Page 19 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
Edward gave his brother a strange look. “Which one is who?”
“Oh, come off it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Harrington was scanning the crowd. “I’m talking about the fact that ever since you went to Bourton-on-the-Water, you’ve been staring forlornly out of windows, heaving heartfelt sighs into your soup, and scarcely attending to the world around you. All of which points to a woman. So, which one is she?”
Edward drew himself up to his full six feet, two inches, which was conveniently one inch taller than his brother. “You’re imagining things.”
“Aha—the redhead in the corner, unless I’m very much mistaken.”
Edward was torn between gaping at Harrington and whipping his head around. As he could do neither in public, he scanned the room, striving to keep his features disinterested. Surely enough, the redhead in the corner proved to be Elissa. “Could you be referring to Miss Elissa St. Cyr?”
“So you know her! I knew it was her. You’ve never been able to resist a redhead.”
Now Edward knew he was gaping at his brother. How did Harrington know that? He’d certainly never said as much.
“Miss St. Cyr,” Harrington mused. “That’d make her the daughter of your tutor.”
“Correct.”
“The very tutor you went to see last week.”
“Indeed,” Edward said, striving for a look of dispassion. “I actually asked after Miss Elissa when I called, having not seen her in ten years. But she was out.”
It actually happened to be true.
Although he might be omitting a few pertinent events that had occurred later on.
Harrington frowned. “Then you’re not interested in her?”
“Miss St. Cyr is a very nice girl from what I can recall, and I would never say anything against a lady. But…” Edward shrugged helplessly.
“Oh.” Harrington’s shoulders slumped, and he didn’t trouble to hide his disappointment. He turned back to Elissa, considering. “Well, in that case, you can introduce me. I’d quite like to dance the first set with her.”
Without thinking, Edward seized his brother around the wrist. “Don’t youdare,” he growled.
“I knew it! I knew it was her! She’s exactly what you like—”
“Will you shut up?” Edward muttered. “Someone’s approaching.”
It proved to be the local magistrate, Mr. Hyatt. Edward explained that they were attending on Lord Redditch’s behalf, and Mr. Hyatt presented his daughters. Edward made the minimum amount of conversation required, then moved precisely two feet closer to Elissa, at which point another gentleman appeared and presented his daughters.
This pattern repeated itself four times. Edward had scarcely made any progress toward Elissa. At this rate he would never reach her before the dancing began. But good manners demanded that he exchange a few pleasantries, so what was he to do?
It happened that his brother didn’t give a fig about good manners. Harrington grabbed Edward by the arm and began towing him through the crowd. “Beg pardon, my good sir… excuse me, coming through… need to get my brother to a chair, his rheumatism’s acting up again.”
“What?” Edward hissed. “I don’t haverheumatism.”
“Who cares? It’s working,” Harrington muttered. “Pardon us, make way—oh, now what do we have here?”
They had reached the corner where Elissa stood with her sister. A small circle formed around them, as absolutely everyone openly stared.
Edward cleared his throat. “Good evening, Miss Elissa.” She looked slightly terrified to be the center of attention. She wore a forest green dress in a practical woolen fabric with long, fitted sleeves. It was completely unadorned, without even a bit of ribbon—the mark of a girl who spent every penny of her pin money on books. Its waistline was a good three inches lower than what the ladies were wearing in London, but all Edward could think wasGod, she looked beautiful in it.
Harrington elbowed him in the ribs.
“And Mrs. Gorten,” Edward said, shaking himself from his stupor. “May I introduce my brother, Mr. Harrington Astley?”
