Magic in the Stars (19 page)

“Well, it certainly ought to be,” Azenor said tartly. “At
least you’ve given his poor wife time to pack her bags and leave. Although she
probably has nowhere to go. Forget agricultural bills. We need someone
proposing legislation that protects the weak and innocent.”

He snorted. “And I’m just the man for that. I’d have to take
one of Dunc’s pocket boroughs, and no matter how much I bribed the voters, I’d
still lose because I can’t say what people want to hear. I might have the
responsibilities of his position, but I lack the legal power or the finesse to
do anything. And it’s not as if I have any interest in harvests or tenants.”

“Did you just come in here to complain?” she asked. “Because
I can return complaint for complaint, if that’s all you need.”

“No, I need someone to
listen
.
I’m no good at thinking these things through on my own. Give me a good
mathematical challenge, and I can whip up an answer in instants. Ask me about
the gravitational pull of Mars, and I can offer an informative treatise. I can
most probably do so in Latin and Greek, if requested. But I cannot tell you how
many servants we employ or where my brothers spend their time.”

“That’s a lie.” Aster used her toe to let in more hot water.
The tub would soon overflow, or she would wrinkle into a prune, but shamefully,
she was rather enjoying this intimate interlude. Obviously, she was a wanton.
Her nipples were pearling up at just the sound of his voice.

“You knew where to look for the marquess when he was
injured,” she continued. “You knew where to go when you heard about the
rioters. You can’t expect to know where Jacques and Will spend their time if
they are only here occasionally. They’re grown men and you shouldn’t need to
track them.”

“And Hugh and Hartley?” he asked, sounding angrier. “They’re
just boys. Someone should know where they are. As you’ve said yourself, we’re
surrounded by danger. They shouldn’t be roaming alone.”

Aster sank deeper. “Don’t bring me into this. I live far
from my family for a reason. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to stay
away from Dee and Bree while knowing what a menace this household is to them?
Your nephews need a tutor or someone to watch over them. Dee and Bree are like
your brothers . . . adults. We cannot lock them in towers. That
never ends well.”

“We live with peril every day of our lives,” he said, still
sounding angry. The kitten scampered back into hiding. “You cannot simply
predict danger, then hide in a cave and pretend that will keep everyone safe.
Montfort would have driven the coach off the road whether or not you were in
it. Your sister and cousin could fall down wells if they were on the other end
of the world. You have nothing to do with their safety.”

“You cannot understand how our stars cross,” she said
impatiently. “I don’t intend to explain myself again. Now go so I may dress and
return to my room. This is totally improper.”

“Not if no one knows about it,” he argued. “We’re adults. We
make our own choices.”

Aster wished she had another sponge to fling. “And I’ve made
mine. Get out or I’ll leave in the morning.”

“If I make you hate me, will you stay?” he asked, pushing
his way back up the wall.

He didn’t give her time to answer that idiotic question. He
slipped out, leaving the room much colder than she liked.

***

Aster spent the night debating whether or not she should
leave Iveston Hall, but the next morning, she dressed and went down to
breakfast as if nothing had happened. She couldn’t even explain to herself why
she chose to stay, despite his lordship’s completely inappropriate behavior.

Or perhaps because of it—because she had felt his loneliness
in the same way she felt her own, ached with his need in the same way as her
own.

It was an impossible situation, so she turned her mind to
the tasks that had brought her here in the first place. Iveston Hall could hire
the servants she trained, and for the sake of their livelihoods, she stayed on.
Or so she told herself.

By the end of the first week, she had employed men to repair
the windows in the company rooms. William and Jacques returned with two
enormous blue-and-cream Axminster carpets that fit almost perfectly in the
withdrawing room. She hid some minor stains and damage in the wool with
furniture, then ordered simple cream muslin and blue taffeta for the windows.
The draperies were not as elegant as the heavy velvet, but on a summer’s day,
they would appear light and airy and prevent the rooms from being oppressive.

