thought you would want to see the Greek and Roman sculptures at the British Museum, Miss St. Cyr.”
Elissa looked up at Edward, her eyes filled with longing. “I… I would, but—”
“And visit the Temple of the Muses, the largest bookstore in all of England.” The countess frowned as she peered across the green. “Is that Lord Barnsdale? Of all the tedious people to run into.”
“I would like to visit the Temple of the Muses,” Elissa said, lost in thought.
“Of course you would. Harrington, stand here so Lord Barnsdale won’t see me,” Lady Cheltenham said, positioning him on her left side. She turned to Elissa. “And I imagine you’d like to see a few of those classical plays you’re so fond of performed in London’s finest theatres.”
Elissa looked torn. “As much as I would enjoy those things, if I go to London, wouldn’t I also be expected to attend balls and host calling hours?”
“Calling hours—gracious no,” Lady Cheltenham said, peering around Harrington. “The last thing you want is a bunch of busybodies circling you like sharks, looking for any excuse to rip you to shreds. No, what you should host is a salon. You shall invite all the finest minds in London for stimulating intellectual conversation.”
Elissa’s mouth fell open. “A salon? I—I didn’t know I could do that.”
“Of course you can. There is no reason you have to do things exactly as everyone else does. You are not like everyone else. You are agenius.” She took a hasty step back, then made a sound of exasperation. “Oh, bother, Lord Barnsdale has spotted me. Well, there’s nothing for it—I’ll have to go and speak to him.” She pointed her fan at Edward. “If I’m not back in three minutes, you are to contrive an excuse to fetch me away.”
Elissa stared after his mother in astonishment, then shook her head. “A salon! It had never occurred to me, but… I think I could do that.” She bit her lip as she glanced up at Edward. “I would even enjoy it.”
Edward felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps Elissa wouldn’t be miserable in his world after all. “There’s no need to decide anything this afternoon. But maybe in a few months we could go to London, just for a week or two. Visit the bookshops and museums, and the theater. And you can decide what you would like to do from there.”
Elissa gave him a crooked smile. “I think that is a wonderful suggestion.”
Edward turned to check on his mother’s progress with Lord Barnsdale, but was distracted by his brother’s morose expression. “Harrington, don’t look so glum. You’re no worse off than you were this morning. At least you don’t owe the fifteen thousand.”
“You could’ve let me keep a thousand pounds,” Harrington muttered.
“A thousand pounds is a lot to spend on drink and cards,” Edward returned.
Harrington closed his eyes. “A lieutenant’s commission in the Rifles goes for four hundred and fifty. I’ll need a few hundred more to kit me out with uniforms, horses, and the like.” He opened his eyes, his gaze steady on Edward’s. “That’s the bulk of it. But I do think one good night out on the town with you and Thetford and Ferguson before I ship out isn’t too much to ask. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I would,” Edward said quickly. “This is your choice, then? The army?”
“It is. I’m tired of feeling like such a wastrel all the time. Probably I should’ve done this years ago. I’d be miserable as a vicar or a lawyer, and I’m too old to join the Navy. But the army…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I know I can do it. I even think I would be good at it.” He glanced at Edward, his eyes guarded, his jaw braced. Edward realized with a pang that Harrington expected him to respond with scorn, to parrot the family’s usual joke about how Harrington wasn’t capable of rising before noon.
Edward’s feelings about Harrington joining the army were mixed. Considering the French would be actively shooting at him, he would be in far more danger than he ever would have been in India.
But this was his brother’s choice. So Edward said, “You will be an outstanding officer. I am sure of it. You have every quality the army would seek. And I don’t mean merely that you’re such an excellent marksman, although you will be prized for that. It is your personal qualities that make you uniquely suited to the role. You’re the sort of man others naturally follow. The sort who will inspire them to give their best effort, to persevere when they would otherwise give up, so they can come out on the other side.” He clasped Harrington’s shoulder. “The Rifles will be lucky to have you.”
Harrington’s eyes were shiny. “Thank you, Edward.”
“Don’t give a second thought to the money. Father will cover the associated costs. I will make sure of it.”
Harrington nodded, seemingly unable to speak. Edward cleared his throat. “Well, then. Shall we rescue Mother and return to the Angel?”
A hesitant voice came from over Edward’s shoulder. “E-excuse me. Lord Fauconbridge?”
