Discovering the Baron (The Bluestocking Scandals Book 3)

by Ellie St. Clair

  “He didn’t,” she said, her words coming out just above a whisper.

  “Oh, he did. And now I know why you came to work for me — to finish off your hypothesis so that your brother could claim it as his own. It all makes sense now.”

  “Oliver, it wasn’t like that,” Celeste said desperately.

  “No? Then what was it like?”

  “I…it’s true that Nicholas wanted me to work for you to spy on you, but I never intended to share anything with him,” she tried to explain, the words rushing out as she willed him to believe her, for he continued to regard her with doubt.

  “But you took the job anyway?”

  “Yes,” she said, blinking back the tears that were beginning to burn against her eyelids, “because… well, I’ll be honest, at first because I wanted the opportunity to see your telescope. And I wanted the chance to work with you. To be close to you. Even though I knew it was wrong, for I knew you were betrothed, but I… I was being selfish. That is the greatest of my crimes. That, and not telling you of Nicholas’ scheme. But, Oliver, you must believe me, I never, ever told him anything. Not really.”

  “Not really?” he raised his eyebrows.

  “He knew that we were nearing a discovery of a planet, that much is true. I didn’t mean to tell him, but he somewhat goaded me into it. How he knew everything he did… he must have stolen it all from my things. It’s the only explanation. He understands enough to make sense of it.”

  She threw her hands up in the air, at a loss of what else she could say.

  “I’ll make things right, Oliver, on that front, I promise you that,” she continued. “As for what can be between the two of us…”

  “I do not see what there can be between two people when their entire relationship is based on a lie,” he said, his jaw clenched tightly, and Celeste’s heart instantly froze at his words. She was angry with him, yes, but until this moment she had wondered, deep in the recesses of her mind, whether there was still a chance for them, whether they could work it all out and make things right.

  But judging by the expression on his face, nothing would ever be right between them again.

  “You are correct,” she said, lifting her chin as she looked at him, “our relationship has been based on a lie. You were not a free man.”

  “Oh, come off it, Celeste,” he said and she could only stare at him, her heart breaking at his words.

  “Goodbye, Oliver,” she said, unable to bear his presence for another minute, for she knew if she stayed here, if she kept up this volley with him, she would no longer be able to hold the tears at bay, and she refused to cry in front of him.

  She stalked past him and out the door, her cheeks as heated as the rest of her as she passed Oliver’s surprised mother and sister. She couldn’t help but provide them the smallest of nods, before breaking into a run toward her carriage. She scrambled up the stairs without help, nearly slipping as she did so, and had just made it inside when she remembered Sophia. She groaned at the thought of returning to the house, but thankfully, her maid was soon rushing out of the building, joining her within.

  “Miss Keswick?” she said, her face wreathed in concern. “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice nearly breaking. “I really don’t.”

  Swallowing the giant lump in her throat, she closed her eyes as she willed the thoughts to keep themselves at bay. She needed a distraction. If she continued on like this, she would lose any semblance of composure, and she couldn’t — not until she was within the privacy of her own home. She turned her gaze onto Sophia. “Tell me about Woodward.”

  “Oh, miss, I shouldn’t,” Sophia said, though joy leaped into her eyes at the mention of his name.

  Celeste gave a small shrug with a smile. “Just tell me anything you’d like. Something to bring happiness to this carriage of gloom.”

  “Very well,” Sophia said, acquiescing, a smile blossoming over her face as she began to talk. “He is a good man… a very good man. And loyal. He has been in the baron’s employ for some time and he would do anything for him. He—oh, you likely do not want to speak of the baron. Very well. Woodward is kind. And thoughtful. I really do think, Miss Keswick, that there could be a future for us together.”

  “Well, Sophia,” Celeste said with a smile, “as much as I will never want to lose your services, I do hope all works out for you.”

  “Me too,” Sophia said, looking out the window as though she didn’t want Celeste to see just how truly happy she was. “Me too.”

  22

  Whenever Oliver was upset or distraught or ill-pleased about anything, there was one place that had always brought him solace — at least until now.

  Now, when he lay in the grass and looked up at the clouds overhead, they did nothing but remind him of one thing — one person.

  Celeste.

  Would he ever be able to return to his hobby — no, his passion — without being reminded of her? Had this been ruined for him too? He threw a hand over his eyes to block out the view, and when he finally lowered his hand once more, he nearly jumped into the air, for a face filled his visage instead of the night sky.

  “Alice!” he shouted, pushing himself up on his elbows as she leaned back slightly, providing him space to sit up. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve come for an explanation,” she said, crossing her arms over chest. “Do you really think that after all that you could just leave the house without a word?”

  “Well…” He rubbed his temple. “Yes, I can. I am the lord and the head of the family, am I not?”

  “I suppose,” Alice said with a dramatic sigh. “Now tell me what happened with Miss Keswick. I already know about Lady Venetia. Everyone in the house does, the way she was shouting at you.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Oliver said dejectedly. “I’ve lost my work, my passion, and the woman I care for. Does that sufficiently summarize everything?”

