“He’s the last of the bunch,” the man told her. “In fact, I’m about to close up shop.”
“What happens if no one buys him?” she asked, sensing her friends beginning to close in around her.
“I’ve a few others interested in him, for one or two of the acts,” he said. “They like having them around for the horse shows or the bear shows — adds a bit of life, you know?” He smiled, flashing what was likely a supposedly charming smile, though it actually caused Celeste to shiver.
“I—I’ll take him,” she said, looking within her skirts for her small reticule. Not finding it on the left side, she checked the right. Empty. She frantically searched again, but to no avail. It was gone.
She cursed under her breath, annoyed that she had been duped by a pickpocket — or maybe it had been taken at the fortune teller’s booth. She couldn’t be sure.
“What’s wrong?” Jemima asked.
“My reticule — it’s gone,” Celeste said dejectedly, then turned to ask her brother for money, but he was nowhere to be found.
Jemima held out a few notes. “Is this enough?” she asked, but the seller shook his head.
“Oh, come!” Celeste said desperately. “You cannot be wanting more than that!”
“You seem to want this pup,” the man said, assessing her as Celeste caught the puppy’s sad eyes once more. “So I can charge as I see fit, can I not?”
“But I simply do not have any more,” she said, to which he shrugged, apparently no longer interested in her business.
“Here,” Oliver said, walking forward, “I am sure I can cover it for you.”
“Oliver!” Lady Venetia said, stepping forward, for the first time showing some dismay in his dealings with Celeste. “You cannot buy a gift for another woman.”
“It’s not a gift,” he said, with a pointed look at his betrothed. “It is rather an advance on the payment I owe her as my employee.” He passed the notes to Celeste, fixing a meaningful look upon her. “You can do with them as you see fit.”
He stepped back as she took the money in her hand, knowing she should return it, and yet finding herself unable to do so. She passed it over to the seller, who grinned but made no move to accept the payment.
“Here,” she said, shaking the bills. “Take it or leave it.”
He took it, and the next thing Celeste knew, she was walking through the fair with a bundle of grateful fur in her arms — one that was licking her face as though he already knew the new life awaiting him.
“Thank you,” she said softly to Oliver when she didn’t think anyone else was looking. She had to blink back the wetness that filled her eyes. “Thank you very much.”
14
It had been a long day of waiting.
Yesterday, the return carriage ride after the day at the fair had been rather silent. Tension had filled the air, as Oliver and Venetia each seemed to understand that the emotions that should have been connecting the two of them were being shared with someone else by each of them. Alice had wisely kept her mouth shut, although Oliver hadn’t missed the curious glances she sent back and forth between them. Venetia had alighted with a vague farewell, and Oliver determined that they would have to have a serious discussion rather soon.
But first, he needed to speak with Celeste.
He had sent word to her that she should come later that evening instead of during the day. If they could find the right calculations, he’d like to have a look that night to see if they could find anything, and he would be able to work much faster with her recording as he searched.
He had received a note back in the affirmative, and he had meant to spend the rest of the day working.
As it turned out, however, he spent much of it pacing instead.
What was he going to say to Celeste? Could he say anything to her? What would Venetia’s family do if he broke his promise? He couldn’t be sure. But he also knew he couldn’t go on as he was currently. It wasn’t fair to anyone and made him the worst sort of blighter.
Finally, he heard a knock from afar and retook his seat as though he had been hard at work this entire time.
He sensed her presence before she entered, could smell her light scent of jasmine. But before he could look up and lock eyes with her, a ball of fur came flying at him, attaching itself to his leg in an effort to climb up.
“Hello, little guy,” he said, leaning down to pick up the multi-hued puppy. “How is your first day of freedom?”
“Exhausting,” Celeste said as she threw herself down in the chair across from him. “At least for me. He never seems to tire.”
Oliver laughed as he scratched the pup underneath his chin. “Have you ever had a puppy before?” He asked, not looking at her.
“No,” she said forlornly. “I have no regrets but I do wish I had known what I was getting myself into. I can tell you that my mother was not entirely pleased at first.”
“Understandable, I suppose,” he said. “You didn’t tell her I was the reason you bought the dog, did you?”
“No,” she said, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Nicholas did.”
“Of course,” he murmured, then frowned, looking around. “Where is your maid?”
“Visiting with your butler, I believe.”
“I see.”
Celeste shrugged. “She seemed to think the puppy would provide all the chaperoning necessary. I think she was glad to be out of his presence for a time.”
“Well,” Oliver said as the little dog curled up in his lap. “Are you ready to get to work?
“I must work for the dog, must I not?” she asked, arching an eyebrow, and he smirked.
“Very well. Show me what you have.”
The two of them focused on nothing but their work for the next hour, comparing calculations.
Celeste presented him with her theory.
“I began by assuming where this hypothetical planet would be, using the empirical Bode’s law,” she explained and he nodded, having done the same.
