Magic in the Stars (22 page)

Appalled at the sight of embers from the fire igniting
Azenor’s frilly hem, he leapt over Hog and a spaniel in his effort to reach the
far side of the room, while her aunt screeched and stamped her feet futilely
from the chair.

Horrified, all the adults froze in place. Or so it seemed to
Theo as animals and children raced past him in the wrong direction.

Apparently conscious but dazed, Azenor rose up on her elbows,
as yet unaware of the expanding fire. Dodging the goat, Theo shouted a warning
as she grabbed the arm of a chair to pull herself upright . . .
and her frilly blue skirt swirled, feeding the fire.

Spinning around to see what he shouted about, she shrieked.
All the ladies around her shrieked. Her aunt dumped the dregs of her tea on the
flames. Azenor attempted to rip off her hem, succeeding only in setting her
aunt’s knee robe on fire. The flames inched toward her stout aunt, who shoved
back her armchair to escape the encroaching conflagration.

Reaching the hearth, Theo caught Azenor’s waist and held her
still while he ruined his new pumps and fancy trousers stomping flames. More
ladies rushed to dump their tea on the last embers.

Aware that Pascoe and his brothers had grabbed crying toddlers
and shouting twins, Theo angrily dismissed the lot of them once he had the
flames out. Let the whole damned house come down on their heads. Let Duncan
crawl out of his cave to find out if they were being massacred. Theo had what
he wanted—shivering and shaking—in his arms, and he didn’t intend to let go
this time.

He’d even take the hysterics. He was done with hunting a
bride.

Azenor pounded his shoulders as he carried her and her
scorched skirts away from the fray and up the stairs. She wasn’t screaming
anymore, he noted with satisfaction. She was swearing and trying to beat him into
pulp. He could handle that better than weeping and vapors.

Let his damned brothers manage the guests and the dogs and
their own damned brats. He was learning that handling responsibility was all
about priorities, and right now, the lady was his.

She’d told him once that he was a man who acted first and
thought later. Theo was damned fine with that. He carried her into the upper
salon at the top of the stairs, slammed, and locked the door.

Then, while she struggled in his arms, he held her tight in
relief that she was safe—and with a desire that he no longer meant to control.
He kissed her beautiful soft lips until she quit beating him up, grabbed his
neck, and kissed him back—as if she really needed him as much as he did her.

Theo closed his eyes and absorbed the heavenly bliss of lush
curves and passionate lips. She smelled like apple pie and spice, and he wanted
to eat her up in lewd ways that would undoubtedly send her shrieking into the
sunset. But for just this one moment, he lost himself in pleasure and let the
thunderous chaos of his home fade away.

The beautiful, wondrous lady clung to his neck, making him
feel
necessary
, a notion he’d never
encountered. In joy and relief, he dropped her feet to the floor so he could crush
closer. She let him press her back against the door and explore her silky skin
with his kisses. And when he finally cupped the perfect curve of her breast,
she moaned and eagerly pushed into him, until his trouser placket threatened to
pop its buttons.

He had her burnt skirts rucked half way up her delightful
leg, revealing dainty lace garters and muddy stockings, when heavy fists resounded
against the door.

“What the devil is going on down there?” the marquess
roared.

That blind, lame Ashford had deigned to totter out of his
suite and traverse the entire corridor shocked both of them into parting.

The din of barking dogs, crying children, and shrill female
voices clamored in the distance. But it was the man pounding the door who
demanded their full attention.

Azenor’s big blue eyes were shining with pleasure—and
dimming with growing awareness. “How did he know where we are?” she whispered.

“It’s the only door not too warped to slam,” Theo said with
regret. He hadn’t realized it would finally drag Duncan out of his lair.

Theo wouldn’t let the lady shoulder any of the blame for his
appalling behavior. He caught her waist, and holding her possessively at his
side, opened the door.

Both of their stunned families and half the guests streamed
up the stairs, summoned by Duncan’s bellows.

