In the Stars

by Ava Stone

  IN THE STARS

  Copyright © 2014 by Ava Stone

  Cover Design by Lily Smith

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Mom ~

  You have always loved stories that can’t truly be explained away. So this is for you. ~

  Ava

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  epilogue

  about ava stone

  the ben skrewd novellas

  sneak peek of deb marlowe’s liberty and the pursuit of happiness

  In the name and on the behalf of His Majesty.

  George PR

  George the third by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, King Defender of the Faith, etc. To all to whom these Presents shall come greeting:

  Our Will and Pleasure is, and we do hereby declare and ordain, that from and after the date of this warrant, Lieutenant Colonel Nathaniel Alexander Carrick shall be styled, entitled and called Nathaniel Alexander Carrick, Viscount Healeyfield in recognition for his bravery and valor in his defense of Our Kingdom. Such titles and appellations, which to him now do, or at any time hereafter may belong or appertain, in all Deeds, Records, Instruments or Documents whatsoever, wherein he may at any time hereafter be named or described. Given at Our Court at Carlton House the Eighth Day of March 1816 in the Fifty-Sixth Year of Our Reign.

  By the Command of His Royal Highness the Prince Regent, in the Name and on the behalf of His Majesty.

  Sidmouth.

  April 1816 – London

  Nathaniel Carrick, the 1st Viscount Healeyfield, sat behind his rented desk, staring at a pile of bills and cursing the day he was granted entrance into the peerage. He had neither asked for nor wished for a Royal Commendation. And he certainly hadn’t lobbied for a leaky abbey in County Durham to go along with his new viscountcy. None of that was neither here nor there at this point, however, but Nathaniel had no idea how he was to keep Healeyfield Abbey afloat. He certainly couldn’t do so with what was left of his officer’s commission.

  He scratched his brow, wondering what he could possibly sell, just to stay solvent. If he had a lucky bone in his body, he might try his fortunes at a Hazard table. But Nathaniel had never been terribly lucky in games of chance, and he couldn’t imagine squandering away what little he did have on the roll of a pair of dice. Not for the first time over the last sennight, he was plagued with the unfortunate truth that managing a battlefield was immeasurably easier than managing an estate. Life had been much simpler in the army. Things had made some modicum of sense. But this—

  “Nate, ye’re not going to make me call ye Lord Holy-whatever-ye-are-now, are ye?” his old friend Captain Griffin Reid asked from the threshold.

  Nathaniel glanced from his desk to the tall Scot who was leaning quite casually against the doorjamb. “Healeyfield,” he grumbled. “But from now on you can just refer to me as ‘Oh Great One’.”

  “Very well, Oh Great One,” Griff chuckled, “Ye’re looking rather glum this afternoon. Did ye just get word ol’ Boney is back in control of the French army?”

  Would that he was. At that unpatriotic thought, Nathaniel snorted. “At least if that were true I wouldn’t have to waste my time on this stack of rubbish.” He gestured dismissively towards the mound of bills on his desk.

  Griff pushed away from the door and sauntered further into the study. “That ol’ pile of stones again, huh?”

  Healeyfield Abbey. He’d never forget the moment he rode up to his new estate. The sun had settled on the old place just right, casting it in a warm glow and instilling more than a bit of pride in Nathaniel’s heart. Healeyfield Abbey was his. A legacy. Something of merit to be passed from one generation of his line of Carricks to the next. But the sun had settled behind the clouds, and the extent of the abbey’s dilapidated state hit Nathaniel like a ball in his chest. “Easy for you to be dismissive. You won’t lose every farthing you ever earned.”

  Griff shrugged. “So ye marry Throssell’s daughter. Ye promised to do so anyway.”

