Page 53 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
But… this was slightly different. She had published a successful book, one he knew to be deserving of its brilliant reception. That did not reflect in any way onhim. Her book was not in competition with his own, and the fact that she had succeeded did not mean that he had failed.
Was he jealous of her? He probed his feelings. He—he didn’t think he was. The misery that welled up inside him whenever the thought of Robert Slocombe being named First Classical Medalist… it wasn’t there.
It might be different if his book had come out around the same time as hers. The reviewers might have compared them, expressed a preference for one over the other. One would have sold more copies than the other. Those thoughts made him feel a bit twitchy.
But that was never going to happen. He certainly wasn’t planning on publishing any more translations.
And, as his viscountess, neither would she.
He needed to answer her. “I wouldn’t say I’m upset. Surprised, perhaps? But also…” He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “I already knew you were brilliant. So I’m surprised, but also… not surprised. At the same time. If that makes sense?”
After all, the true issue was the upcoming contest, and the odds of him losing to her (and subsequently having an unworthy reaction, which she would witness, thereby ruining her good opinion of him) had not increased just because she was the anonymous translator.
Sure, he felt a familiar wave of nausea at the thought of competing against her. But it seemed that was a separate thing.
He chanced a glance at Elissa and saw that she was crying.
“I’m sorry, Edward,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you earlier. I wanted to, but I—I was so afraid—”
He shook himself. She was sobbing and here he was, rooted to the floor, doing nothing to comfort her. He rose and sat beside her on the sofa, taking her hand. “Why were you afraid, darling?”
She told him. She told him about her father’s heart troubles and about her cruel uncle who would cast them from their home. She told him how she had always felt responsible for saving her mother and sisters, because she was the one who had failed to be the boy her father had wanted, the boy who could have saved them all. She told him how no one had ever taken her seriously as a scholar, how she had been mocked and ignored on the days Edward wasn’t present in her father’s classroom, which didn’t come as much of a surprise. He’d seen the strange indifference the other students, and even her own father, had harbored toward her. And she told him about all the publishers who had rejected her manuscript as soon as they found out she was a woman.
“That’s why no one can find out.” She gave a sad sniff, and Edward handed her his own handkerchief, taking her soiled one and tossing it on the end table. “Not unless I win the contest, that is. My identity will come out eventually. I submitted my manuscript to enough publishers that one of them is bound to talk, and they’ll probably do it immediately before my next publication. To s-sabotage me. And I can tell you just what will happen next. The reviewers will mysteriously find that it did not move them in the same way my first book did. They will decide, in fact, that their original opinion is the one that is wrong. That I was never really that talented after all.” She glanced up at him, her eyes pleading. “Unless I can win the contest. If I’ve defeated all of the most talented scholars in England head-to-head, then maybe,maybethat will serve as my shield. That they won’t be able to dismiss me.”
“You probably have the right of it. There are a great many stupid people in this world.” He waited for her to finish dabbing her eyes and made sure she was looking at him before he continued. “But I hope you understand that I am not one of them. Ilovethe fact that you’re so clever. It’s one of my favorite things about you. The conversations we have, the way I can talk to you…” He shook his head. “Ineverthought I would find something like this. Someone like you.”
For some reason, this made her cry all the harder. “I should’ve known this would be your reaction. Most men cannot abide a woman who is as intelligent as them. But you’ve never been anything like those louts from my father’s classroom, and I should have trusted you from the start. I—Iloveyou, Edward,” she said, her voice breaking.
Hearing her say those words was like stepping from a cold, dank cellar into a sunny meadow awash with spring flowers. Edward felt his chest expand, his neck relax. “And I love you, Elissa,” he said, leaning down to give her a kiss.
It wasn’t as passionate as their kiss last night, as Elissa was still crying, although Edward fancied they were now happy tears. He settled back on the couch and wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her back while she cried on his shoulder.
The more he thought about it… this was actually a good thing. Because the fundamental reason Elissa wanted to enter the contest was so she could provide for her mother and sisters.
But that was no longer a concern. Once they were married, Edward would take care of her family. The financial factors that had motivated her had just disappeared. And besides, it was unseemly for members of the nobility to publish books for profit, so Elissa’s publishing career would have to end, regardless.
This meant that Elissa could drop out of the contest. She could drop out of the contest and Edward wouldn’t have to compete against her! She wouldn’t even need to go to Oxford. In the event that he lost (probably to Robert bloody Slocombe) she wouldn’t be there to witness whatever unworthy reaction he might have.
Suddenly Edward felt better than he had in weeks.
He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Don’t cry, darling. Everything is all right. It’s better than all right, in fact. I will obtain for us a bishop’s license so we can be married with all possible haste.”
She laughed, tossing his now-soiled handkerchief atop the one already on the end table, then gave him a watery smile. “There is nothing I would like better.”
He took her hands in both of his. “Perfect. I’ll go today to see about that license. And tomorrow, you can drop out of the contest.”
CHAPTER22
Elissa blinked at Edward.
“Drop out?” She shook her head, certain she must have misheard. “I can’t drop out. I’m the reason thereisa contest.”
He was smiling at her as if everything was normal and he hadn’t just suggested that she give up on her dreams. “There is no reason for you to participate now. You no longer need the five-hundred-pound prize, or a credential for your publishing career. I’ll take care of you and your family from now on. Come.” He stood and started toward the door. “The closest place to get a marriage license will be Gloucester. I’ll secure one straightaway. We should also send word to your parents and your older sisters.”
“Edward, wait. It’s not about the prize. It’s about proving myself against the most talented men in the country. Showing that I deserve be taken seriously, that my translation wasn’t a fluke.”
He glanced over his shoulder, surprise registering on his face. He backtracked to stand in front of her. “I know that, Elissa. I know you’re as talented as any man who will be in that room, myself included. As I said, it’s one of the things I love about you.”
