Shirley Kerr (22 page)

The excitement in his voice was contagious. She reached out, found the cold brass eyepiece with her hand, used it to guide the way so she didn’t poke her eye on it, and looked through the lens.

All she saw was a collection of white dots. Very similar to the spots of light visible with the unaided eye, if she raised her gaze to the night sky. Just larger, and a bit brighter. No discernible pattern.

The disappointment was almost a physical thing. “How very…nice.”

“Nice?” He sounded almost as disappointed as she felt.

“Exactly which of the white dots comprise the Messier object?”

There was a pause while he checked the aim of the scope. “In the very center. Do you see it now?”

She closed her left eye and looked through the eyepiece with her right eye. A cluster of white dots, in no discernible pattern. She tried looking with her left eye, and still detected no discernible pattern. “Perhaps I would recognize it if I had seen a better drawing.”

He located two more of the Messier objects, but still all Charlotte saw were white dots. She listened in on the excited, hushed conversations around her while he found
each object, and heard their enthusiasm as they shared the joy of each other’s discovery.

All of this excitement, over random white dots?

“All right, let’s try something simpler,” Alistair said. “Look up, directly overhead. See the white trail of stars that covers so much of the sky, like steam rising from a teapot?” He stood beside her, shoulder to shoulder. Well, her shoulder to his bicep.

“Via Lactea.” That was an easy one to remember. She’d been intrigued by the description of Sagittarius, the Archer, a constellation that resembled a teapot. Steam escaping from its spout poured across the sky, forming the Via Lactea.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pointed with his free hand, directing her gaze to the south. “Look just above the horizon and you’ll see Sagittarius. Can you make out the lid on the teapot?”

She had a sudden yearning for licorice. He’d apparently eaten a piece this evening, sometime after their waltz together.

Focusing on the sweet was better than thinking about the warm male scent of him now enveloping her, or the feel of his coiled strength pressed against her side, the way his fingers were slowly caressing her upper arm through the blanket.

He was still waiting for some kind of response to his question.

Right. Sky. She mentally drew lines between the indicated stars, and realized it truly did look like a child’s drawing of a teapot. “Yes, I see it.” She’d never taken the
time to notice that before. Maybe there was something to this hobby after all.

Alistair let go of her to swivel the telescope and aimed it at Sagittarius. “Just above and to the right of the teapot lid is M8, known as the Lagoon Nebula. At home in the Lake District, it gets dark enough at night that you can see it with the naked eye. London has too many gas lamps.”

Annoyed with herself for missing his warmth at her side, once more Charlotte bent to look through the telescope. She had no real hope of seeing anything of interest, and mostly made the attempt in order to placate Alistair.

Her breath caught. “I see something! It’s like a cloud.”

“Yes, a massive cloud of dust and gas. A nebula. Not a very romantic description for what you’re seeing, is it?”

“Accurate, though.” She studied the Lagoon through the telescope a moment longer, then straightened and tried to locate it with her naked eye. She stayed perfectly still, staring at the spot in space. There. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she thought she saw the tiny white blob that marked the nebula. Success! She looked through the telescope again to confirm.

She began to understand what the astronomers found so exciting about their hobby. To find such intriguing objects in the vastness of the night sky was like solving a puzzle, or knowing a secret that most people were oblivious to, even though it was right there, over their heads. “What other things can we look at?”

“There’s another Messier object, M20, about one degree north of the Lagoon.”

She started to step back to let him move the telescope, but he rested his hand between her shoulders. “You can find it. Just tilt the scope up a tiny bit.”

While she adjusted the instrument, she thought about the sextant Nick used for navigating. He had never let her touch it, never mind teach her how to use it. Steven, likewise, had been reluctant to let her use his spyglass. It was only after she won money in a card game and bought her own that he taught her some of the finer points of using one.

She’d known Alistair less than a week, and already he was willing to let her use his telescope. True, they were much more intimately acquainted then most people after a week—after years, for that matter.