  “Well, some would say that a barony matters, as well as your family.”

  “I know I have been remiss when it comes to you and Mother,” he said dejectedly. Even in that, he had failed.

  “Well,” Alice droned, “at least you are not marrying the awful Venetia. I do not think I could stand one day in the same household as that viperous woman.”

  “Alice!” he exclaimed. “Why did you not say anything?”

  She shrugged. “No one asked me.”

  “That has never prevented you from sharing your opinions before.”

  “No,” she intoned. “But in this, it was too late. You were already betrothed. I will tell you, however,” she said, leaning closer to him, “I like Miss Keswick. And I think you should go after her now and apologize.”

  “Apologize!” Oliver balked. “I have nothing to apologize for.”

  “Well, with that attitude—”

  “No, Alice,” he said resolutely. “She destroyed my legacy. She lied, cheated, and stole from me.”

  All he said was true, as were the reasons things could never continue between them. Only, he hadn’t expanded on the truth. She had stolen from him, yes. His discovery, their drawings, his knowledge.

  But most importantly? She had stolen his heart.

  Celeste didn’t know who she was currently most angry with — Oliver, Nicholas, or herself.

  For the truth was, she had known, from the moment she had agreed to Nicholas’ ridiculous proposition, that this would come back and be all the worse for her. She should have told Oliver from the start why this entire situation had come about, but she had been too worried about what the outcome could be.

  Then he had done the same — kept a secret from her, one he should have been honest and up front about.

  And now look at them.

  She had already tried to make things right with Oliver, however, and had failed miserably. There was only one person she directed all of her anger toward — her brother.

  Celeste had been disappointed to find him out of the house when
she had returned home, and so she had to wait. And wait. The longer she waited for Nicholas to return, the angrier she became.

  The truth was, it was the only thing keeping her from completely breaking down, running up to her room, and weeping.

  Well, that, and the dog jumping around her feet, not in the least put off by the anger emanating from her.

  Celeste thought of all that was burning deep within her as she waited for her brother, until finally when she heard his tread in the corridor, she was nearly bursting with the need to explode all of it upon him, making him understand the force of her ire.

  “Nicholas!” she called out as she stepped into the hall. “I need to speak with you. Right. Now.”

  “Celeste, I do not have time for another one of your lectures,” he said, rolling his eyes as he brushed past her. “I know, I know, I’m not as responsible, not as good as you, on and on. Let’s just skip it and know that I am well aware of how you feel about me.”

  “Do you think it as easy as that?” she asked, her hands on her hips as she stalked after him into the library. “This is about far more than responsibility, Nicholas. You stole from me, from Oliver, and have made false claims. What you have done is despicable, and I fully expect you to go back and revise your petition.”

  Nicholas finally turned around, shocking Celeste by the grin he wore. “Ah, you heard about that, did you?”

  “Have you no shame?” she exclaimed, flapping her hands out at her sides. “And not only that, you were with his fiancée—”

  “Oh, come, Celeste,” he snorted. “You can hardly hold me accountable as though you yourself are innocent.”

  “That’s different.”

  “You can tell yourself that.”

  “All of that aside, Nicholas, how could you do it? Claim another’s work as your own? Do you feel no shame? No guilt?”

  “Celeste,” he said, though she saw a glimmer of unease pass over his eyes, “This was our plan from the start. You and I began the work, and then you went to work for Essex in order to find the answers we sought.”

  “You’re twisting everything, Nicholas,” she cried out, fisting her hands at her side, tears burning against the back of her eyes in frustration. “That isn’t it at all. What you did—what you truly did—was interest me in the work. Then I was the one who did all of the calculations. You arranged the job for me, yes, but I never had any intentions of providing you with information. You stole that yourself.”

  He waved a hand in the air. “Same thing.”

  “No, Nicholas,” she shook her head, her anger ebbing, despair filling her instead — sadness that her brother, who she had always loved in her own way, would stoop to such lowness, would trade it all for glory. “It’s not the same thing at all.”

  She turned and walked out of the room, finally allowing the tears to fall, with no idea of where she should turn now. Her brother had let her down, showing only the lowest side of him. Most importantly, she had lost Oliver. He had not only kept his own secrets, but he had believed the very worst of her.

  She wasn’t sure if she could ever get over that.

  “You were right.”

  “Celeste?” Jemima looked up from her table when Celeste walked into the room. “Celeste, is everything all right?”

  Celeste shook her head morosely. “No, not at all. Everything is wrong, Jemima. Everything.” She took a moment to observe Jemima’s work, spread out in front of her. “I’ve interrupted you. I’ll come back.”

  “No, don’t be ridiculous,” Jemima said, topping a few bottles and tidying her table. “Just let me clean up and then we will go talk this through. Should we go out to the green?”

