Seeking Celeste (23 page)

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Authors: Hayley Ann Solomon

BOOK: Seeking Celeste
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Of course, the scamps were nowhere to be found. She edged her way past several of the dowagers and made her way across the cool marble floors toward the kitchens. Mrs. Tibbet could send the grooms down to the stables and keep a watchful eye on some of her jellies. Anne would not put it past the duo to be helping themselves to some of the desserts rather earlier than the guests.
She was startled when a dapper young gentleman in a double-breasted wool frock coat barred her way to the kitchens and demanded she hand him her card. Bewildered, she stammered a rather vague response. The gentleman looked at her closely, then chuckled. “If I knew no better, I would think no one had told you tonight that you are the very belle of the ball.”
“Beg pardon?”
“My love, look beyond you to that clever collection of mirrors. Can you not see the truth of what I immediately perceive? I am a veritable connoisseur, you know!”
Anne smiled suddenly, and her face lighted up so dramatically that the gentleman, for all his years of feminine experience, was almost overcome.
“Why, sir, I do believe you are flirting with me!”
“Really? Why, yes, quite possibly I am! But come, my dear, your name. Edgemere cannot be so grim as to withhold that all to himself.”
The smile dimmed. “It is of no consequence, sir. Please, I must get past.”
“But your card. I insist on signing my name to it.”
“I have no card.”
“Have none? By the zounds, now I
swear
I have heard everything. Come, we will go at once to the master of ceremonies and procure you one.”
In spite of herself, Anne laughed. “You speak as if we are in the pump rooms in Bath, sir! You
must
know there is no such person presiding, unless you call the
earl
some such thing!”
As if on cue, Edgemere interrupted her laughing reply. “Do I hear my name taken in vain? Cedric, you dog, depart from here at once. I have something very particular I have to say to Miss Derringer!”
Anne's heart missed a beat, for the earl was smiling at her so open-heartedly that she could not bring herself to believe he had just willfully thrown his entire life away.
The unknown stranger looked coolly amused. “So that is the way of it, is it? I must say, Edgemere, you play your cards deep. The whole world and his wife thought it was the cunning Caroline—”
“Stow it, Cedric!” Robert looked daggers at his oldest and dearest friend.
“Miss Derringer, the orchestra is striking up for the third waltz of the evening. Are you certain you do not wish to bestow the honour upon me? Robert is all very well, but he does not share our divine colouring. You note that I, too, have exquisite green eyes and hair as pitch as the night?”
“Doing it too rum, Cedric! Your locks are merely a very dark brown, and as for having the effrontery to compare your green to Anne's ...”
“Anne? Pretty name, that! Did you know Edgemere swears by Weston, but
I
—I use only Soames of Addington Place.”
Anne had no time to comment politely on the skill of his tailor, for with a broad smile and a decidedly impudent wink, he was off behind a pillar and out toward the supper room.
Anne's heart started to beat quite wildly, for Robert was regarding her with such a look of ill-suppressed passion that her knees threatened to fail her and she felt quite unwarrantedly faint.
“Not thinking of swooning, are you?”
“Good lord, do you think me so lily-livered as that? Certainly I shall not make such an appalling spectacle of myself in front of your guests!”
“Ah, but then I could quite unashamedly carry you up to your rooms!”
“Your thoughts need a new direction, Lord Robert.” In spite of the severity of her words, Anne's delectable lips curved upward in a telltale manner that caused an answering gleam in the hazel eyes that regarded her so closely.
“Shall I dance, do you think?”
“I believe that is customary at a ball, my lord.”
“Then, little Celeste, you will do me the honour.”
Twenty-two
Anne glided onto the floor as if in a dream. She did not understand a thing. Lady Caroline was nowhere to be seen, and certainly, there was no sign that any announcement had been made with regard to a betrothal.
The hard lines on Lord Edgemere's brow seemed to be lifted, and his manner was as lighthearted as the day she had first set eyes upon him in the meadow. What had caused this transformation?