The new maids learned from the two housekeepers how to scrub
and wax the wooden floors and polish the elegant old furniture, some of it
obviously from Queen Anne’s time. Aster appreciated the gracious curved
elegance of that earlier period. Iveston Hall was a drastically different
environment from her exotic townhouse.

By keeping William and Jacques running back and forth to
London, she distanced them from Bree and Dee, who were cheerfully reading their
way through the enormous library in their spare time. Aster felt guilty for not
doing the same. As the Malcolm librarian, she really should be searching for
more old journals from her ancestors.

While her sister and cousin were occupied in the library,
she was reading Theo’s astronomical texts and pelting him with questions. She
avoided the bathing room at hours when he roamed the halls. Only, every time
she settled in the newly cleaned withdrawing room with a fire, a book, and her
charts, he tracked her down.

She didn’t precisely feel
safe
in the same room with him as he prowled the floor and expressed
his frustration about the battles he’d lost and won that day, but the space was
larger and less intimate than a bathing room. At least, she was dressed.

On this particular evening, she hit him with her major
concern the moment he entered. The lanky scientist was looking wonderfully
disheveled with his hair falling on his brow and his coat unbuttoned again, but
he listened when she asked, “These objects the Astronomical Society calls Ceres
and Pallas . . . are they planets?”

She had been nearly shaking in panic since she’d read the
treatise. Her charts were based on the teachings of the ancients and the
lessons from her ancestors. It had taken the better part of her life to update
them for each new birth in the family. She’d found Arabic scholars to help her
understand what she already knew, but she had only just begun to explore the
new world of astronomy.

Until now, she really hadn’t had access to scientific
discoveries. Those were a man’s world, and they did not share with women. She
had not understood how astronomy might affect astrology.

It had never occurred to her that telescopes might find new
planets! Such a discovery would throw her charts completely out of order. She’d
have to consult with experts beyond her acquaintance.

Everything she’d done could be
wrong
.

“Herschel calls them asteroids,” Lord Theo said with a
shrug, as if he didn’t discuss something momentous enough to destroy everything
she knew. “There is some argument that Ceres is large enough to be a planet.”

He took the pamphlet she waved at him to thumb through it to
refresh his memory. “Our calculations indicate there should be a planet between
Mars and Jupiter, but we’ve not found anything larger than Ceres.” He handed
back the pamphlet.

“Someday, I would like to see them through your telescope,”
she said, biting back a relieved sigh. She charted
large
heavenly bodies, not minor ones. So far. “I need to
understand if they might affect the pattern of the other planets. It’s very
unsettling knowing there might be more out there than we know about.”

“It’s
exciting
,”
he countered. “Just think of the possibilities! Someday man might sail from
planet to planet. There could be minerals out there that can cure disease! Once
the clouds clear, I’ll be happy to show you.”

Aster imagined standing in the dark salon with Lord Theo
behind her, holding her as he taught her to use the eyepiece . . .
A ripple of excitement warned that was the wrong path to take.

“So, the new steward is settling in?” she asked, hastily
changing the subject.

“With a wife, two daughters, and a grandson,” he said with a
sigh, pacing. “More responsibilities. They’ll need transportation to church on
Sundays. And they’re inquiring about schools.”

“But the marquess is speaking with him?” Aster set aside her
reading and admired his lordship’s prowling masculinity. She rather enjoyed the
pretense that she belonged here and might do something about schools and
church. She leaned over and stroked one of the brown-spotted spaniels lying at
her feet and wished for her cats. Nessie’s kittens were lovely but couldn’t be
trusted out of their room.

“Dunc sits like an emperor on his throne and interrogates
the poor man every evening, if that counts. But it’s an improvement.” Lord Theo
wheeled round to face her. “You’ve accomplished wonders in a week. Where did
these carpets come from?”

“I am not precisely certain,” she admitted, admiring the
thick wool rather than let him know she’d been watching him. “It seemed to
involve individuals named Froggy and Beans, and you are to thank William and
Jacques for their aid.”

