A Hint of Starlight

by Connolly, Lynne

  Wheels rolled as he slid on a similar chair to the one she was using to rest beside her. He caught the arm of her chair to steady himself. “Indeed. Describe it.”

  In a hushed voice, she did. She described the stars, their approximate distance from the earth and each other, only pausing to say, “Are the lenses achromatic?”

  “They are.” He didn’t interrupt her as she continued. This marvelous telescope must have cost a fortune. The lenses alone were valuable, but the way the instrument was balanced, and the fact that it was a reflective telescope and not a refractive one indicated a great price.

  “Is this Blackridge’s instrument?” Everything about the gleaming telescope indicated a great maker.

  He chuckled. “He would not know one end of a telescope from the other. Nor would he care greatly. No, this is mine. I brought it down to London with me to make my stay here a little less torturous.”

  Damaris tore her attention away from the stars to gaze at him, wide eyed.

  He caught his breath. They were sitting so close to one another she clearly saw the parted lips, and the way his sudden breath expanded his chest. “Tell me more,” he said hurriedly.

  “You already know most of it.” She’d read his monographs.

  “This is not an evening for study,” he reminded her, “though I would love to share such work with you. Let’s just enjoy the skies tonight.”

  So they did.

  Damaris trusted him enough to tell him a little of her work on the transit of Venus. At one point, he reached forward and touched her lips. “No more. Your confidences flatter me, but I do not wish to take advantage of your work. However, I can tell you that I’ve been working along the same lines. Consider, if you will, a collaborative study. You would honor me.”

  Heat rose up her neck, a telltale sign that she was blushing. “I–I don’t know what to say. I’ve been working on my own for so long…” That touch, slight though it had been, unnerved her. He’d made her lips tingle from that one, tiny contact. She moved away. “You should take your turn.”

  “No, you stay.” Again he touched her, a slight nudge to her upper arm, that was all. “I can use the telescope any time. Let’s not talk about Venus any further, until we have decided on our plan of action.” A smile touched his eyes and lips. “Let’s discuss another of the planets. Mars, perhaps.”

  She was only too glad to turn her attention to another planet, one which wasn’t the subject of a febrile race to knowledge and riches.

  There was no clock up here to disturb them, but the movement of the moon, a mere sliver in the sky, told her they had been here for hours.

  She changed position and winced, her hands going reflexively to her back.

  With a huffed laugh, he said, “I recognize that action. We should not stay much longer, or we’ll scandalize the servants.”

  Reluctantly, she nodded. She could stay here for weeks, and a telescope as lovely as this would help her studies exponentially.

  She got to her feet. He closed his eyes and groaned. “I have tried to behave, I swear. But Damaris, I want to kiss you. Say no and I will keep my hands to myself, I swear.”

  How could she refuse him when he had the same desire in his eyes that she felt in her heart? Instead of speaking her permission, she took a step forward and set her hands on his shoulders.

  “Dear God, Damaris. I did not bring you here for this, but you should not be so lovely.” Dragging her close, Logan kissed her.

  With a moan, she responded in full measure. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she gave him full rein. His fingers pushed into her hair, his palm cupping her skull as he crushed his lips to hers.

  Warnings shot through her mind, but his seductive power called to her. All her life she’d stood strong, resisting attempts to control her, but this man could do it with a crook of his finger. He must not know that. He would take advantage of her. Spreading her hands over his chest, she traced the shape, ran her fingers along his ribs until his muscles flexed and he shifted position.

  He broke the kiss to mumble, his lips next to hers, “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve never been this close to a man before.”

  “You are enchanting.” He touched his lips to hers once more but, this time, he caressed her gently. Their breathing deepened, became more urgent. She was only touching him, gingerly venturing into new territory, exploring, discovering new worlds. “Utterly enchanting.” He deepened the kiss, but not as frantically as the first time. Licking into her mouth, he coaxed her response.

  This time, Damaris knew what she was doing better than before. She met the gentle touch of his tongue, teasing and caressing with the tip of her own.

  He moaned, the sound traveling directly from his mouth to hers, vibrating into her throat. His hands spanned her waist, moving upwards until his thumbs rested underneath her breasts.

  Damaris both longed and dreaded those hands cupping her aching flesh. She would have to tell him to stop. She could not allow such intimate caresses however much she longed to let him do whatever he liked.

  Why not? Why could she not allow herself this latitude just this once? It was hardly likely they would ever have this opportunity again, much less spend the night and at the same roof. He stroked her ribs, not touching the softness of her breasts and that was almost worse than if he’d claimed them, because then she could stop him. But she did not want to. He set her on fire. His nearness burned along her veins, driving her to clutch at him, pull him closer, taste him more passionately.

  With a groan of protest, he pushed her away, far enough to unseal their mouths. They gazed at each other. This close, she could have traced the lines by his eyes with the tip of her finger, drawn a line to his mouth and mapped him.

  He shook his head slightly, a wry smile curving his kiss-swollen lips. “If we continue, we may not stop. I feel it in you, Damaris. I want it, too, but we must not. You know that.” Although his words were reasonable, his voice shook. “The telescope,” he reminded her gently.