She had no time to wonder, for he was guiding her skillfully across the floor, his arm securely about her waist and quite reprehensibly close, she was sorry to note. Or was she? She snuggled a little closer, daringly closing the gap to less than an inch, a circumstance that made his noble lordship the eighth Earl Edgemere smile more than a little as she felt an answering pressure about her shoulder.
“How is your wound, my lord?”
She had to look up to formulate the question and realized, a little late, just why the waltz was considered a trifle fast. Her lips were practically upon his as she tilted her head backward to speak. He would have grinned, but for the fact that his expansive chest was suddenly quite constricted and his breathing rather more shallow than normal.
“I believe, as I look down into those fathomless pools of tourmaline, that my wound is quite, quite healed.”
“I meant your
flesh
wound, sir.”
“Oh! I collect you meant my
heart
wound.”
“That, too.”
“I do excellently, my dear Miss Derringer, now that Sir Archibald Dalrymple has finally met his match.”
“Sir Archibald? I thought he was in bed with a lump the size of an egg.”
“You are behind times, Anne! The lump has receded to a mere bump of hardly any consequence. At all events, he is decidedly
out
of his bed, though I warrant that with the filly he has just bagged, that state of affairs will not last long.”
“You talk in riddles, Lord Edgemere! Improper ones, too!”
Robert laughed. “Shall I make you puzzle it out? It would serve you right for looking so damnably splendid when I cannot do a thing about it!”
“That has never stopped you before ...”
She saw his eyes grow dark and knew she had better stop her teasing.
“Good lord!”
“What is It?” Lord Edgemere had to pull himself up short to avoid stepping on her feet. Anne had stopped dead in her tracks.
“The children!”
“What about them?”
“They've escaped! They could be anywhere! I was just setting off to find them when I came upon the charming gentleman in the silverthreaded frock coat.”
“Charming? I shall cut his heart out. That is Lord Cedric Liverpool, by the way. The Marquis of Salisbury.”
Anne nodded. “I must fly! Heaven knows what mischief they are concocting.”
“Let them concoct! We are having our fun, why shouldn't they?”
“Because, my dear addlewitted sir, they could be in the stables, your cellar ...”
“My cellar? Call out the guards. Finish the dance, Anne, then kill them for me with my compliments. Tom is already in for a tongue-lashing over his handling of Dartford.”
“So long as it is merely a tongue-lashing.”
“He deserves a whipping, but I cannot bring myself to the sticking point when he very possibly saved my life!”
“And mine!” Anne could feel the heat pass between them in a delicious, unspoken, but highly intoxicating manner. The earl squeezed her waist in a shockingly rakish manner considering that all eyes were upon them, but Anne cared not a jot. Indeed, she sighed a little when he reluctantly released his grip.
“See, this delightful dance is ending, so I shall bid you farewell. Farewell, but not good night. We have a date, remember?”
“I remember.” Anne's smile was sunshine. “Not for the world would I miss using the Herschel two-inch telescope.”
“Baggage! I intend to make you forget star gazing.”
“Indeed? What a very strange notion, my lord! By the by, I take it you do not intend to become betrothed tonight.”
“My girl, you have a very sorry grasp of my intentions. That is
precisely
what I intend.”
“But not to Lady Caroline?”
“Not to Lady Caroline. Sadly, she has already been taken.”
Anne's eyes snapped open.
“Taken? By whom?”
“La, Miss Derringer! You are behind the times! To Dalrymple, of course!”
His tone was so innocently smug Anne had to put her pink satin fingers right over her mouth to smother a chortle. So! That was the deep game Lord Edgemere had been playing. How remiss she had been to ever doubt him.
“You shall tell me everything or I shall never speak to you again!”
“I am quite humbled by that threat! Very well, Miss Derringer, have it your way. And now, adieu, for I have promised both Ladies Elizabeth and Mary Bellafonte a dance each.”
“Then, they are both very fortunate! I have enjoyed myself immeasurably and only hope I am not punished for my indulgence.”
“How so?”
“Tom could be unhitching the coaches, Kitty could be harassing the cook, both could be playing havoc with chamber pots ...”
“Go!”
 
