Page 22 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
Still, with each accumulating gallantry, her original plan to say nothing began to feel graceless. She could picture the shock on his face crystalizing into hurt when he walked through the door on the morning of the contest and saw her unexpectedly in the room. The image made her feel ashamed.
She knew she needed to saysomething.
Now she just needed to figure out what.
She blinked as she came out of her trance. They had obviously taken too long to find new partners, because Mr. Warner had appeared, genially announcing that the second dance was about to begin.
“I’ve asked Miss Elissa to dance,” declared Arnold Hyatt, the magistrate’s son, who had never shown her the slightest interest before.
Edward cast her a glance that looked almost mournful. He surrendered her to the younger Mr. Hyatt. “Miss Smith,” he said, extending his hand to one of the girls in the scrum surrounding him, “may I have the honor?”
Unsurprisingly, Miss Smith was delighted. As Arnold Hyatt led her away, Elissa could only hope she would get another chance to speak with him before the night was over.
* * *
Two hours later,Edward forced himself to unclench his fists.Again.
The problem was, Elissa was so very easy to spot, her red hair standing out like a mermaid in a school of brown trout. He was constantly spying her talking to someone else, strolling with someone else, or dancing with someone else.
When he wanted her to be talking tohim.
On six occasions he danced a single turn with her as he and his partner made their way down the row. It was pathetic that he had counted, but there it was.
Each time he had smiled at her, unable to think of something pithy to say in the five seconds he got of her company.
And now the dance was all but over, and she was on the far side of the room where he had no hope of reaching her.
He smothered a sigh as he prepared to ask one of the girls fluttering around him for the last dance. It didn’t really matter which one.
That was when he noticed that Elissa’s sister Cassandra had joined their ranks. If he couldn’t dance with Elissa, perhaps he could at least speak about her. “Mrs. Gorten,” he said, bowing, “might you be available for the final set?”
“I am, thank you, my lord,” she said. “Might we visit the refreshment table before the dance begins? How I would love a glass of punch.”
“Of course,” he said, offering his arm. “Please excuse us, ladies.”
They wove their way through the crowd. “I would ask what you were discussing with my brother,” he said, “but I suspect I would rather not know.”
She laughed. “It’s not as bad as you fear. I spent at least half the time peppering him with questions about your sister, Lady Morsley. I am her greatest admirer, you see.”
Edward smiled. There was some rather ferocious competition for the title of Anne’s greatest admirer. Anne had founded her own charity, the Ladies’ Society for the Relief of the Destitute, which supported hundreds of women and children upon whom most of society had turned their backs. She’d cemented her status as a champion of the wretched last year when she broke up a criminal ring that had been selling underaged boys into a life of misery as chimney sweeps, kicking in the door and shooting the ringleader herself.
“So, half of your discussion was about Anne. Dare I to ask what you and my brother discussed the rest of the time?”
“Mostly it consisted of a full rendition of your heroics in rescuing my sister.”
He groaned. “There will be no living with him now.”
“I rather suspect there never was.”
“You suppose correctly. Speaking of siblings, I have yet to greet your older sisters. They will think me shockingly discourteous.”
Cassandra gave him a wry smile. “I beg you not to trouble yourself on that account. Helen and Daphne have lived with our aunt in Chipping Campden these past two years, and are not here toni—oh, dear,” she said, stopping short.
“What is it?” Edward asked, concerned.
“Nothing serious, but I seem to have torn my hem.” Cassandra abruptly changed direction and began towing him through the crowd. “A thousand apologies, Lord Fauconbridge, but I will have to see to this right away, and—ah, good evening, Elissa.”
It was unbecoming, the speed with which Edward’s head whipped around. There she was, the girl he’d been longing for all night, standing close enough for him to touch.