Theo’s heart sank to his gut—until he remembered the rest of
his useless company was probably rushing for the front door and safety. Theo
glared at the slender female in purple shooting him with accusation, then at
his brothers and Pascoe, who appeared intrigued now that they knew the marquess
wasn’t in any danger.

“I am choosing a wife,” Theo told them with as much dignity
as he could summon considering his current disheveled and aroused state. “The
lot of you can go hang yourselves.” He slammed the door and locked it again.

This wasn’t how he’d planned marriage, but after today, word
of Ives anarchy would spread through half the kingdom. He’d tried the socially
acceptable method of choosing a wife. Now he’d try it his way.

Azenor yanked from his hold and hurried to put the length of
the salon between them. Not precisely the best start for his proposal.

She held her elbows as if she were about to fly to pieces.
“I
cannot
be your wife,” she asserted
angrily. “That is inviting disaster. Has this day taught you nothing? I thought
an Ives would be safe enough from me, but . . .”

“But you
care
too
much, correct?” Theo asked in triumph. “You only harm people you care about,
you said.” He swung his arm to indicate the cacophony of barking dogs, shouting
men, and crying children. “And this is how I live. This is not disaster, it’s
my
life
.”

“You are supposed to meet your soul mate!” She looked as if
she would weep.

He didn’t want her to cry, but he understood the desire. His
brothers were just outside the door, damning him, arguing with each other, and
generally doing what they always did, while the ladies slipped away and the
servants quit.

“Listen to them,” he continued, gesturing at the door. “Do
you really think you and your planets caused that? You want to blame my
family’s maladjusted behavior on your
existence
?
Because we’ve been like this since well before you were born. Unless you’re
insane enough to claim god-like powers, I will have to disagree with your
chart. Tell me you won’t marry me because you hate me and my family and want us
all to go to hell. I can understand that, but do not blame yourself for one
precious second.”

Her lips parted as if she’d reply, but he’d stopped the
little general’s words. Producing a linen square from her voluminous sleeve, she
sank into a gilded chair that tilted unevenly and wiped her eyes. Theo wanted
to go to her, but she hadn’t given him that right yet. He couldn’t press her.

The clamor outside the door was doing that for him. She was
well and truly compromised. He’d not left her a choice.

“Marry me,” he said. “If my family is doomed, at least I’ll
have the opportunity for a brief interlude of pure pleasure before I die.”

Aster stared at his lordship with wide-eyed incredulity. Her
heart was beating so fast, she thought she might actually faint. After weeks of
work and the utter
fiasco
 . . . then his
proposal on top of his kisses . . . How could she begin to
think?

No, impossible
!
was her first reaction to his proposal.

“If my charts are wrong, and I’m
not
the danger, then everything about my life is
wrong
,” she cried, ignoring more
pertinent problems pounding at the door. “I thought perhaps the asteroids
unduly influencing some of our behavior caused the differences I cannot see in
my charts, but they cannot change what
houses
we’re born in!”

She wanted back in Theo’s arms again. The world went away
when he held her. He’d bravely stomped out flames and ruined his beautiful
clothes and saved her from being Roast Stupid. She’d always been the Prophetess
of Doom who protected everyone else—but her pathetic cowardice longed for a strong
man like Theo who could provide courage when hers failed.

She wanted to be a normal woman who could kiss a man without
fear—a woman who could have a family.
And
she wasn’t.
No kiss could change the day she was born.

“The asteroids are chunks of rock and ice,” Lord Theo said
disdainfully, dropping to his knees at her feet and ripping off her charred flounce,
while unnecessarily holding her ankle. “They float between Mars and Jupiter and
have no effect on anything whatsoever. You may as well blame Saturn and Uranus
and the other planet we know is beyond them—if only our telescopes were
stronger.”

“Uranus?” she asked faintly, leaning over to watch him
remove the smelly frill. “What is Uranus?”

“A planet,” he said in irritation. “And there are
undoubtedly more of them we can’t see. Your charts are based on ancient
astronomy. It’s your instincts you need to heed. What do your
instincts
say about me?”