  He took her chair, and guided her to sit on his lap, turning her so she faced away from him. Fiddling with a control underneath the seat brought them down, so she was again level with the viewpiece.

  She sat with her back to him, his arms around her waist. Underneath the silk robe and the fine linen night rail, he made her startlingly aware that she was naked. A few layers of fine fabric were the only barriers between her body and his. He came alive for her. The trappings of respectability hid a body every bit as fine as she had imagined it.

  He swung the telescope to a new position. “I’ve been studying Mercury, and its relationship to Venus. Tell me what you see.”

  She told him, concentrating on dispassionate observations. Many astronomers worked this way, with one watching and the other taking notes. However, not many did it sitting on the lap of the other. “Shouldn’t you be taking notes?” she asked him at one point.

  He stroked her waist, the small movement sending shivers through her. Moving her hair aside, he kissed the base of her neck. “I will remember everything, I promise.”

  How could she return to London with him tomorrow? He would sit so close to her. How could she bear it after those searing kisses?

  “When we return to London,” he said, his voice steady once more and without that rasp she now knew meant arousal, “I will court you.”

  “But a match between us is impossible,” she said dully, reminding herself rather than him.

  He didn’t say anything immediately. Instead, he nuzzled her neck, sending her senses rocketing. She could no longer see the heavens. Her vision was blind to anything but him.

  He caressed her waist, pausing under her breasts once more, until one thumb touched their soft heat. “Damaris.” The word was torn out of him, scattering her good intentions to the four winds. “I will not—”

  Damaris gave up any pretense at study. Turning around in his lap, so she sat sideways, she took his jaw between her hands. “Do not,” she said fiercely, “do
not make promises, or tell me what you will not do. Do it or do not.” She wanted everything he could give her. If he meant to walk away, she wanted it now. They would never have this opportunity again.

  With a groan of surrender, he claimed her. His lips crushed hers, no attempt at courtesy. She responded eagerly, sliding her hand around his neck, dragging him close. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and held her so closely, surrounding her with a firestorm of need. His powerful arms wrapped around her, his hands spread wide, caressing her with a frantic fever she felt in every bone of her body. When he lifted her, she clung to him, uncaring where he was taking her.

  He laid her on a daybed set against the wall, under the window leading to the leads. Pulling a blanket down from the back of the bed, he covered her with it. “No more,” he said, chest heaving.

  Somehow, his hair had come loose and it flooded either side of his face, making him look like a barbarian. But he wasn’t behaving like one. She wanted to be ravaged.

  Slowly as he watched her, common sense returned. She swallowed. “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh. I brought you here to study the night sky, not for anything else. We have gone far enough. Rest, my dear, and we’ll go back downstairs as soon as we have both recovered.”

  When he’d said the word, she realized what a long day it had been and how tired she’d felt earlier.

  “That’s it. Close your eyes.”

  Like a child, she obeyed him.

  Logan watched Damaris sleep. He should not have done this. Kisses, but of such intimacy they rivaled anything he had done with other, less respectable women. His fault. All his fault.

  How could he have taken advantage of Damaris like this? He had truly meant to bring her upstairs and show her the telescope, not fall on her like a ravaging pirate. He’d planned it as a test of their friendship, assuming that if he met and spoke to her frequently, he would forget the madness that had seeped into his soul. Fool that he was.

  When she’d opened her bedroom door, he had been so close to pushing that aggravating, seductive pink silk aside, he could not believe he’d stopped himself. Her hair caressed her shoulders as he wanted to, and that damned silk gown drew attention to her figure rather than concealing it. What the devil was Grant about, giving her something as revealing as that? The garment had covered her from neck to ankle, but that made his torture worse. It delineated her body like a lover, hugging every delicious curve. He could not seduce her. This was temporary. He’d barely kept control of himself.

  This evening had been in the nature of a test, to see if he could retain mastery over himself. He knew as well as anyone that if he despoiled her, took her virginity, then he was honor bound to marry her.

  He would marry her tomorrow, if it were not that he knew he would not make her a good husband. He could never give her everything she craved. Damaris was made for love, for a man to care for her and devote his life to her.

  Logan was not that man. He could never be that man. He’d seen what love could do to a person. How could he forget the racking sobs, the terrifying sight of his mother driven mad by her husband’s infidelities? Then the efforts to make the philanderer into a saint?

  No, he would not risk that fate. He’d vowed it then, and nothing he had experienced since had served to change his mind. Until Damaris.

  He turned away, going through the mechanical process of adjusting the chair for his height and re-training the telescope to his area of study. To conduct precise observations, he should leave the telescope locked to a position, but he had memorized where he wanted to be. Meticulous, though tedious adjustments would restore the position.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about the woman quietly sleeping on the daybed. When she was talking, telling him what she was seeing in such precise detail, the other part of him, the thinker actually did want to write it down. Her turn of phrase was elegant, and she knew exactly the right terms to use. Logan found her precision immensely arousing.

  This was a society lady, most likely a virgin, although not all society misses could claim that. Her responses to him strongly suggested that she had not kissed anyone before like that. For Logan, that had made his situation worse. Her tiny shock of surprise every time he slid his tongue into her mouth sent his senses rocketing.