  Celeste nodded, but the truth was, she didn’t really care where they went. By the time they sat down on a bench within the neighborhood green, she turned and took Jemima’s hands in hers. “I’m sorry, Jemima,” she said, dropping her head. “You were trying to look out for me this whole time, and the fact is, you were right from the beginning. I should have listened to you.”

  “I never wanted to be right,” Jemima said softly. “What happened, Celeste?”

  Celeste wasn’t sure where to begin, but at Jemima’s gentle probing, the whole story started pouring out, and pretty soon Jemima’s arm was around her and the tears were falling once more.

  “Oh, Celeste,” Jemima said, passing her a handkerchief, “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was of my own doing,” Celeste said forlornly. “I should have to suffer the consequences.”

  Jemima shook her head. “I may have been the one who was wrong,” she said, biting her lip, and Celeste looked up, peering at her.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “From the story you’ve told… it sounds as though, perhaps, Lord Essex does care. More than I would have thought.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “He worked with you, did he not?”

  “He did.”

  “And he was going to claim the discovery along with you, which is more than your brother ever did, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Besides that, it sounded as though his intentions toward you were true. It doesn’t seem as though he was particularly invested in Lady Venetia, and he never took things further with you when he certainly could have.”

  Celeste was silent for a moment, taking in all that Jemima told her. It was all true and, in fact, she had known it all, but had been too hurt, too stubborn to come to the truth herself.

  “It’s too late,” she said shaking her head.

  “But Celeste… do you love him?”

  “Do I love…” Her voice trailed off as she looked out in the distance. Her lower lip trembled. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I do.”

  “Then you have to fight for him.”

  Celeste looked up at her, shaking her head. “I can’t.”

  “You can,” Jemima insisted, shaking her hands. “You have to.”

  “But how?”

  “Well…” Jemima said, “that I’m not entirely sure of. But I suppose the only place to start is by making things right, is it not?”

  Celeste slowly nodded. “That, I can try to do.”

  Oliver took a seat in the front parlor of Boodle’s, rubbing a hand across his forehead. He’d had to get out of his house. His sister wouldn’t leave him alone, continually asking him if he was all right, if he was going to ever see Celeste again, and what it was that had caused such a rift between the two of them. His mother was quite beside herself over his broken engagement, though she had finally admitted she understood.

  He didn’t expect to accomplish anything by coming here — he just needed a moment to drink away his sorrows. He had never understood people who did such a thing, until he had felt the distress of Celeste’s departure.

  “Ah, look who it is!”

  Oliver closed his eyes, willing the man to go away. He didn’t have it within him to face him right now. But, it seemed, he didn’t have much of a choice.

  “Keswick,” he intoned as Celeste’s brother rounded the table.

  “Would you like to come join us?” he gestured to a table of gentlemen across the room. “I was just telling my colleagues all about what I have discovered.”

  “What you have discovered,” Oliver said with a snort. “I believe you mean that which your sister and I have discovered.”

  Keswick leaned in close. “Does it matter anymore?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it does,” Oliver said, turning to him. “The least you could have done was to give your sister some credit, especially when she was the one who did it all. Have you no shame?”

  “You sound just like her,” Keswick murmured.

  “What?”

  “My sister,” he said, a slight look of regret crossing his face. “I said you sound just like her — used the same words and everything. But, then again, you have been spending a fair amount of time together, so it stands to reason.”

  “Yes, a circumstance that you manufactu
red quite well, or so I hear,” Oliver said, taking a sip of his drink.

  “It’s too bad my sister has such a conscience,” Keswick said with a sigh. “She should be pleased that the Keswick name will forever be associated with such a discovery — it shouldn’t overly matter whether the name is hers or mine, now should it? She can rest easy with the knowledge that her work was accurate.”

  Oliver didn’t even bother to answer him, keeping his gaze straight ahead now. If he ignored Keswick long enough, would he leave him alone?

  He was not so lucky.

  “I must congratulate you on securing such a woman as your betrothed,” Keswick said, pulling out the chair beside Oliver and sitting down, crossing one leg over his other knee. “Lady Venetia is quite the stunning woman, and so charming too. Why, just the other night—”

  “If you are trying to provoke me, Keswick, I’m afraid you are going about it all the wrong way,” Oliver finally said, a bored tone in his voice. “Lady Venetia and I are no longer betrothed, so you may have all the fun with her that you would like.”

  “You… what?” Keswick said, his mouth opening slightly.

  “That’s right,” Oliver said, a satisfied smile now playing about his lips. “So if you compromise her now, you might actually have to marry her.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Wouldn’t that be something.”

  He downed the rest of his drink before pushing back his chair. “Good day, Keswick,” he said stepping back from the table, “and good riddance.”

  23

  Celeste swallowed hard as she stood in front of two of the world’s most renowned astronomers — of this time or any time before. They were the chairman and one of the board members of the Astronomical Society, and they were also two people who could actually put this mess to rights. At least, she hoped they could.

  “So you see, sirs,” she said, trying to fix a confident smile to her face, “this has been a misunderstanding. My brother had nothing to do with the discovery of the planet.”