“That each planet should be twice as far from the sun as the one before it,” he said.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Then I calculated the path of George’s Star using the assumed position of this body — be it a planet or otherwise — and then I determined the difference between the calculated path, and what has been observed. I adjusted the characteristics based on those observations, repeating the process.”
“Similar to what I did as well,” he murmured. “We are close, if slightly off.”
He made a few final notes, then made to rise, nearly forgetting the dog sleeping soundly on his lap, apparently having finally tuckered himself out after a day of amusement.
Oliver looked up at Celeste with a grin, trying to tamp down the excitement rising through him at the thought that they could be close to finding what they were searching for.
“Shall we go looking?” he asked as they stood, and she nodded, his own anticipation reflecting back at him. “Very good. Hopefully this little one will stay put. What’s his name?”
She flushed slightly, scuffing her toe against the floor.
“Perseus.”
“Ah,” he said, inclining his head toward her. “A fine name. He needs an Andromeda.”
She chuckled lowly, shaking her head. “I’m not sure I can handle an Andromeda at the moment.”
“Fair enough,” he said as the puppy jumped off his lap and shook himself awake. “Did you bring a cloak?”
“I did.”
They walked out of the study to the back door, Oliver noting that his butler, Woodward, and Celeste’s maid were curiously absent. Not that he was going to complain. He was more than happy to have time alone with Celeste — even though he was aware it went against all wisdom.
Yet somehow the thought of the two of them being caught together was not entirely unwelcome. If it was determined that he had somehow compromised her… then so be it. Although when he thought of Venetia and her family, he grimaced. That would not be one conversation he wa
s interested in having.
“What’s wrong?” Celeste asked, apparently perceptive to his current thoughts.
“Nothing at all,” he said, forcing a smile as he whistled for Perseus to return to them, for he had gone bounding across the green the moment the door had been opened for him.
When the dog came prancing back to them, Oliver noted Celeste gaping at him, her mouth open in surprise.
“What?” he asked.
“I’ve been calling the dog back to me all day, and never once has he listened!” she said, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. “You call him once and he comes prancing back.”
Oliver shrugged, grinning at her. “I suppose I have that magnetic quality that brings him coming back.”
She gave a snort of derision and he laughed at her, enjoying her annoyance as they reached the telescope.
“Dogs like me,” he said with a shrug. “Now,” he opened his satchel as he placed the lantern down beside him. “We have the star map and our hypothesized calculation. We need to work quickly.”
“We do?”
He nodded, but then realized it was likely too dark for her to fully see him. “Others are getting close as well, Celeste. While I’m not so vain to absolutely need the recognition, wouldn’t it be amazing to be the first to make such a discovery? And just think — your name would be on it, the first woman to discover, or help discover, a planet.”
“You would really share the recognition with me?” she asked incredulously, and he scoffed.
“Of course. How could I not?”
“Well, because I am a woman. Most men wouldn’t consider my contribution worth anything but what I am to you — assistance.”
“No, Celeste,” he said, shaking his head. “If we do this, we would do it together.”
He cleared his throat when silence fell between them.
“Now,” he said, “let’s get set up.”
Celeste wasn’t as much help as she should have been, what with needing to wrangle the puppy as well as consulting the maps and charts and providing Oliver with the coordinates he needed.
She pondered his words on sharing the discovery with her, as well as the fact that others were close. Did he know that her brother was also hoping to do the same?
She took a breath, studying her hands for a moment. Despite the fact that she knew there was nothing else between them besides this professional relationship — and perhaps a friendship — she should tell him the truth of why she became his assistant. She was well aware of what would happen were he ever to find out otherwise. He would distrust her and wonder if everything else that had happened between then was a lie.
She took a breath.
“Oliver—”
“Celeste, I think I see it.”
“What?” she gasped, nearly pushing him aside in her eagerness to catch a glimpse for herself. “No, you didn’t. You couldn’t have.”
“But I think I did,” he said, stepping out of the way for her, his face filled with the same eagerness that was rising within her. “Look, Celeste. It almost looks like a star — in fact, I’m sure many have seen it before and assumed it was a star. I likely have myself. But with the right maps and our knowledge, it’s been right there in front of our eyes the entire time.”
She peered through the telescope herself, finding right in the middle of the viewfinder what could be a star, but on closer observation was a small, featureless bluish disc.
She leaped back, her breath coming quickly.
“You’re right. I think we did it, Oliver,” she said, hardly believing it before giving a holler of glee. “We did it!”
Oliver joined in her enthusiasm, giving a whoop as his arms came around her waist and he spun her around so quickly she nearly lost her breath.
She laughed as she looked up at him with joy, theirs gazes catching and Celeste nearly losing herself in the dark depths of his. She gasped, touching her throat as his eyes suddenly lost all brevity and glossed over with such intensity. He inclined his head for a moment and her heart stuttered, as before she even really knew what was happening, his lips crushed down upon hers in a kiss that seemed of equal parts desperation and celebration.