  He could not deny that he wanted her badly. Or that he could not have her. He should cultivate Lady Elizabeth again, but her coldness, the very thing he claimed he wanted, actually repulsed him. More than that, her behavior disgusted him, especially in the matter of the cartoon. Thanks to Grant, that scandal was probably abated, but he would keep her under careful observation. On paper, Lady Elizabeth Askew was the perfect candidate for a loveless marriage, and she was intelligent enough that he could share the burden of the estate with her. Practically, he could not bear the idea.

  Damaris would be safer without him. He would break her heart. If not now, then tomorrow or the next day.

  He engrossed himself into working for another hour. No more, or the maids would catch them.

  As he turned back to her, Damaris stirred and opened her eyes. Blinking, she gazed up at him as if he could solve the world’s problems. “I should go.”

  “You should.” He helped her to her feet, and tied her robe more securely for her. It was either that or untie it and send the world to perdition.

  She glanced back at the bed. “Do you make a habit of sleeping up here?”

  He nodded. “Since I first visited Greenwich and discovered this turret I made it my own. I can ride over from the center of town in an hour or so, and spend the night here.” He nodded to the bookcase. “I bought spare copies of my charts. This room was originally a store room for the workers, the people who clean up here, and repair the leads, but I’m afraid I evicted them.”

  “Did you get your love of the heavens here?”

  He shook his head. “No, that was at home in Scotland.” He wouldn’t tell her the unfortunate circumstances of his interest. That would mar an otherwise perfect evening. “I stay here when I can. Grant generously opened it to Adam and me whenever we feel the need to get away for a while.”

  He guided her to the door. “We have been friends since childhood. As boys, we sliced knives into our thumbs and pressed them together in an excess of zeal, swearing eternal brotherhood.” He held up his left thumb and showed her the faint mark. “We all have the marks to this day. We should not have performed the ritual with such enthusiasm.” They left the room and he closed the door and locked it. “My thumb throbbed for days, and my tutor whipped me for my inability to write a clean copperplate.”

  He let her go before him down the narrow staircase. Her tousled appearance attracted him even more than her formal appearance. He must be going soft in the head.

  They reached the bottom, and he walked with her past the bedrooms that held slumbering humanity in silence, but it was the kind of silence that invited companionship.

  Outside her room, he lifted her hand to his lips. “Goodnight,” he murmured. “Sleep well.”

  He waited until she had closed the door before he moved away.

  The memory of tonight would have to last him a long time, because he would never dare to repeat it.

  Chapter Nine

  They returned to London the same way they arrived—by boat. To Damaris’ mingled disappointment and relief, Logan remained behind, claiming he wanted to work. If Damaris had the choice, she would have stayed behind, too, for both more kisses and more time with that wonderful telescope. The instrument put hers to shame, but she refused to repine. She would save her pin money for a new one, because she could not live without those astonishing achromatic lenses. No color nimbus meant no blurring of images. She saw more detail in that one view through Logan’s scope than she had in her whole life.

  Dorcas was much recovered, and her illness did not return, but she retired to her room once they arrived home and spent the rest of the day there.

  Damaris’ illicit night of star-gazing and kisses had to remain in her me
mory, like a dream. She spent the day quietly, and did not go out that night.

  After a good night’s sleep, Dorcas declared herself as good as new. She ate a hearty breakfast at noon and asked brightly what their plans were for the day. With a short laugh, Annie turned over several pasteboard rectangles. Most were embossed, and they all had fancy edges and writing in thick black ink. “We have been invited to everything of note. And mark you, some of these events are not the huge balls where they want people to swell the crowd.”

  Dorcas raised a brow. “That’s something new.”

  “It appears your association with three eligible Scottish dukes is proving valuable.” Annie frowned. “Although there are rumors.”

  “What rumors?” Damaris said sharply. “Is it about that dreadful cartoon?”

  “No. That appears to have been a short-lived scandal.” Annie received a sharp look from Gerald, but she shrugged. “Do pour me another coffee, dear. The pot is with you. The girls have the right to know what is being said about them. Forewarned is forearmed, and so on.” Gerald grunted, but did as his wife asked. Instead of pushing the coffee to her, he picked up the cup and saucer and brought it around the table, completing his action by kissing Annie on her neck. She batted him away, but she was smiling as she did so. Chuckling, Gerald returned to his seat.

  “So what are they saying?” Damaris was not ready for distraction.

  “That you, Damaris, are sailing too close to the wind with the Duke of Glenbreck.”

  Dorcas scoffed. “Pah, that is jealousy speaking. No doubt our enemies are behind that. Lady Elizabeth Askew and her set.”

  Damaris shrugged. “There will always be someone. Society lives on gossip.” She busied herself buttering a roll, since she could not meet Annie’s gaze right now.

  If society was talking about them, society was right. She had not sailed into the wind, she’d plunged right into it. Her ears were probably turning bright red, but since the cap she’d plopped over her undressed hair covered her ears, she need not worry that anyone had noticed.