Magic in the Stars (9 page)

Read Magic in the Stars Online

Authors: Patricia Rice

Tags: #romance, #paranormal psychics, #romantic comedy, #humor, #astrology, #astronomy, #aristocrat, #nobility

BOOK: Magic in the Stars
4.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

In addition, if she helped Lord Theo find a wife, that would
enhance her reputation as an astrologer. Surely a matchmaker would be a
valuable commodity? If only she could foresee what trouble she might cause in
less than a fortnight!

“I suppose arranging a house party at the last minute does
present complications,” Emilia said with a sigh. “This really is not one of
your saner expeditions.”

“I would fare better if more of us were of an age or
personality to be managing types, or at least available on short notice,” Aster
admitted. “Still, Bree and Dee and you will give us a good chance of capturing
Lord Theophilus’s interest. Or maybe . . . if we’re really good . . . Ashford’s.”

Emilia crinkled her nose. “I should think it would be too
soon if he’s suffering from his fiancée’s rejection as well as his injuries.
But I should like to have a look at his head. Phrenology has developed some
wonderful insights into the human mind.”

“You would make a marvelous marchioness,” Aster insisted,
burying her anxiety in favor of a positive outcome. “But if I am to do this, we
need to organize. I have two footmen, two trained maids, and three
almost-trained maids. If you’ll bring your housekeeper, we can call on your
mother’s collection of untrained women, and possibly have nearly a dozen warm
bodies at our disposal. If we’re only preparing for an afternoon tea, we don’t
need to tackle the upper chambers, just the company rooms.”

“You cannot expect me to organize a housekeeping crew!”
Emilia exclaimed. “I’ll send Mrs. Barnes, but you’re on your own until the day
of the fete.”

“Emilia, I need a chaperone! Maids aren’t enough.” Aster
tried not to shout her distress. “These are
Ives
!
The object is to enhance my reputation, not lose it, and I most certainly don’t
want to be trapped in a compromising situation requiring marriage. It would be
disastrous.”

So disastrous it could easily explain the conjunction of
Mars in both their charts on the part of peril! She shivered at just the
thought. No matter how much she enjoyed looking at Lord Theo, she wasn’t
crashing the heavens down on their heads for a set of manly shoulders.

“You should re-do your chart,” Emilia said stubbornly. “If
you are any kind of astrologer at all, your chart ought to say you’re perfect
for an Ives household.”

“Wait . . . right . . . here.” Aster marched off to her study, pulled out
the well-worn scroll, and marched back to the parlor. She spread the paper open
across the wall mural, tacking it with a hammer and small nails.

“There, right there.” She tapped one of the zodiac signs. “The
transiting planets in my chart are currently on the Part of
Peril
, coupled with
Private Enemies
, there is no mistaking the menace I present.”

Aster did not mention the part of desire and sexual
attraction in her ascendant. She feared that part almost as much as the others,
because desire could distract from her goal in staying away from relationships.
And Lord Theophilus was a very desirable man whose chart matched hers in
perilous
ways.

Emilia studied the chart with doubt. “It would help if I had
any idea what you were talking about. I’ll have to take your word for it. You
have been remarkably accurate in all your other predictions.”

Emilia politely did not mention the times Aster had ignored
her own predictions and disaster ensued, but it was uppermost in both their
minds. Aster never, ever wished to have a baby die in her arms again. She no
longer ignored her intuition. “Prophesying from the stars is my Malcolm gift. I
would have preferred being a healer like you.”

Emilia said wistfully, “I only wish you could perform real
magic and produce a match for me.”

“Perhaps if I knew more of the planets and their moons, I
could expand my understanding enough to find suitable people. I am working with
an Arabic student to translate the original Arabic texts explaining the zodiac
parts. I’m hoping there are errors in the translation, but her records are
centuries old. I have only just begun to explore recent scientific discoveries.
Information is extremely hard to find. Men like to keep it to themselves.” Aster
rolled up the scroll again.

“I’ll ask Deirdre to attend,” Emilia said, caving in to Aster’s
plan. “She is moping about the house since her fiancé went off to Africa to
look for gold. It would do her good to get out. But she is betrothed and not
one of his lordship’s candidates!”

