Page 50 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
“I am not going to do anything untoward,” Edward ground out. “I merely want the opportunity to make Miss St. Cyr a proper proposal.”
He had a guess as to the reason for Elissa’s distress. He had just issued not a proposal so much as a declaration that they were going to wed, and he had done so only after they had been discovered together.
She probably thought he was only offering marriage out of a sense of duty. Once he explained that he had already decided he was going to propose, that he wanted her in his life approximately the same amount as he wanted oxygen, she would look at him the way she had five minutes ago.
At least, he hoped to God she would.
Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy crossed his arms. “I should like to know,” he said, “how one makes a ‘proper proposal’ without a chaperone’s permission, at two in the morning, inside a Greek folly, while you are both dressed in your underclothes.”
Edward had to admit that the man had a point.
Not that he had to like it. “Fine,” he bit out, standing and offering Elissa his arm.
Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy promptly did the same thing, and so they made their way back to the house three abreast, in awkward silence.
Once they reached the foot of the staircase that would take Elissa back to her room in the southwest wing, Edward drew Elissa aside. Ignoring Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy looming behind him, he took both of Elissa’s hands in his. “I’m so sorry, Elissa. I made a hash of things back there. That has to be the worst proposal that’s ever been made.”
If anything, she looked more miserable than before. “Oh, Edward, I—” But again she stopped herself, glancing over his shoulder at Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy.
“Don’t cry, darling,” he whispered. The words “I love you” rose to his lips, but he bit them back How he wanted to tell her, to banish the distress from her eyes. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to make such a declaration in front of Archibald Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy. “Everything is going to be all right. I promise.”
She swallowed thickly, then nodded.
“I’ll be in the library all morning, waiting for you. And I promise I’m going to give you the proposal you deserve.”
He kissed her knuckles then released her, and she fled up the stairs.
He scowled at Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy as he ascended the opposite staircase that led to his own room, even though the man had done nothing he wouldn’t have done himself.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on Archibald Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy.
He had a proposal to plan.
* * *
The following morning,Edward arrived in the library at six o’clock sharp. He didn’t expect Elissa to appear for hours, but there had been little point in remaining abed considering how little sleep he was getting.
A little after eight o’clock there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Edward called, springing to his feet and hurrying across the room.
But when the door opened, it proved to be Harrington.
Edward’s shoulders sagged, and his brother grinned. “Expecting someone else?”
“Perhaps. I certainly wasn’t expecting you at this hour.” Edward returned to his seat behind the desk. His eyes strayed back to the door.
“Don’t worry,” Harrington said, taking the chair opposite him. “I’ll make myself scarce if the lovely Miss St. Cyr should arrive. Wouldn’t want to interfere with your proposal.”
Edward’s head snapped back to his brother.
Harrington was grinning. “Oh, come on, Edward. I know you better than anyone. I’ve been expecting this all week.”
Edward settled his features into his best big brotherly glower. “If you suspected I would be proposing at this exact moment, then may I inquire as to what the hell you’re doing here?”
“I’m here to help.”
“God save me,” Edward muttered.
Harrington laughed. “Trust me, brother, this is one thing I can do for you that you cannot do for yourself.” He withdrew a stack of four tiny envelopes from his pocket and pushed them across the desk. “These are for you.”