She reached down to check that the bandage was still in place. There was still some soreness around the stitches he’d sewn so neatly, but tolerable as long as she didn’t have to sit down or otherwise have any contact on her posterior.

“Everything all right?” he whispered.

She ignored the shiver caused by his breath in her ear. “Fine. Just making sure the bandage is still in place.”

“And?”

“It is.”

“Good,” he murmured, and trailed his hand down her shoulder.

In some ways, she had been more intimate with Alistair than she had with anyone else. Ever. Or had ever planned to be. She hadn’t decided yet if that was a good thing.

He made it difficult to concentrate, resting one hand on hers to help her adjust the telescope, the other rubbing
slow circles between her shoulder blades. Thinking about the warmth of his hand, she moved the telescope too far, and saw nothing but random white dots again. But she refused to let him know he was distracting her. By alternating which eye she opened and closed, staring at the sky and then through the telescope, she started over again. She found the tip of the teapot lid, then over to the Lagoon, and then moved upward.

“It’s another nebula, only smaller.” She heard the pride in her voice, but didn’t care. She’d been able to find and recognize the Messier object all by herself.

“Yes, you’re right.” He was obviously pleased with her progress as well.

She didn’t seek or need his approval, but she couldn’t help a thread of warmth winding its way through her at the note in his voice. The warmth was definitely from his words, not from the way he kept touching her. Did he realize he was massaging her shoulder? Flush with her success in finding the last object, she was eager to locate others. “What else?”

“How about the Andromeda Nebula? It’s to the west, where Mars and the Pleiades are rising above the skyline.”

She stood up and turned in a full circle, trying to locate the constellation also known as the Seven Sisters, without Alistair’s assistance. She remembered one of the books showing them near Cassiopeia, which simply looked like a flattened
W
to her. She followed the bottom star in Cassiopeia, and soon had the Pleiades in the center of the eyepiece.

“The beauty of the Seven Sisters outshines Andromeda, so one can only see the nebula with the aid of a telescope.”

The staid scholar was speaking in poetic imagery? His voice was low and soft, near her ear. Any other man might use that tone of gravel-poured-through-honey for seduction, for reading a love poem, for issuing an invitation to his bed.

And he was touching her again. His hand ghosted across her nape, stirring the fine hairs. His bare fingers were stroking her exposed skin above the blanket, above her gown’s neckline. He’d removed his gloves, enabling her to feel every callus on the pads of each fingertip. Surely by now he felt the goose bumps he’d raised on her flesh.

Why was he doing this? If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was trying to seduce her.

Perhaps he was simply excited to have her share in something so important to him, a new convert to his hobby. The majority of their time together had been spent on her quest, the thing most important to her. For all the help he had given her, it seemed only fair to spend some time on his passionate interest.

She cleared her throat. “This one is shaped differently. It’s more like a flattened circle.”

“Mm-hmm. Andromeda has always been one of my favorites to study.” His fingertips were studying the back of her neck.

She stared at the sky without the aid of the telescope, noting the relative location of Andromeda to the Seven
Sisters and Mars, fighting the urge to sway against Alistair, to lean in against his hard body. A white flare streaked above them, cutting right below Mars. “A shooting star.” She couldn’t help the tinge of awe in her voice.

“The Perseid meteor showers ended a few weeks ago, but we should still see quite a few meteors, if we stay up here long enough.” Now his thumb and first two fingers were massaging opposite sides of her neck, close to the base of her skull. Knots of tension dissolved under his ministrations, but instead of feeling relaxed, a new kind of energy thrummed through her veins.

She forced her focus back on the sky. “Andromeda is nice. What’s next?”

“Some people have devoted their entire life to the study of Andromeda. Or at least an entire night.” His fingers dipped below the blanket, sliding down the slope toward her shoulder.

Her breathing hitched. “I’m not some people.”

“I’m well aware of that.” He paused, as though giving grave consideration to the selection of their next object, his fingers tapping on her shoulder. Not only could he not talk without using his hands, apparently they were required for thinking, too. “Have you ever seen a dolphin in the night sky? It’s over near the Summer Triangle formed by Deneb, Altair, and Vega.”