Since her immediate family, except Briana, was in Scotland, Aster
had hoped that at least one of her cousins might join her in this project.
Briana and Deirdre would keep each other occupied, leaving Aster to manage all
else. “I would love to have Deirdre, thank you! But she’s younger than I am, as
is Briana. I still need a chaperone. Perhaps I should ask Great-Aunt Nessie to
meet us. She lives right down the road from Iveston.”

“It will do Nessie good to get away from all those heathen
nieces and nephews of hers,” Emilia agreed. “She can’t hear a thing, but she’s
respectable enough.”

“Good,” Aster said in relief as their plans fell into place.
“I’ve already had acceptances from half a dozen of my more practical friends to
the tea. Perhaps we’ll conquer all of Ashford’s brothers!”

“Mother has already informed me that they are a ramshackle
lot, but that matters little to me. You had best warn your other guests and
your maids, though.” Emilia picked up her parasol and sailed for the door. “I
am almost looking forward to the circus!”

After Emilia departed, Aster floundered between the pressing
need to train her aunt’s orphans and the wish to hide under the bed rather than
face the intimidatingly intelligent, annoying Lord Theophilus again. If anyone
could activate the part of desire and attraction in her chart, she greatly
feared it would be the astronomer who refused to believe her charts but was all
too happy to accept her domestic help.

***

Having spent another exhausting day talking to fusty old
men, bored landowners, and a few of Duncan’s political friends in search of
recommendations for the position of steward, Theo stopped outside a noisy
tavern and debated joining the din.

A ruffian stinking of ale staggered from the tavern, tripped
over his feet, and fell into Theo, clutching at Theo’s already wrinkled
waistcoat. Considering this old ploy the last and final insult of his London
sojourn, Theo bent back the bony fingers wrapped around his watch. The would-be
thief shrieked in pain and swayed backward, howling and releasing his prize.

Drinking himself into a stupor held promise. Doing so in the
company of strangers did not. He’d always had his brothers to watch his back,
in the days when they’d indulged in such revelry. He damned well missed Duncan
at times like this. Together, they would have dumped the thief in the Thames.

Disgruntled, Theo tucked his watch back in its pocket and
found his way back through the gas-lit dark to Pascoe’s house.

He needed an observatory. He needed a glass grinder that
would perfect the magnification of his new refractor.

He needed a bloody damned wife and steward and maybe a new
life in the Americas, he decided, upon finding Jacques sitting on their uncle’s
doorstep.

His half-brother leaped up with a beaming grin. “I knew
someone would show up eventually.”

“The footman wouldn’t let you in?” Theo pounded the knocker.

“He doesn’t know me, and Pascoe is apparently out
alley-catting.”

“That will teach you to come to town and socialize with
family more often so the servants recognize you,” Theo said dryly. As the
footman opened the door, he gestured to their unexpected company. “This is my
scoundrel brother, Jacques,” he told the servant. “It’s best not to let him in
unless we’re given warning but don’t leave him out in a blizzard.”

“I’m not likely to travel in a blizzard,” Jacques protested,
trailing Theo into the house. “Why shouldn’t I have entrance if you do?”

“Because it’s not my house. Tell stories to Pascoe’s demanding
offspring, and he will grant you entrance for life. What brings you here?”
Shrugging out of his confining frock coat, Theo hid his alarm at his brother’s
unexpected arrival and led the way upstairs. “Dunc is well?”

“Dunc is still moping and throwing fits and refusing to
leave his chambers. The field laborers have gone on strike for fewer hours and
more pay. Duncan says they may all go to hell. I’m thinking that’s not the best
solution.”

“You couldn’t send a note rather than abandon our churlish
brother to the servants?” Theo flung open a few doors until he found a bedchamber
that appeared ready for guests. “Do you even have baggage with you?”

“Only the things I carry in my saddlebag. I was planning on
riding back tonight except no one knew where to find you. What servant would
you suggest I send who could find you any better? I doubt any of them know
their way around London.”

“One of us really ought to try visiting more often,” Theo
acknowledged, “And it won’t be me. The city’s sooty murk hides the stars.
Where’s Erran?”

“In Brighton, looking for work. He’s been acting oddly since
he won that court case. I thought he’d be insufferable in triumph, but now he’s
considering giving up being a barrister. And William took his hounds to Oxford
for some reason or another.” Jacques dropped back against the bed and stared at
the ceiling. “Perhaps your astrologer should read all our charts. The household
is descending into more chaos than usual. The twins are home from school, and
the rest are expected at any minute. The housekeeper is drinking again.”