 
As it was, Tom and Kitty were being a great deal better behaved than Anne had given them credit for. Both were charmingly attired in ballroom wear from the attic—Tom looked particularly funny in skin-tight breeches that hung upon him several inches too long—and had secured for themselves a private spot away from the madding crowd but with a clear enough view of the proceedings. They had extracted several silver salvers from passing footmen who now scurried around anxious to retrieve them before the kitchen staff did their tallies. Anne eyed several delicious-looking salmon dishes, some sweet pastries delicately oozing fresh cream and cranberries, one or two platters of ham and stuffed quenelles and a small, rather restrained plate of fresh cheeses.
“Can you spare any of that? I am famished.”
“Miss Derringer!” The pair looked at each other guiltily. Anne ignored them and helped herself to a wedge of the salmon.
“Any lemon?”
“No, we tried to cadge some off Hastings, but he threatened to dob us in, so we've had to make do without.”
“Poor children. I shall inform Hastings that in the future you are to be served an unremitting supply of citrus wedges.”
Tom grinned happily as he threw his sister a cranberry.
“Told
you she was a good gun!”
 
 
Anne was first to creep into the earl's domain. The revelry was still going on downstairs—she could see faint hooded shapes in the garden—but she had no taste to return. She was content, at last, to sit and wait.
The strains of Purcell and Handel were almost audible as she opened the familiar door to the balcony and looked out. Lord Edgemere had been right. The storm clouds had long since vanished, leaving the sky as crisp and clear as a band of inky velvet set with diamonds.
It was cool, now, after the crush of the ballrooms. Anne shivered a little, for the ball gown was not sewn with star gazing in mind. Still, she could not help herself. The night was so tempting, and her heart had rarely rested this easy in all her four and twenty years. For the first time, as she stepped outside, she felt she had come home.
 
 
The earl bowed smoothly to Lady Inglebury and helped her with her shawls and confections of muffs and scarves. Nothing in his demeanor suggested that he was anxious to get rid of his guests or draw a close to his illustrious party. Only the Marquis of Salisbury eyed him with amused sympathy and even went so far as to help Mr. Mortimer and Miss Serena Mortimer call out their carriages. He was rewarded by an ironic twitch of the lips from Robert, who understood exactly what his illustrious friend was thinking.
At last, it was at an end. The earl thanked Mrs. Tibbet gravely and asked that all the staff be suitably thanked and rewarded. Cedric lingered a little, asking, with a faint curve to his lips, why the earl had not invited him upstairs for port.
“Oh, go take a long walk, Cedric!”
The marquis chuckled. “So that is the way of it, is it?”
“Yes. And if you dare say a single word about impropriety. . .”
“Who, I? That would be very much like the pot calling the kettle black. Besides, I never meddle in matters of the heart. Too damn dangerous!”
“Yes, well.” Lord Carmichael's sudden outburst abated as swiftly as it had descended upon him. He grinned. “Sorry if my temper is a little threadbare, my man. The evening has held its fair share of suspense. Then this appallingly long schedule of dances ...”
“No more than usual, my dear Robert ...”
“Oh, take that silly grin off your face! You are welcome to my port, but you shall have to, I am afraid, drink it alone. I am certain Augustus shall see to your needs handsomely.”
“Then, I am well satisfied, for I have quite a fancy for the cherry brandy you laid down.”
“Good! I make you a present of it. And now, I am off!” So saying, his lordship drew his gloves from the table, alternately snatched at his hat and his cane, discarded them both and marched from the room.
It was left to the Marquis of Salisbury to regard him thoughtfully, though his eyes were brimful of silent laughter. The great Edgemere, then, had finally fallen.
 
 
“Anne. It seems I have waited an age for this.”
“I, too.”
“I hope you mean
me
and not my telescope!”
“Now, let me see ... is it a choice or may I have both?”
“Baggage! Come here and let me kiss you senseless.”
“Very tempting, my lord, but I am afraid I shall have to decline.”
“What?”
His lordship's tone was incredulous.
“There is something I wish you to see. The sky is so clear it cannot just be my imagination. I believe, to the north, I can detect a comet. It has not previously been charted.”
The earl looked into her dear, shining, green-dark eyes and was defeated. Her excitement was so palpable it was infectious. Besides, they had their whole lives to indulge in the sort of activity he might have preferred at that precise moment.
“Oh, very well, the telescope wins. Have you handled one before?”
“Never, but I know the theory.”
“Good! Then, you shall align it, for I have far better things to look at at this moment.”
“Better ... ?” Anne took in the direction of his gaze and blushed.
“Pay attention, sir!”
“I
am,
Miss Derringer! Here is the key.”
He watched as she carefully removed the instrument from his cabinet and laboured to set it outside. Then she seemed to do a series of extraordinary things with it—he was too distracted to note precisely what—and she handed him back the key.
The earl pocketed it absently before nonchalantly framing the words that had been on his mind all evening. “By the by, you
will
marry me, I take it?”
“Oh, of course.”
“Excellent, I am glad
that
is settled. Tell me when I can take a peek.”
“Now, if you like. There seems to be a tail of gas just short of the constellation.”
The earl stepped forward and took a long look. When he had finished, he looked at Anne with amused respect that bordered, rather incongruously, on awe. “Set down the coordinates, Anne. I do believe the Royal Astronomical Society might be interested in this. If it is a discovery, it shall be named after you. Comet Derringer. It has an interesting ring to it.”
“No! I will be labeled a bluestocking forever more. I've had my fill of that.
You
shall get the credit, for it was your telescope that confirmed it. It shall be called Comet Carmichael.”
“Comet Celeste?”
Anne shook her head. She was determined. The earl adored the stubborn tilt of her chin. So very like his own. Then his eyes gleamed. He wanted to finish with the matter of the comet, for morning was approaching and soon he would, for decorum's sake, have to pack Anne off to her chambers.
“You
did
say you would wed me?”
“I did, my lord.”
“Then, I shall get a special license tomorrow, for this comet needs a name.”

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