“Lady Damaris is a serious scholar and she deserves a serious instrument.”
Her smile would not be restrained. It broke out like the sun from behind the clouds, and she spun to face him. “Oh, thank you, Logan. You don’t know how much that meant to hear you say that.” Oh Lord, she’d used his real name in public. She could not commit those faux pas. They wouldn’t pass unnoticed.
“It’s the truth,” he said as if she had used the name she should. As if he hadn’t noticed.
Damaris only became aware of the fraught silence after a moment of gazing at him. If eyes could be said to be smiling, his were, the fine lines at the corners radiating out.
His smile slowly faded. “Ah. My lady, which instrument takes your fancy?” He cleared his throat.
She turned back to Mr. Heath, sure her face blazed scarlet. “That one,” she said, pointing to a plain brass telescope in a case on its own. It was another with a two foot barrel, but when Heath removed this one from the case, he handled it with extreme care, taking his time lifting it out. “This is of my own manufacture. I finished it yesterday. Usually these are only on special order, but the gentleman who wished to have this made was unfortunately unable to complete the order.”
“Ah. Does it have…?” With the desire to conceal her flaming cheeks, Damaris bent to the view finder. Naturally, all she could see was a blurred mess. But it was a blurred mess without a chromatic ring. The colors might be pretty, but she would keep that for her jewelry, not her telescopes.
“Yes, my lady, the very best. It is a refracting telescope and the tube is twenty-six inches long. The mount is simple, but effective. I do not believe in complication for its own sake.”
“Neither do I.” Somewhat restored, Damaris straightened. Logan cupped her elbow courteously. Even that small touch, his glove to her fabric and lace-clad elbow, thrilled her. She wanted to move further into his touch, for him to enclose her. “This is a beautiful telescope.”
Mr. Heath touched the tube with the tip of his finger. “A shame it is not going to its intended home.”
Damaris swallowed. “What price are you looking for?”
She thought she’d braced herself for the price, which she knew would be steep, but not the amount he told her. She stood, unseeing for a few seconds, while she took in the enormity of it.
Annie laughed. “Are you serious? I could buy a great deal of silver for that price. Enough to keep my workers busy for a month.”
Mr. Heath stared at her blankly, and then his features cleared. “Ah, yes, Lady Carbrooke. One of our own.”
Annie responded to his bow with a smile. “My reputation precedes me.”
“It always did.” Heath spoke to her directly, one business person to another. Damaris admired that, and wondered anew how strong her sister-in-law must be to command that kind of respect. Annie had been a widow with two young sons when Gerald had met her, or rather, when she’d stormed into their breakfast parlor, demanding an interview that instant.
As if losing her interest in the marvelous thing, Damaris moved away from the telescope and towards another case. A portable model sat there, covered with shagreen, the green sharkskin gleaming. “This is a lovely thing. May I see it?”
Mr. Heath bustled over and lifted it out for her. “More achromatic lenses. It is a three draw, and has a particularly sharp image.”
This was far better than the one she possessed. She had lenses, and sometimes strapped them to her regular telescope, trying to increase its range, but she did not know enough about lens technology to make it work. “How much is this one?”
Mr. Heath mentioned a much more reasonable price. It was still out of her range, but she could set herself to saving, and perhaps Gerald would allow her to draw from some of her trust fund. “I see. Thank you.” She turned away.
“Lady Damaris, allow me to present this to you as a gift.”
Bitterly, she faced the duke. “I would not dream of doing such a thing. When I buy a telescope I will pay for it.”
The irony was, Sir Peter had paid a lot for the fan that she didn’t really want. Perhaps she could sell it.
No, of course she could not. The fan was unique. Anyone seeing it would recognize it.
She dropped a curtsey. Already she was reckoning the amount of time she would need to save the money for the lovely instrument.
She had her original telescope. She would manage with that. It meant she had to do numerous readings and observations in order to check the numbers, but since she had been doing that for years she could do it for longer.
“I insist.”
Damaris shook her head violently. “It is out of the question. Such a gift would be beyond my ability to pay back.”
“A gift implies no payment,” he said gently.
She could not allow this. She would feel guilty for the rest of her life, with good reason.
She pasted a smile on her face. “Does your sister plan to attend a ball tomorrow night?”
He blinked at her abrupt change of subject. “Yes, I believe so. My mother informs me it is one of the squeezes of the season.”
Annie groaned. “Of all society’s antics, I dislike squeezes the most. Why her hostess would want to cram as many people into her reception rooms as possible defeats me. Why not invite the correct number?”
The duke laughed. “Because more people want to fit than can comfortably do so. Even if none truly enjoy themselves. I prefer wide open spaces to a society ballroom.”
His attention returned to Damaris. “Well?”
“Well what?” she demanded crossly.
“Will you allow me to present you with the telescope?” The worst thing was, he gestured towards the larger one, the one she truly wanted. It broke her heart to refuse him, but refuse him she must.
The gift far surpassed anything a gentleman should give to a lady. Trinkets were acceptable. Flowers were the safe gift. Telescopes? Not at all safe. And the monetary value was too high.