Theo refrained from exercising his considerable vocabulary,
knowing the havoc their various younger brothers, cousins, and Duncan’s twins
could cause. A jungle would be more peaceful. “I’ve found a temporary solution.
Lady Azenor has offered to bring a cadre of servants down to straighten up the
place in time for Margaret’s fete.”

Jacques sat up again. “Why? Does she have more death, doom,
and agony to inflict?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Theo tossed his coat over his
shoulder. “Maybe I should ask if she knows any farm laborers. She has a prodigious
list of people for all occasions.”

“That would be most exemplary!” Jacques unfastened his
cravat. “Every time we drive off another servant, we could just call on her to
provide another. Where has she been all our lives?”

Hiding from intimate relationships would be Theo’s guess.

Remembering the lady’s suggestion that he share some small
part of the mountain of tasks he faced, Theo asked, “You wouldn’t be interested
in interviewing stewards, would you? They’re scattered over half the
countryside, and if I need to return to Surrey to settle the strike, I can’t be
everywhere.”

“Have them come to Ashford,” Jacques suggested carelessly.
“I know nothing of farming but surely Dunc can manage an interview.”

“Perhaps.” Theo remained noncommittal. Dunc hadn’t been
amenable to seeing anyone but family since the accident, but there was always a
first time. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

But the thought of sending stewards to Iveston so he could return
to his work had Theo humming on his way to his room. If Dunc wouldn’t interview
them, maybe he’d have Lady Azenor look up a steward’s astrological chart. That
would be about as useful as an astronomer asking about crop production.

Eight

“We refuse to share the carriage with Mrs. Barnes,” Briana
hissed as Aster attempted to arrange the various occupants of the berlin and
the baggage wagon Lord Theo had provided. Briana re-tied the strings of her
bonnet over her fair curls. “She smells of camphor and vinegar. You
must
ride with us and leave her in the
wagon. Besides, if we became separated, who would introduce us at Iveston?”

“They are expecting us. It’s not as if you would be
stranded,” Aster retorted desperately. “You, of all people, ought to understand
the problem of my riding in the same carriage with you.”

“We can’t be more than a few hours from Iveston, and it’s a
beautiful clear summer day. Lightning won’t strike.” Deirdre added her
insistence. She wore a flirtatiously up-tilted hat brim that flaunted the thickness
of the mink-brown hair at her nape. “You must tell us all about the estate so
we are prepared. We won’t go unless you ride with us.”

“I was counting on the two of you to be
sensible
,” Aster wailed. “How will I explain to our mothers if
anything should happen to you?”

“You travel with us, or we’ll not go,” Briana said
adamantly. “Once we are there, we will attempt to leave the room when you enter
it, we promise.”

Aster glanced back at the wagon packed with servants
patiently awaiting orders to move out. She had three potential maids and two
footmen to train for service. They would be horrifically disappointed if they
couldn’t find positions. Her entire house of cards rode on this visit.

Recklessly disregarding potential catastrophe before they
even started invited the worst sorts of peril.

Lord Theophilus chose that moment of indecision to ride up
on a magnificent roan gelding. Today, the preoccupied scientist almost looked
the part of elegant aristocrat in his tailed coat and knee boots—except for his
unstarched neckcloth. His horse pranced restlessly as he lifted his tall hat in
greeting. “All ready to go?”

Without waiting for her reply, he waved the wagon on and
nodded at the carriage driver to assist Aster inside.

“I detest being bullied,” she protested, taking a seat as
his lordship rode up to give instructions to the coachman.

“He is not bullying. He is taking charge. That is what men
do.” Deirdre settled back against the seat cushion in satisfaction. Not quite
as tall as her sister Emilia, Deirdre had a softer, rounder face and a cherubic
smile which she employed now. “Thank you for inviting me on this adventure.
Town is much too dull this summer with everyone in mourning.”

Other books

The Professor and Other Writings by Terry Castle, Terry Castle
Atom by Steve Aylett
Hidden Falls by Newport, Olivia;
Phnom Penh Express by Johan Smits
The Planet Thieves by Dan Krokos
Do Cool Sh*t by Miki Agrawal
The Pagan's Prize by Miriam Minger
Mist Revealed by Nancy Corrigan
Perlmann's Silence by Pascal Mercier