  Nathaniel glared at his friend. Marrying a girl he’d never met was not high on his list of wants. At the time of the agreement, he’d simply wanted to ease the old Colonel’s mind before the man passed. He hadn’t imagined his commanding officer would have survived his wounds and actually wanted to see his only daughter become the 1st Viscountess Healeyfield. Though to be fair, Colonel Throssell had only wanted to see his only daughter become Mrs. Carrick at the time. “I don’t see you rushing off to marry your intended.”

  The Scotsman heaved a sigh. “I went straight to Scotland upon our return, only to discover the MacLarens were in London.”

  “You’re in London now.”

  “True.” Griff dropped into a chair in front of Nathaniel’s desk. “But I could wait another decade before having to deal with Ericht. Besides, Ellie’s a child, Nate. A bairn, really. There’s no hurry.”

  Nathaniel, however, was in a hurry. Not to marry some girl he’d never met, but to figure out a solution to his Healeyfield Abbey situation. The sooner, the better.

  Besides, he hadn’t given much thought at all to his own intended as he had every intention of allowing Miss Throssell the opportunity to cry off. The girl shouldn’t be forced into a marriage she hadn’t sought, one she probably didn’t even want with some fellow she didn’t even know. “I suppose I should make an appointment to see Throssell and get this over with.”

  Griff nodded in agreement. “I suppose ye should. Seems to me he’s anxious to see his daughter settled and—”

  “—I’m not going to hold her to this betrothal, Griff.” Nathaniel leveled his friend with a glare that said the matter wasn’t up for debate.

  Bewilderment flashed across the Scot’s face. “The girl is the answer to yer problems, Nate. Throssell is in possession of a fortune and ye’re in need of one.”

  That was neither here nor there. Nathaniel raked a hand through his hair. “It’s hardly fair to her.”

  “Fair?” Griff snorted. “She’ll become Lady Holy-whatever-ye-are-now.”

  “Healeyfield,” Nathaniel growled, not that the sound dissuaded Griff from continuing.

  “Besides, isn’t that what yer class does?” the Scot asked pointedly. “Marry for money and land in exchange for a title or to right some wrong?”

  His class, indeed. Though Nathaniel’s grandfather was an earl, his own father had been but a lowly vicar, the youngest of seven brothers who had instilled a strong work ethic in his own sons. His grandfather might have purchased Nathaniel’s commission, but it was the only thing the old man had ever bestowed upon his youngest grandson, which was perfectly fine with Nathaniel. Taking charity from his grandfather or anyone else for that matter pricked at his pride. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself…Or rather he had been until the albatross that was Healeyfield Abbey was strung about his neck.

  If Griff hadn’t once saved Nathaniel’s life from a French sword about to pierce his lung, he would have happily crushed his fist into the Scot’s nose. As it was, Griff had saved his life, so Nathaniel only narrowed his eyes once more on his friend. “Go bugger off.”

  As was his nature, Grif
f leaned back in his chair and chuckled heartily. Damn him. “Ye’ve never been the sentimental sort. Marry the girl. Get it over with. Then go about repairing the ol’ pile of stones Prinny decided to bestow ye with for yer bravery.”

  The very idea gnawed at his soul. It seemed so ignoble, so sycophantic, so disingenuous.

  “What if ye like the lass? What if she wants to marry ye?” Griff pressed.

  That seemed too easy, too convenient. Nathaniel sent his friend a look that suggested such an idea was not terribly probable.

  Griff shrugged in response. “Just seems to me, ye might want to find out if ye’d rub along well before ye dissolve yer betrothal. She could very well be the answer to yer prayers.”

  The Scot did have a point. What if he and Miss Throssell could rub along well? His problems would be solved rather easily, if that was the case. Besides, there were few men Nathaniel admired as much as he did Colonel Throssell. It only stood to reason that man’s daughter must be estimable in her own right. The true question was whether or not they were compatible, whether or not they could build a future together, whether or not she would think him a fortune hunter. Nathaniel didn’t think he could live with the latter. “I suppose I should meet her first,” he finally conceded.