“Triangle? I should warn you, I was never very good at geometry.”

He lowered his voice even further, a low rumble beside her ear. “I’m saving the math lesson for later.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and turned her so they both faced west. He wasn’t just beside her now—he’d
turned at an angle, so her right arm was against his chest, his left leg behind her. She could lean to the side and rest her head in the hollow of his shoulder. If she wanted to do such a thing.

“See the brightest star, almost directly overhead?” His breath stirred the hair at her temples, raised gooseflesh in its wake.

He was the one who insisted on looking directly overhead—it wasn’t her fault if that required her to rest her head on him. There were a great many stars overhead, more random white dots. But one of them did outshine all its neighbors. “Yes.”

“That’s Vega, one of the brightest stars in the sky. Think of it as being at the two o’clock position on the face of a clock. Delphinus, the dolphin, is between seven and eight.”

She tried to follow the line of his pointing hand and not think about his hand on her shoulder, the heat from his body surrounding her, how his warm breath stirred the hair beside her ear. She wanted licorice.

“Do you see it yet? Some people think it looks more like a kite with a long tail.”

“Oh! It’s like a porpoise leaping out of the ocean.”

He gave her shoulders a squeeze, and didn’t let go. Their bodies touched, from shoulder to thigh. There wasn’t room for a slip of parchment between them. “That’s it.”

Miss Davidson and Sir Dorian had drifted over to Lord Grisham’s telescope, at least twenty feet away, the three engaged in an animated but still quiet discussion in their hunt for Messier objects.

Mr. Clarke and Mrs. Lumby were huddled around the other telescope, a dozen yards away, only the barest outline of their silhouettes visible. They could be doing anything.

She and Alistair could be doing anything.

It was difficult to focus on the tiny pinpoints of light overhead. Alistair’s hand had left her shoulder and drifted over and up until his fingers stroked the hair at her nape, sending shivers of delight up and down her spine. She wanted to take out all of the pins, shake her hair loose, and let him run his fingers through it. His long, elegant fingers. What a man could do with fingers like that…Did he want to run his fingers through all of her hair, too? She shifted, and accidentally bumped her hip against his thigh.

Oh my. He wanted to do more than stroke her hair.

They weren’t in a park, in daylight, and there were no children around.

Nobody could see them.

Off in the distance, Miss Davidson giggled.

Drat. Sound carried too well up here.

Obviously, Alistair knew that, and had gallantly been restraining himself. She should follow his example and do the same. Just because one wanted to do something didn’t mean one should give in to that desire. Even if it was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“Hungry?” Alistair whispered. “The footman should be up soon.”

“I want licorice,” she whispered back.

“Oh. My apologies. I should have saved you a piece.”

“I only want a taste.” She stretched up, reached her hand around the back of his head, and pulled him down for a kiss. His lips were warm, firm yet yielding, fitted perfectly to hers. And tasted divinely of Alistair and licorice. Tormenting him with a kiss was fitting retribution for what he’d been doing to her while making her see stars.

All too soon he pulled away. Before she could form a protest, he felt along her arm until he found her hand, twined his fingers with hers, and started walking. Not toward the rooftop door, not toward the refreshment table, but toward the far side of the roof. Where there were no lit lanterns. No people.

Trusting him to lead her in the darkness, she hurried along at his side, still clutching the blanket closed around her shoulders with her free hand. He squeezed her fingers and she squeezed back, butterflies of anticipation taking flight in her stomach.

Their kiss wasn’t over yet.

On one hand, she felt chagrined that he had outmaneuvered her so neatly. With his near-constant touches and caresses over the past hour or more, he had chased her until she caught him by initiating the kiss. On the other hand…

Something big and black loomed up ahead, which soon turned out to be a chimney stack, well over seven feet high, more than four feet across. Alistair didn’t stop until they had gone around to its far side, completely hiding them from view from the others, had anyone been able to see this far in the dark.