To forestall further argument, Damaris nodded politely in Mr. Heath’s direction and strode out of the shop. She crossed the platform and leaned over the balcony, peering at the courtyard below. It was distinctly lacking in population.
“You really should go to your dinner,” she said as the shop door jangled to allow Annie’s exit, followed closely by a tight-mouthed duke. Damaris continued before anyone else could speak. “I will take the carriage, and you keep the footman. Send him to the house when you need to return.”
Annie glanced at Gerald. Gerald shrugged. “I am entirely at your disposal,” he said, an amused smile curving his mouth. “This is Annie’s dinner, not mine. I am merely her escort.”
“Lady Damaris should not go unescorted,” Logan said softly.
Damaris lifted her chin. “I would appreciate your escort to the carriage.” She could keep him busy talking about things other than telescopes for that short distance.
The duke offered his arm. Damaris took it.
The they went down to the front entrance together in near silence. After bidding them good day, Annie and Gerald went off towards the mansion house. It was but a hundred yards away, a short walk.
“A society lady would not walk that far,” Logan murmured, his mouth so close to her ear that his breath heated it.
Damaris fought the instinct to jerk away. “Then it’s just as well Annie is more than a society lady.”
“So it is.”
The town-carriage drew up where they were standing. Logan opened the door himself and let down the steps, leaving the footman about to undertake the task standing uselessly behind him. Damaris was forced to take his hand in order to step inside the vehicle.
Logan swung in behind her, taking the seat next to her. Before she could opened her mouth to protest, the stairs were folded up, the door was closed and the carriage was on its way.
Logan leaned back against the corner. “Why won’t you let me buy you even the smallest instrument?”
Frantically, she sought for an
answer and recalled what she had said in a shop. “You cannot show me such favor. The rumors would be terrible.”
“We can put a stop to them.”
The arrogance of the man! “Oh, I doubt they would tax you with the gossip. We have only just regained a foothold in society. I could not risk losing that reputation as quickly as we achieved it.”
“They will not.” He grimaced. “All right, they might. I will find a way.”
She continued hastily. “In any case, I do need to think about it. The larger telescope would require space where I could erect it. I have to consider whether I need another smaller instrument.” He would understand that.
He nodded. “Then you will let me present you with the smaller of the two. For now.”
She smoothed out her skirt, more for something to do rather than from necessity. She kept her eyes on the pattern woven into the cloth rather than meeting his perceptive gaze.
“What is this?” He brandished a carefully wrapped parcel.
She folded her arms. “Sir Peter insisted on buying me a fan.”
Logan nodded at the one dangling from her wrist. “That looks like a fan to me.”
“A woman needs more than one fan as well you know.” She glared defiantly at him. If he was planning to argue that since Sir Peter had bought her the fan he could buy her the telescope, she was ready to argue the case.
“Fair enough.” Logan turned the parcel in his hands. “May I see it?”
At least that would stop him talking about telescopes. Damaris nodded. “Be my guest.”
Logan quickly disposed of the outside wrapper, tossing the tissue carelessly on the seat next to him. He unlatched the box and turned it over to drop the contents into his hand.
After unfurling the fan, he stared at it. “Rather gaudy for my taste.” He ran a finger across the jewels. “It would look better without the diamonds.”
“They’re not diamonds, they’re brilliants. Paste.”
His head jerked up and he looked at her, his gaze sharp. “You are mistaken. They are diamonds. Did you not know that shop does not use paste?”
He had to be wrong. She stared at him, her jaw dropping.
“Not a casual gift, then.”
Disdainfully, he tossed the fan onto the seat between them. It glittered balefully, catching the rays of sun as the carriage turned a corner. “A vulgar sign of claiming, worthy of the most primitive savage.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “If society sees you sporting that particular monstrosity, it will expect the announcement of your marriage in short order. A woman bearing an item of that kind of ostentation and value is either about to be married, safely wed, or taking a new lover. So which of them did you plan to announce?”
Damaris wanted to deny it, but her mind went back over events. Logan’s explanation made sense. It would explain why Sir Peter had selected the gaudiest item on display. She stared at Logan, horrified. If he’d not told her, she would have sailed into that ball tomorrow night in all innocence, waving the damned thing about as if it meant nothing. Her throat went dry. “I do not want to marry Sir Peter.”
She could tell nothing from his closed-off expression, as ducal as she’d ever seen him. “Have you considered his suit? The man is a popinjay, but he does share an interest with you. You could do worse.”
She lifted a shoulder. “That is very well for a friend. I look for more from a husband.” She was still absorbing the shock Logan had just dealt her. Her willful blindness to society’s mores had plunged her into this pickle. From now on, she would pay more attention and consider the ramifications of what she did. Perhaps the suspicion in which society held them was partly due to her. She had so obviously shown disdain, that they had shown it back.
Grabbing the fan, he brandished it at her. “This is far more a declaration of intent than any telescope.” With an exclamation of disgust he tossed the offending article on to the seat opposite.
She scooped it up and threw it back at him. “Take it, I don’t want it.” The thought of how she was so easily nearly trapped horrified her.
Shooting her a wry grin he restored the item to its box and tucked it inside his pocket.