  A grin spread across Griff’s face. “I knew ye’d come to yer senses. The Throssells’ll be at the Ridgemont ball this evening.”

  A ball. Nathaniel managed not to groan.

  “Or we could stumble upon her before then.”

  Nathaniel narrowed his eyes once more on the Scot. “Before then?”

  Griff shrugged. “She’s currently on a walk in Hyde Park. If we go now, Throssell won’t even be around to try and influence either of ye.”

  “How the devil do you know where she is right now?” Had Griff taken to spying on the poor girl? That hardly seemed like him.

  Again, his friend chuckled. “I just came from Throssell’s. Heard the butler inform the colonel that his daughter had just left for the park.”

  “You would have made a fine scout.”

  Griff dusted the appellate on his shoulder. “I think I make a perfectly fine captain, thank ye very much.”

  Miss Wilhelmina Throssell glanced out the small window as the hack rolled over cobblestones. The sights – swarthy looking fellows loitering about a pub, unwashed children scattered about the streets, and haggard women looking for a bit of coin – as well as a cacophony of sounds – raised voices, a crying child somewhere in the distance, and vendors hocking the wares on the street – might make most misses wince or perhaps clutch their reticules a bit tighter to their chest. But this was exactly where Mina meant to be. At least she thought it was.

  The soft scent of lilacs filled her nose and she knocked hastily on the roof. “Do stop, please.”

  The hack halted at her command. Down an alley, past the One-eyed Hag pub – if one looked closely – a weathered sign hung over a small door. Madam Derbardi. Mina smiled to herself. This was most definitely where Mama wanted her to go. She could sense it as though drawn to the fortuneteller’s lair by her mother’s lilac essence. Mina’s future, whatever it was, lay just inside that small door.

  “We’d best be quick, Miss Mina.” Her maid, Peggy, stared most pointedly at her. “I told Davies we were headed to the park.”

  Mina blinked at her maid. It wasn’t necessary to lie to Davies. He was a sweet, caring man with an honest soul. In fact, the butler didn’t have an unkind bone in his body. “I don’t think he’d try to keep us from venturing to White Chapel on our own.”

  “He might.” Peggy sighed tiredly, as she was wont to do. “Just like Browne might if we’d taken the coach. I didn’t want to put Davies in the position of choosing between his loyalties.”

  His loyalties between Mina and her father. Where Davies might not have minded at all about their excursion to White Chapel, Papa would most definitely be upset. Peggy did have a point about that. Though Mina believed in living an honest life, that it was the secret to one’s happiness, she’d discovered ever since the end of the Peninsular Wars that her own harmony was contingent upon not sharing most of her thoughts with her father. Mama had understood her. Papa, apparently, never had.

  “So let’s do hurry, Miss Mina.”

  Mina nodded quickly and pushed open the hack door. She stepped out into the sun and smiled up at the driver. “I won’t be long, if you’d please wait for us.”

  The fellow glanced about their surroundings and frowned a bit. Clearly, he didn’t want to stay. She could see it in his expression. “If ya won’t be long.”

  “I’ll be quick as can be,” she promised. Then with Peggy at her side, she strode swiftly down the alley, following the soft lilac scent, and opened the door that led to her future.

  A little bell tinkled above her head at their entrance, and Mina blinked into the darkness of the room that didn’t even possess a window. A few tallow candles were sprinkled about, however, offering a bit of light and a slightly unpleasant smell.

  Peggy’s breath hitched in her throat, but the maid didn’t complain or beg to wait outside, and Mina’s heart filled with affection for her servant. Davies might have a difficult time choosing between his loyalties, but Peggy had always been completely devoted to Mina. Still, she didn’t want her maid to be uneasy. Mina cast a sidelong glance at Peggy and said, “Perhaps you should wait with the driver, make certain he doesn’t leave us.”

  “But Miss—” she began at the exact moment a crackly voice from the darkness said, “Your mistress will be safe.”

