Page 56 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
“—I wouldn’t want to burden you—”
“—I didn’t mean to burden you—”
Burden.
Burden.
Burden.
She could hear the note of desperation in her own voice as she said, “You do know how wonderful you are, Edward, both as a scholar and a person. Don’t you?” He still wouldn’t look at her, so she grabbed his arm with both hands. “Don’t you?”
He jerked away from her. For a fraction of a second, his eyes met hers before he looked down, and the humiliated sadness she saw in them broke her heart.
He stalked across the room and opened the library door. He did not look at her as he held it open expectantly.
She crossed to stand beside him but didn’t go through the door. “No. We need to discuss this.”
His gaze was fixed on the far wall. “There is nothing to discuss.”
“There is. This is important.”
He swallowed thickly, a muscle working in his jaw. “You still mean to enter the contest?”
“Y-yes. I do.”
“Then we are at an impasse.”
“We’re not. We can get past this. I know we can. If you would just—”
“I would like for you to leave.” He enunciated each word, as if he wanted there to be no possibility she would fail to understand. He made a sweeping gesture toward the door.
Numb, Elissa stepped into the hall. “Edward, wait. Don’t do this. Don’t—”
“I wish you good fortune in the contest, Miss St. Cyr.”
She couldn’t see anything through her tears, but she heard the click of the door.
CHAPTER23
After he was sure Elissa was gone, Edward stormed from the library, past the footman stationed outside the door (who no doubt had heard everything), and went straight to the stables.
He could not believe he had slipped in such a manner. Here he’d been so worried that an unguarded look or a careless word would cause Elissa to guess at his inner troubles. Well, there was no need for her to guess, as he’d gone and shouted them at her!
He couldn’t face her now. He absolutely couldn’t. He had never toldanyonehow devastated he’d been to lose the Chancellor’s Classical Medal. He was always so careful to maintain a strong front. But even worse, Elissa had immediately perceived how deep his feelings of worthlessness truly went.You do know how wonderful you are, Edward, both as a scholar and a person. Don’t you?
She had said it out of kindness. Or possibly out of pity, a thought so horrible it caused the gorge to rise in his throat. But no one really wanted to hear about his sorrows, to be burdened with his problems.
He spent the rest of the morning and the better part of the afternoon pounding out his bitterness on horseback. Even a challenging cross-country route with plentiful jumps wasn’t distracting enough to drown out the voices in his head, which were bent upon replaying the scene in the library over and over. Still, it was better than being completely at loose ends, and at least out here there was no one to witness his misery.
But by early afternoon, Edward became cognizant that even a horse like Bucephalus couldn’t go indefinitely. There was also the fact that he hadn’t informed anyone of his plans to stay out all day. He was fortunate someone had strapped a canteen to his saddle, but he had no food, and his growling stomach was doing nothing to improve his mood. And so he reluctantly pointed Bucephalus back toward the house.
As he rounded a bend and the stables came into sight, he saw a rider approaching at full gallop. He hastily reined Bucephalus in.
It proved to be Harrington. “Where the devil have you been?” he snapped as he brought his bay gelding to a halt in the middle of the road.
Edward was in no mood to put up with whatever temper his brother was in. “And good afternoon to you, too.”
“Don’t you give me that sanctimonious nonsense. This is no time for niceties. We’ve got a crisis on our hands!”
