Magic in the Stars (40 page)

“Your accommodating maids will do that,” Jacques said with a
shrug and a deprecating grin. “But your neighbors may feed me. I appreciate
being given run of the household but have no good way of paying you back.”

“You’ll owe us,” Theo said sternly. “We’ll collect someday.”

“Don’t go compromising my maids,” Aster said, equally
sternly. “I have a reputation to uphold for good servants. It is the only way
I’ll be able to staff the Hall.”

Jacques tilted his head with interest. “You both sound like
Duncan. Is this what family togetherness will bring us?”

Aster smiled and hugged him. “And this.” She kissed his
cheek. “And this.”

She indicated the party in her parlor. “And all this. With
wealth, comes responsibility.”

Jacques rubbed his cheek and nodded. “That’s a nice trade.
I’ll take it.” He held out his hand to shake Theo’s. “Find Duncan a wife just
like yours, and we’ll be shaped up in no time.”

“That’s Aster’s department. And I don’t think anyone but you
agrees that women are the answer,” Theo said, shaking on it. “Erran has his
nose out of joint over his inability to attract women without funds, William
has only one use for women, and you know Duncan can’t court anyone if he won’t
leave the damned house.”

“Love will find a way,” Aster said with assurance. “I’ll
have the servants clear the buffet. That should send your guests out the door,
so if there is anyone with whom you wish to speak, do so now.”

“Does that mean we can go upstairs soon?” Theo whispered
hopefully as Jacques hurried off.

“Soon, and I have a surprise for you, so be very polite to
our guests until we reach our bed,” she replied with mischief, before departing
to direct her army of servants and friends.

***

Remembering the night months ago when she’d rode into a
storm as the Prophetess of Doom, Aster almost wiggled with excitement as she
handed the heavy sheet of vellum to her beautifully naked husband. She hadn’t
been able to wait until they were in bed to present his wedding gift.

“I am now the Prophetess of Boons,” she declared happily. “Or
maybe the Prophetess of Good Fortune, what do you think?” Wearing a
whisper-thin night shift, she climbed into the small bed they would need to
replace to accommodate Theo’s large frame.

Eagerly, she studied her husband’s usually non-expressive
face as he read her father’s letter. His ambiguously blue-gray eyes lit with
inner fires, and his lips curved upward in a rare grin. He stared at the paper,
then at her, and back down again.

“Really? Your father won’t take this back if we must cut our
visit short or he disagrees with my politics?” He shook the letter in her
direction as if daring her to deny the contents.

Aster fluffed her pillows against the headboard and settled
back. She noted with gratitude that Theo’s attention instantly diverted from
the letter to her breasts. She had never been particularly grateful for her
plumpness until Theo landed in her life.

“My father has already transferred the funds,” she told him.
“He knows I won’t renege on my promise to journey north. My mother is
deliriously planning parties and dinners and probably slaughtering a fatted
calf. My siblings are no doubt bouncing off walls. You will have to endure
utter familial chaos for weeks. I think my father’s settlement is barely
payment enough for your suffering.” She grinned at his expression of dismay.

“For this . . .” Theo took a deep breath and
reverently lay the letter on the desk before climbing in beside her. He pressed
a fervent kiss against her brow. “I will be able to build the observatory
and
buy that small estate farm to put it
on. It has a farmhouse, and a clear view of the night sky. And I never thought
I’d earn enough to actually buy
land.
”

He sprawled across the sheets and dragged her on top of him.
Aster covered his jaw in kisses and began nibbling his ears as he stroked her,
his thoughts obviously still half in the stars.

“My father believes you’re taking me firmly in hand and
showing me it’s nonsense to stay away from my family.” She bit his ear a little
harder. “He approves. And really, I’m worth every penny of that dowry.”

Theo laughed and pulled her closer, now fully engaged. “You
are, and more. Half of it will go into a trust for you and any children, as
will the land. I can earn the rest. Duncan is paying me well to handle his
duties, and the telescopes will be selling soon. But I married you for your
real worth, not for your father’s wealth. You are more valuable than the crown
jewels. I cannot believe my good fortune.”

“Prophetess of Good Fortune it is, then,” she murmured as he
flipped her back to the mattress and began kissing all the places where she’d
sewn stars on her nightshift. “I do love an observant man,” she said with a
sigh of pleasure as he found one over her breast.

“And I do love a woman who brings the stars down to earth
just for me.” Theo raised up and covered her mouth with his, stealing the
breath from her lungs.

