Page 31 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
“True. And I would not object, were there a woman in whom you held the slightest interest.”
Edward snorted. There was a woman who interested him, all right.
He just couldn’t have her.
“There are only so many ‘acceptable’ options, and I’ve already met them all. I may as well just go ahead and pick one.”
Graverley leaned forward. “There are new girls coming out every year. Including my sister, Diana. I think the two of you would suit.”
Edward paused, considering. He had never met Lady Diana. He was given to understand that after Graverley’s mother died, she had been sent to an obscure corner of Yorkshire to be brought up by a great aunt.
As the daughter of a duke, she was bound to meet his parents’ criteria. “How old is she again?”
“Eighteen.”
Edward shook his head. “Too young. Were she a few years older, I would consider it. But I mean to marry this year. In the coming weeks, if I can manage it.”
Graverley gave him a baleful look. “You do realize you’re dashing my plans to marry you off to Diana.”
“Since when have you been planning this?”
Graverley sighed. “Since about three minutes after I met you. No, it’s true,” he said, seeing Edward’s skeptical expression. “You’re the only man on the face of this earth who’s good enough formylittle sister.”
Edward leaned back in his chair. “Careful. That sounded almost like a compliment.”
“Indeed.” Graverley stood. “I dole one out once every decade or so.”
Edward snorted, then signaled a footman to show Graverley to his rooms. “We have you in the best room in the house.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Graverley called over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall.
CHAPTER12
Edward spent the next two hours busily employed.
First, it was Graverley, who came storming back into the parlor fifteen minutes after having departed. He slapped both hands on the desk in front of Edward. “I can hear the bassoon,” he said through gritted teeth.
Indeed, it did sound as if Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy and Miss Chenoweth had settled in to play a few duets. “Your room sits directly over the music room,” Edward confirmed.
“Then I will be needing a new room.”
“But that is the best room in the—”
“I do not care,” Graverley snapped. “If my ears are subject to that ghastly croaking sound, then it is demonstrablynotthe best room in the house.”
Edward shrugged. “Harding,” he called to the butler, who promptly appeared in the doorway. “Move Lord Graverley to the Etruscan room, will you?”
Harding bowed. “At once, my lord.”
This gave Edward something new to worry about between greeting guests, as moving Graverley to another room necessitated reshuffling the room assignments. He asked Harding to fetch his mother, as this was more her realm, but was informed that she was occupied. He did his best, but feared his mother, the perfect hostess, would find his choices lacking.
It was midafternoon and almost all of the guests had arrived when Harding appeared in the doorway. “Another carriage, my lord.”
“Thank you,” Edward replied, standing and straightening his coat. Outside, he was surprised to see the Astley carriage pulling up. Funny, he thought as he jogged down the short flight of steps leading to the drive, he hadn’t recalled that any guests were making use of the family carriage.
The door opened and out popped the bonneted head of Elissa St. Cyr. Edward completely missed the last two steps and went careening headlong into the drive, barely managing to keep his feet.
He felt his shoulder give a violent twitch. How could he have been so careless? Howhumiliating.