  Peggy leapt slightly at the sound, but Mina stared in the direction from where the voice had come. An older woman stepped forward, and the light from the candles illuminated her weathered face in the darkness. A mane of wild, black hair streaked with a bit of silver hung about her shoulders. Her brown eyes settled on Mina, piercing her as though she could see into her soul.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  A shiver raced down Mina’s spine. Proof of her mother’s presence, most definitely. “Are you Madam Debardi?” she asked, not certain what else to say now that she was here. She’d been drawn to the place, had seen it in her dreams the night before, and when she’d awoken this morning, she’d known she needed to find this particular door in this particular alley, that some secret about her future lay just inside. But now that she was here…

  “You want your cards read.”

  Did she? Mina had her palm read once when they were in Salzburg many years ago, but she hadn’t ever had her cards read before. Was that what her mother wanted her to see? Something in her cards? Something of great importance that she needed to know? “Yes,” she said after a moment. She had sought the fortuneteller out, after all. Whatever her mother wanted her to know, Mina needed to find out what it was.

  “Miss Mina,” Peggy warned.

  She glanced over her shoulder at her maid and smiled. “I’ll be fine, Peggy. But do make certain the driver won’t leave us.”

  A second later, the tinkling of the bell over the door signaled Peggy’s departure, and at once, the room felt even darker.

  “Over there,” the fortuneteller said, gesturing to her left.

  Mina hadn’t noticed the small table until now. Her eyes must finally be adjusting to the dim light. She followed the fortuneteller’s direction and slid into one of the worn out chairs.

  Madam Derbardi picked up a candle and brought it with her to the table. As she sat, the candlelight danced across a stack of tattered cards in the middle of the table, illuminating a depiction of a large, all-seeing eye. “Pick up the deck,” the fortuneteller advised. “Shuffle the cards, let them soak in your aura.”

  Mina picked up the cards and a spark of warmth shot through her. Heavens!

  “Whatever question you want answered, hold it in your mind,” Madam Derbardi said, her dark eyes boring into Mina’s. “You can turn cards upside down or leave them as they are. You’ll know when it’s time to return them to the table.”

&nb
sp; Mina closed her eyes and shuffled the cards. What does my future hold? she wondered over and over. What does my future hold? After a moment, her eyes fluttered open and she placed the deck back on the little table in front of her.

  Madam Derbardi nodded then said, “Nothing to be worried about.”

  Mina couldn’t agree more. “Oh, I’m not worried, just anxious. I…Well, I felt something in the air this morning, madam. A chill of sorts. I think my mother is trying to tell me something important. She’s the one who led me here.”

  “Mmm.” The old woman nodded. “I noticed the lilacs when you entered. You’re sensitive to the spirit plane, aren’t you?”

  Mina supposed that was true, though she’d never heard it put in such a way before. Papa and Aunt Irene generally grumbled the words mystical nonsense under their breath, not that it mattered. Mina knew there was more to life than what one could see, one just had to know where to…well, look, for lack of a better word. Though perhaps feel was the better word. One simply needed to pay attention to one’s own heart. At least that was what Mama had always said when she was alive. “Well, I was always very close to her.”

  “What do you think she’s trying to tell you?”

  Mina had no idea. That was, after all, why she’d sought out Madam Derbardi in the first place. “Something about my future, I suspect.”

  “Your future is in the stars, Wilhelmina.”

  Tingles raced down Mina’s spine. Your future is in the stars. How many times had Mama said those very words to her when she was a little girl? “What is it, Madam? What is in the stars?”

  The fortuneteller smiled, her blackened teeth catching her lip as she did so. “Let’s find out, shall we?” Madam Derbardi turned over the first three cards and placed them in front of Mina. “Before we can see the future, we must look at the past,” she began. “The Queen of Wands, The Chariot, and the Ten of Pentacles in reverse.”

  That was her past? Those three cards? “What do they say?”