“Repairing the windows in the library should be thanks
enough,” he grumbled, pausing to examine the newly sealed panes in here. “The
plumbing in the billiard room will require a new ceiling. You are the one who
inspired them to act on their own, so my heartfelt gratitude for that.”

“Your new wife may wish to completely redecorate,” she
warned. “I have only provided temporary solutions.”

He crossed the room and placed his hands on the chair arms
on either side of her, trapping her in her seat. “Marry me, and you can paint
the walls crimson, if you like.”

Taken aback—as much by his proximity as his demand—Aster
didn’t know how to respond. The delicious scent of his shaving soap had her
breathing too fast. Muscled arms so close to her breasts didn’t scare her so
much as excite her. And his lips, his lovely, sensual lips—

Covered hers without warning. Aster closed her eyes and
absorbed the bliss of heated,
personal
contact. Before she could shake free of the spell, Lord Theo groaned at her eager
response, grabbed her arms, and hauled her to her feet. His kiss did not break
for a moment, but deepened, until she thought she floated on air.

He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her tight against
hard masculine muscles. And appallingly, rather than push him away, she caught
his lapels and kissed him back, kissed him as if he were the last man on earth
and everything she desired. Her lips tingled and softened, and his curved to
take her in as if she were a luscious fruit.

Then he invaded her open mouth with his tongue in a carnal
demand that even she understood—and succumbed to. She couldn’t inhale enough of
his masculine scent, the rough brush of his whiskers, the hard arms holding
her. She wanted this so very badly . . .

He lowered his hand from her waist to her bottom, and she
nearly swooned from pleasure.
This
was
why women married.

And why she could not.

She struggled to stop. She needed to push away. But his
kiss—his kiss sent desire to parts she hadn’t known existed. She needed to
explore this amazing universe of sensation he opened to her. His hand cupped
her buttock and squeezed in acknowledgment of their shared path to knowledge.

The spaniel barked a warning.

Aster hastily shoved away. Theo reluctantly let her. A dark
blur raced across the new carpet—too small to be even the smallest puppy.

Behind the blur raced one of Great-Aunt Nessie’s kittens.
And the hound puppies. And Bree. And Jacques—all shouting and wielding nets and
various instruments of capture.

Aster grabbed the paper she’d been reading earlier.
Flustered and overheated, she pushed a straying curl from her eyes.

“No,” she said to herself as much as to Theo. “No, no, and
no. It is impossible.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she saw nothing resembling
resignation in his expression. But he swung on the anarchy, grabbed a net from
Jacques, and brought it down over his brother’s head in an immature fit of
frustration.

Jacques shouted and swung wildly at his brother.

Before two grown men could end up rolling on the floor in
fisticuffs, Aster bent and grabbed the kitten racing for her skirts. “Bree,
upstairs. Let Lord Theo chase the rats.”

Just like that, she’d remembered her place. What Lord Theo
wanted was not just a general for his undisciplined household. It had a great
deal to do with creating heirs—and she did not dare have children. Not until
the planets realigned or the universe exploded.

He had his soul mate waiting for him out there—and it
couldn’t be she.

Holding her head up so no one could see her tears, she
marched out, clutching the howling cat, leaving Lord Theo to the chaos of his home.

The day of the fete dawned cloudy—to suit Theo’s mood. Mr.
Browne, the new steward, arrived with a list of tenant complaints that began
with the wet weather ruining their cottage gardens.

Theo wondered what they expected him to do about the rain—build
glass houses? And then he began pondering the expansion of his small glass
manufactory to include sheets of glass that might protect plants from the
elements more cheaply than a conservatory.

He lost interest in the tenant complaints and began
calculating the type of glass needed and was deep into specifications when the
vicar and local squire arrived. To his irritation, they demanded that he attend
some fete event that Duncan had promised to officiate—back in the day when he
was still appearing in public.

“Perhaps you ought to ask Montfort to do that,” Theo
suggested maliciously, rubbing his brow to gather his scattered thoughts. He
didn’t
do
public occasions. He had no
ability to demonstrate bonhomie and slap people on the back.