“There is another planet beyond Saturn?” she asked in utter
awe and a new kind of horror—one of changes so immense that she thought her
world might explode.

“Probably dozens. That’s irrelevant.”

Dozens? Irrelevant
?
Before she could scream her dismay, he continued.

“You predicted Duncan’s accident without
need
of Uranus or asteroids or moons. Perhaps
it’s
you
and not your charts that
matter. My mother predicted an angel would fall out of the sky meant just for
me, and you’re that angel. Would you dismiss my mother’s predictions?”

“You are funning me,” she said, withdrawing the foot from
which he was stripping a stocking. Too confused to argue about her charts when
her whole world was cracking open, she fell on the unrelated topic. “I’m hardly
an angel, although
falling from the sky
might explain the cloudbursts that follow us.”

“See?” He yanked off her other shoe and stocking. “Your
instincts figured out what I couldn’t. I was waiting for you to land on my
head.”

Was he actually agreeing that she might have an unusual
gift?

On the other side of the door, voices rumbled. Aster feared
they’d be removing the hinges shortly. Her family might not be loud and noisy,
but they were quietly practical—most of the time.

“Another planet changes
everything
!”
she protested, unwilling to submit without understanding—or escape Theo’s
soothing touch. He was rubbing her bare foot now, searching for damage. She’d
never known how erotic bare feet could be. She tingled in places that shouldn’t
be thought about.

She couldn’t think, and she desperately needed to think.

“Fine then, you’ll have an entire lifetime to change all
your charts. But right now, we’re going out there and telling them you’ve
accepted my suit so your sister and cousins don’t stab me while I sleep. Duncan
is
out of his cave
. Do you have any
idea how huge that is? We have to either rescue him or your guests. I’m asking
again—what do your instincts say about you and me?”

“But . . . my family,” she cried, “And yours!
I can’t endanger—”

He stood up, placed his hands on the chair arms, and leaned
over her, all but breathing fire and brimstone. “Us, my lady. Us, first. Tell
me about
us
.”

His broad chest with its silky scarf and pretty waistcoat
filled her vision. Beneath the clothes beat a heart that matched hers. Without
their clothes, without their responsibilities . . .

“Setting aside our disastrous families, our charts are
perfect for each other,” she whispered, revealing what she’d tried so hard to
conceal. “But they don’t include Uranus and asteroids.”

He drew her out of the chair and held her close again. She
didn’t fight him. She leaned against his strength. He was everything she’d ever
dreamed about—and this was all wrong. And so right.

How could she throw out a lifetime of beliefs?

How could she not?

“To hell with Uranus and asteroids. Marry me, my lady.” He
kissed her hair, and brow, and ear, and worked his way down her cheek while he
waited for her response.

“Aster,” she finally said. “You had best call me Aster if we
are to marry. My family would think it very odd otherwise.”

She couldn’t believe she’d said that. She needed to take it
back. But everything she knew had been spun on its head, and all she could do
was what
felt
right. And Lord Theo—with
his bookish tendencies and scientific mind and masculine ability to sweep her
off her feet—felt so very, very right.

He crowed his triumph and hugged her closer.

She tried to push away. “But only if you will introduce me
to the Astronomical Society. I cannot remain ignorant of current discoveries
for one moment longer.”

He stiffened. “You will not like them,” he warned. “Men of
science know that the planets do not revolve around the earth.”

Aster closed her eyes and let doubt sweep over her. No
matter how right his arms felt, no matter what sweet words he murmured in the
heat of the moment, she had to remember he didn’t believe in her or her charts
or abilities.

“I cannot marry a man who does not believe in me,” she
insisted. “That means you are not accepting my warnings and you are
unnecessarily risking your family.’

“You cannot go out there with anything less than a
betrothal,” he argued, pointing at the door where voices were growing louder.
“You’ve admitted your charts agree we will suit. Let me accept responsibility
for any further disaster.”

“You are the risk taker, not me!” she cried in horror. “I will
agree to a betrothal, no more, until we settle our differences. We could be
endangering the twins and all your brothers and—”