“Give it me back.”
“No. I don’t want to look at the thing anymore.”
She folded her arms and glared at him. “You should not even be here. You said you were escorting me to the carriage not joining me inside. That is scandalous.”
Leaning over her, Logan pulled the shutter over the window. Then he performed the same office on his side. “Now nobody can see. Happy now?”
She waited for her eyes to adjust to the sudden gloom. “That is even worse. If anyone sees you getting out of this carriage they will be scandalized.”
“They won’t see me. I can promise you that.” He groaned. “Will you stop looking at me like that, lassie? I swear a man can only take so much.”
Grabbing her hand, he hauled her across the short distance between them and dragged her into his arms. He crushed his mouth to hers and delivered a fierce kiss, then drew away, cupping her chin in his hand. “No protests?”
“You seem intent on ruining my reputation, so I suppose not.” She was too eager to touch him to worry about propriety, right now at any rate.
He humphed, and kissed her again, gentler this time, exploring her mouth with long, lavish strokes of his tongue. Eagerly, she met him, tasted him in her turn and received her reward in the form of a groan, rumbling up from his throat. When he cinched her tighter, she put up with the bones of her stays poking uncomfortably into her breasts at the top and stomach at the base. She’d have let them pierce her skin before she’d have stopped this.
With every kiss she forgot all her good intentions. When he drew away, she followed him, evoking a chuckle deep in his throat. “I thought you wanted to be circumspect.”
“I do.” Straightening, she went back to smoothing her skirts, trying desperately to maintain an illusion of respectability. “You should not provoke me so.”
“All I did was act on my instincts.” A smile flirted with his features.
“You have the experience.”
“Not with you.” The smile disappeared, and he reached for her hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t ravish you.” The smile returned. “Not yet, anyway.”
Damaris swallowed. The mental images that came immediately to her mind swamped her in sensation. She cleared her throat.
“Tell me, why did you not want another telescope?”
He must have taken pity on her. Any more touches and she would have succumbed and allowed him to do anything he wanted. However, his question was not. “Telescopes are very expensive. They are not a casual gift.”
“You have said that already and I do not think that is the entire reason. Convince me.”
At first, Damaris bridled. Who was he to demand an explanation? But she knew him well enough by now to understand that he would not stop until she told him something. She longed for the instrument but it would replace her current one. The last thing she wanted was to replace the one she owned with another that held messy memories.
It would hurt her to tell him what she had kept to herself for so long but she had no alternative.
She lifted her head and met his eyes. “When we were small children, we lived in the country with our parents. We lived modestly but in comfort.” She fell silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. The sound of the horses’ hooves and the wheels rolling over the cobbles soothed her. She knew what she would say now. “My mother died giving birth to us. After she died, my father took only mistresses. We knew nothing of this until much later, because he never seduced maids and he kept his women away from us.” She swallowed.
“Do not tell me if it hurts you,” he said. “I’m sorry I pressed you. I won’t do it anymore.”
She shook her head. “After a while, Father became careless. Sometimes we would hear laughter and other sounds that we could not explain. Our footmen increased in number, and in looks. We had the brawnie
st, youngest footmen in the neighborhood. In my innocence, I decided to find out what was happening when a woman cried out particularly loudly.” She stared at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She could not look at him. Knowledge of the incident filled her with shame, even today so many years later. “He had our governess with him, and two footmen. They were taking turns with her.”
She dared a glance at him. His expression was impassive. He could have been listening to a tedious story recited by one of society bores for all the response she saw in his face.
That passivity gave her the courage to carry on. “I fled. Later, when I taxed her with it, the governess laughed at me. She told me that within a few years I would be doing the same, once I found a fool to marry. She thought she had snared Father, you see, but he dismissed her after that.”
She swallowed away the lump in her throat. “I told nobody. I could not. I didn’t know what to say. A few days later, I found a telescope on my bed with a note. ‘You would be better looking out than in’ it said.”
His large hand enclosed hers. Still, he said nothing.
She looked up, a bright smile determinedly pasted on her face. “So I did. I started looking at the stars. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Not even your brother?”
Damaris shook her head. “No. I could not. I did not know what to say but when Gerald and my sisters caught me weeping in a corner, it all poured out of me. Then I told them, Gerald and Dorcas and Delphi. Gerald was furious, but he was only sixteen, and he could do nothing. That day, we made a vow that we would leave as soon as we could. Matters grew worse. You can’t keep secrets like that from inquisitive neighborhoods and we were soon a local scandal. As soon as Gerald was old enough to leave home, directly he came down from Oxford and took us to the house in Bunhill Row. We lived there, leaving the country house to Father. He died a year later, and we were glad of it.”
She swallowed. It had been hard to leave the country house, but they had become accustomed to living in London, so much that when their father had died and Gerald inherited, they chose to remain in London for most of the year. “None of us wanted to go back there to live once our father died. You are the first person outside the family who knows.” She would not tell him about Gerald’s attacks of panicked terror, ending with him sweating and curled in a corner. That would be for him to speak of. But they were drawn from these incidents and something else he never spoke about.
A Hint of Starlight Page 16
