Page 36 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
“I’m sorry to be so much trouble, Roger.”
He bowed deeply. “’Tis no trouble at all.”
Elissa turned eagerly to her new treasure trove. She made some progress in getting things organized, but very little, owing to how often she began to read the books she picked up rather than shelving them. When Roger’s knock came at the door, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor before the bookcase, absorbed in a volume of Theocritus.
“Come in,” she called absentmindedly. She suddenly recalled that it was not proper to be sitting on the floor and turned to address the footman with a sheepish smile. “I’m afraid I haven’t made much progress, but—oh!”
Instead of Roger bearing the last of her books, three of the most stunning young women she had ever beheld glided into the room. Elissa scrambled to her feet, juggling the book she’d had in her lap and frantically straightening her skirts.
She curtseyed deeply, for there was no need to ask who these ladies were. All three had Edward’s otherworldly blue eyes. They had to be his sisters.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, hastily laying Theocritus on top of a stack. “Your brother was kind enough to take me to the library, and I fear I was a bit, er, over-eager.”
One of the blondes strolled over to inspect the piles of books. Elissa could not help but gape, because surely this woman was the Platonic form of the phrase “diamond of the first water.” She was tall and graceful with a perfect figure, perfect features… perfecteverything. Elissa knew nothing about London fashion, but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this was the woman who set it.
“Greek, Greek, Latin, Greek.” She rounded on Elissa. “Do you mean to tell me that this is your notion of a little light pleasure reading?”
Elissa felt herself flushing. “Er—yes?”
The blonde snapped open her fan as she turned to face her sisters. “This is the best news I have had in… La, I cannot even remember in how long!”
“She even has red hair!” squealed the other blonde, who looked a few years younger than her sister.
“I’m sorry, I—what?” Elissa said, baffled.
“Humph!” snorted the third girl, who bore less resemblance to her sisters. She was the female version of Edward, with glossy dark brown hair that made her blue eyes look startlingly intense. She was young, probably one of the twins, whom Elissa understood were eighteen, but already she carried herself with an unwavering confidence that Elissa knew she would never possess.
She strode over to the bookcase and wordlessly began scanning Elissa’s selections, removing three volumes from the stacks. She held them aloft. “These are also yours?”
Elissa peered at the titles. They were all novels, of the sort usually dismissed as “horrid.” “Yes. I—” She swallowed, steeling herself for their derision. “I have somehow never read theCastle of Wolfenbach.But everyone likes a Gothic novel.” She glanced around uncertainly. “Don’t they?”
The dark-haired girl turned to her sisters and nodded crisply. “She’ll do.”
“It’ssogood,” the younger blonde said, bouncing her way over to Elissa and clasping her hands. “I had nightmares for weeks after I read it, but in the best possible way. I’m Lucy, by the bye. It’s so lovely to meet you at last!”
Elissa smiled, charmed, if a bit bewildered, by this reception. “I am so pleased to meet you, Lady Lucy. I am Elissa St. Cyr.”
Lucy laughed. “Well of course you are! This is Isabella,” she said, nodding toward the dark-haired girl, who inclined her head regally. “Izzie and I are twins. And this is Caroline, properly known as Lady Thetford.”
“But you must call me Caro,” she said immediately. “All my friends do. And I can tell already that we are going to be the best of friends.”
“Anne will be here any minute,” Lucy continued. “She wanted to look in on your sister.”
From a few rooms over, Elissa heard a muffled knock, followed by the sound of her sister shrieking. “I would say she just did. That was a happy scream,” Elissa hastened to reassure them. “Cassandra is a great admirer of Lady Morsley.”
Lady Thetford smiled. “As are we all. Ah, here they are.”
Elissa watched as a stunned Cassandra was led through the door by a tall, gorgeous woman with brown hair, brown eyes, and a beatific smile. She was rather obviously pregnant but was one of those women who carried it beautifully, the type who made you understand why pregnant women were sometimes described as “glowing.”
“You must be Miss St. Cyr,” she said warmly. “I am Lady Morsley, but I hope you will call me Anne.”
“My lady,” Elissa said, curtseying. She found herself at a loss for words, surrounded by the four Astley sisters, each of whom was more stunning than the next. She felt rather like a mortal who had taken a wrong turn and somehow found themselves atop Mount Olympus, surrounded by the goddesses.
Meanwhile, here she was, of average height and average figure with freckles on her nose and unfashionable red hair. As kind as the Astley sisters were, it was hard not to feel intimidated.
“No doubt you’re wondering why we’ve invaded your room,” Lady Thetford said. There came another knock at the door. “That should be the reason right there.”
Three maids swept in, their arms overflowing with gowns. “Lay them out upon the bed,” Lady Thetford said. She circled Elissa, studying her. “We’ll start with the blue, the white, and then the yellow.”