Perhaps it was excitement at finally discovering what he — they — had been searching for after so long.
Perhaps it was the fact that the two of them had done this together, and yet this was the extent of their connection to one another. This would hold them together, but there could be nothing more.
And perhaps some of it was also the fact that this should be forbidden. She shouldn’t be pressed up against him, their bodies flush against one another. She shouldn’t continue to crush her lips against his, to allow them to rove over one another in a tender love play.
No — she should be pushing him away, should be telling him to return to his betrothed, to leave her be. She should be returning to the house, finding her maid, who should never have left her alone, and then leaving this place, for good.
But Celeste wasn’t good enough to do that. She was too weak, the romantic side of her overwhelming her rational thought.
She pushed aside all that told her this was wrong and clung to him with the same fierce urgency that emanated from him. One of his arms wrapped strongly around her hips, the other hand spread out between her shoulder blades. She moved her fingers from his lapels to cup his face as she allowed his tongue to slip in between her lips, where it roved and tasted, sending tingles shuddering down her spine.
Celeste gave a whimper as she was suddenly aware of every inch of him pressed against her, from the hard planes of his chest to the… well, the length of him pushed against her where their hips met.
She trailed her fingers down his torso — over his jacket, down his abdomen, running over his hips until she wrapped her fingers around the top of his trousers.
“Celeste,” he groaned, finally breaking away from her and shaking his head.
“But—” she protested.
“Not here,” he said, his voice guttural, his breathing ragged. “For the love of… we are in the middle of a green, surrounded by houses.”
“But I—” A chill raced through her at his admonishment. “But you—”
“No, no, Celeste,” he said, shaking his head as he gripped her shoulders. “You did nothing wrong. I am chastising myself. I became far too caught up in the moment, I— My God, what was I thinking? Anyone could have seen us, and I—”
“You are engaged.”
“Yes.”
“To be married.”
“Yes.”
He took an audible breath, turning from her, lacing his hands behind his head as he arched his back, tilting his head up to look at the stars above.
Celeste didn’t know how long she stood there, waiting for him to turn around, to make up his mind about whatever it was that was causing him such contemplation, but her patience was finally rewarded when he turned around, allowing his arms to fling down against his sides.
“Celeste,” he said, his voice ragged. “I must call off my engagement.”
15
Celeste stared, wide-eyed. Had she properly heard him?
“You… of course you have to get married.”
“Perhaps—one day,” he said, walking toward her, excitement now seemingly growing upon him. “But that doesn’t have to be today — or the twentieth of October, to be exact. It should be when I choose — to the woman I choose.”
“You did not choose Lady Venetia?” Celeste asked, surprised, although in truth, why should she be shocked by such a thing? Most marriages in the ton were arranged by others. Why not Oliver’s?
“Somewhat,” he hedged. “Our parents were good friends, and there was always the possibility that the two of us would end up together. I pushed off marriage as long as I could, but now my sister has made her come out, and the timing seemed right. I told my mother to make a match for me and found Venetia amiable enough, so I proposed that we go ahead.”
“I see,” Celeste
mumbled, suddenly finding that her mouth was dry and she was unable to form any coherent words. It shouldn’t matter that Oliver seemed not to have any true feelings toward his intended. He was still engaged, whether or not he was particularly happy about the fact.
But somehow — she couldn’t exactly say how but it was there regardless — it seemed to make all the difference in the world.
“What… what are you proposing?” she finally said, her need to ask conquering the emotions that seemed to swell overtop of her.
He took the three steps toward her quickly, urgently, before taking her by the upper arms.
“Celeste, I—” his eyes ran over face. “I know that I shouldn’t be here with you. I know this is wrong. I am being the worst sort of man — the kind of man I would judge, the kind I would hate otherwise, hell, the kind of man I would fight in a duel if he ever did such a thing to my sister.”
He ran his hands through his hair.
“But I cannot seem to keep myself away from you.”
She nodded slightly, drawing her hands up to run them over his face, as though she was discovering it for the first time, which, in a sense, she was. Somehow his words seemed to have released something within her, something that had caused her to hesitate, to hold something back.
“I understand,” she whispered. “But, Oliver, what to do?”
He lifted his hands to cup her face in turn.
“I will have to tell Venetia that we can no longer be married.”
“But the scandal!” Celeste exclaimed, and Oliver shrugged, smiling sadly.
“There is nothing I can do about that, unfortunately,” he said. “But this is worse — to go behind her back, to be someone other than the man I am purported to be; to allow guilt to accompany any other feeling I may have when I am around you.”
Celeste looked down for a moment before steeling up her courage to ask her next question.
“Just what,” she finally muttered, “do you feel?”
Oliver chuckled lowly. “I feel… everything. I feel alive. I feel as though everything is right in the world. I feel… Celeste, I feel as though I have found my other half.”
Discovering the Baron (The Bluestocking Scandals Book 3) Page 10