Magic in the Stars

The Unexpected Magic Series, Book 1

Patricia Rice

Copyright © 2016 Patricia Rice

ISBN: 978-1-61138-577-9

First Publication: Book View Café, March 29, 2016

Published by Rice Enterprises
Dana Point, CA

Cover design by Killion Group

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce
this book, or portion thereof, in any form.

This is a work of fiction. Any
references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used
fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the
product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or
locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Digital edition: 20160110vnm

www.bookviewcafe.com
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The World of Magic:

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Magic in the Stars

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Theory of Magic

The Magical Malcolms Series

Merely Magic

Must Be Magic

The Trouble With Magic

This Magic Moment

Much Ado About Magic

Magic Man

The California Malcolms
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The Lure of Song and Magic

Trouble with Air and Magic

The Risk of Love and Magic

Historical Romance:

The Rebellious Sons

Wicked Wyckerly

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Formidable Lord Quentin

The Regency Nobles Series

The Genuine Article

The Marquess

English Heiress

Irish Duchess

Mysteries
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Family Genius series

Evil Genius

Undercover Genius

Cyber Genius

Unexpected Magic, Book 2

Patricia Rice

Copyright © 2016 Patricia Rice

First Publication: Book View Cafe, May 2016

September 1830

Hunting for dry ground for his polished Wellingtons, Erran
didn’t see the mud ball flying out of the alley until it knocked his black
beaver hat into a puddle. His ten-year-old nephew Hartley Ives-Weldon ran to
rescue the expensive D’Orsay while Erran stalked into the mews in pursuit of
the miscreants.

Bloody hell
. These
days, he kept his daunting voice to himself, but that didn’t mean he didn’t
have fists to shake a few louts into next week. In the narrow mews, he caught
sight of the troublemakers taunting a slender woman striding through the rutted
mud. Realizing his hat hadn’t been their intended victim didn’t quell his
temper. More mud splattered the woman’s long black wool cloak and hood as she
marched toward the reprobates without flinching.

Abandoning his nephew, Erran ran after her, hoping to scare
the ruffians off with his greater size. He hated his delusions about his voice,
but he was taking no chances in a public venue. To this day, most of his
friends steered clear of him.

And once he’d come to his senses, the judge had banned him
from his courtroom.

“You will take your mud balls and run or the wrath of all
the gods will rain upon your unworthy heads.” The woman berated her mockers in mellifluous
accents that sounded more like song than curses.

The beauty of her voice almost made up for the damage to his
new hat.

The rain of rocks and mud balls abruptly ceased. Stunned,
Erran watched as the lads vanished into doorways and alleys—terrified by a
song?

Apparently unsurprised by their retreat, the woman opened a
service gate into the yard of one of the substantial houses lining the left
side of the alley. Erran strained to catch a better look at the producer of
such a marvelous sound, but she didn’t turn around. Instead, she slipped into
the yard beyond the gate and shut the panel firmly.

Realizing what gate she’d just used—Erran would have flung
his hat in a puddle again, if he’d been wearing it.

Bloody damn hell
—he’d
been trying to get into that house for a week. No one ever answered the door.
He’d thought no one was home.

“Miss!” he called over solid English oak topped by wrought
iron. He had learned to modulate his voice, but making it carry would require
shouting if she got too far away. “Miss, if I might speak with you!”

For a moment, the black cloak hesitated. A head turned, and
over the top of the gate, he caught a glimpse of an oval face tinted by the
rich hues of a tropical sun, long black lashes, and a frown. Then she hastened
her pace and vanished behind a hedge of greenery.

“Drat.” Erran rubbed at the soiled hat that Hartley handed
him, rattled the barred gate, and kicked an errant stone.

Not tall enough to see over the panel, Hartley tried to peer
between the cracks. “Why were they throwing rocks at her?”

“It’s a puzzlement,” Erran said, scowling at the damage to
his boots. “I’ve not seen so much as a ghost in the place all week. At least we
now know there are servants in there, even if they don’t answer the door.”

Even as he said that, Erran wasn’t convinced he hadn’t seen
a ghost. She had glided with the elegant grace of a lady, head high, steps
delicate, skirts swaying with expensive layers of petticoats. But no lady would
have brown skin, wear an ugly black cloak, or use the servants’ entrance. It
was
all
a puzzlement.

It was his own damned house he was trying to get into.

His whole accursed life had become a mystery, even to him.
He blamed his brother Theo for marrying a witch—although Lady Aster had merely
been a thorn in their collective sides at the time the courtroom incident had
happened.