Magic in the Stars

by Patricia Rice

  His heart did stop when he saw the last fleeing horseman turn and aim a shotgun at the roof. The explosion of gunfire rattled the yard.

  Aster screamed and slid down the far side, out of sight.

  Panicking, unable to emit a sound, Theo kicked his lathered horse into a gallop. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think until he’d reached Aster. He traversed the final distance into the yard at breakneck speed. Heart and head frozen, he could only act. Dropping from the saddle, Theo raced around the stable, steps behind Jacques, who was shouting frantically.

  He would kill Jacques another day. The huddled mound of cloak and legs sprawled on a stack of newly-delivered hay was all Theo could see now. His vocal chords and lungs returned. “Aster!” His frantic cry rang against the cobbles as he dropped into the hay and lifted her limp form into his arms.

  “Mmpf” was his only reply as she wiped at her face.

  Oh, God, she was alive. He still couldn’t breathe. Every muscle in his body had tightened into knots.

  “You’ve killed me dead,” he muttered into her hair. “Tell me you’re alive. If anything happened to you, it would just be easier if I died now while my heart’s stopped working. Aster, for the love of all that’s holy, tell me you’re alive!”

  “Straw,” she murmured, brushing at the cloak. “Mouth.”

  “Fetch water,” Theo shouted at Jacques, who was dancing around helplessly. “Tell the others to go after the mongrels in the lane.”

  A month ago, he would have been racing after the bloody bastards, whip in hand, with no thought to anything but his fury—because his anger would have been more important than all else. But now—all that mattered to him was in his arms. He wasn’t going anywhere until he knew his fairy general would hold and kiss him again.

  He hugged her closer, trying to determine if she was hurt, but she merely snuggled against him and wiped her face on his waistcoat. He wanted to weep but didn’t know how. “You could have broken your bloody neck! Don’t ever do that to me again. I mean it, I can’t bear it. If what I’m feeling now is love, it’s excruciating. I can’t live through this agony another time,” he whispered, before Jacques could return.

  She squirmed and kissed the skin above the opening of his shirt. “Love hurts,” she murmured insensibly. “It’s so very painful when you want to be with someone and can’t. I didn’t want to love anyone ever again.”

  Theo gulped air and tried to steady his breathing by covering her face with kisses. When she didn’t wince, he had to hope she wasn’t injured too badly. “It damn well hurts when I’m with you and see you do insane things like that!”

  She sighed and turned her head so her mouth met his. Theo sank into the kiss, needing the reassurance before he shook sense into her.

  She placed a hand on his chest and pushed away to gasp for air. “I didn’t run away,” she said proudly. “I stopped the danger I saw in my charts.”

  “I’m not certain that’s a better solution. I was coming to do it,” he grumbled, reaching for the water Jacques handed him.

  “I’ve sent Browne and the others down the lane. I didn’t know she would climb on the roof!” his brother said hurriedly. “Honest! We were just scaring them off.”

  “Go away.” Theo waved at him. “Go tell Dunc what’s happening before he tumbles down the stairs trying to find out.”

  Jacques ran off and Aster struggled to sit up, but Theo wouldn’t let her. He fed her water and rocked her in his arms and tried to come down out of the boughs she’d sent him into.

  “You came back because of my prediction?” she asked in disbelief.

  “I couldn’t take a chance of losing you,” he said again, because it bore repeating. He was still coming to grips with the realization, and he needed to say the words to make them real. “You nearly yanked my heart and soul out of my body just now. If I lose you, who will help me keep this place whole? Unless you want to kill me, you have to vow that you’ll never risk your life like that again!”

  “Can’t,” she said with a cough after swallowing the water too fast. “Even childbirth is dangerous.”

  He took the flask away from her and pounded her on the back as she coughed. “In your case, even drinking is dangerous. You’re a walking, talking thundercloud. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

  She sat up and kissed his cheek. “I love you too. Now will you take me to the bathing room?”

  She loved him. As he loved her. It was a wondrous—unutterably terrifying—realization.

  Thirty-two

  Aster allowed Theo to haul her from the haystack. With the wind knocked out of her from the terrifying fall—then from Theo’s almost-declaration of love—she was pretty shaky.

  Had he really returned to the Hall because he believed her prediction?

  She clung to his neck as he lifted her. She pressed kisses on his bristled jaw and let his muttered curses and threats flow right over her. She was his heart and soul! No one had ever said such a wonderful thing to her. Her own foolish heart pounded a timpani in response. She had never expected love, and she closed her eyes and soaked up the bliss.

  She would never have dragged that admission out of him had she not risked her silly neck and dared to confront danger. She’d interpreted her chart correctly—Uranus made her good at abrupt changes! Like declaring and accepting love . . .

  She was still shivering from being shot at, but her love for Theo spilled over to warm her. She had not dared admit love, but when she’d offered him her Malcolm vows, she’d already been head-over-heels. It had been foolish of her to deny the obvious—so she would stop being foolish right now while she still had the power to speak.

  “I love you,” she murmured again in a break in his aggrieved tirade. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

  Theo carried her in the side door, kicked it shut, and kissed her fiercely—then lifted his head and glared at her again. “You terrify me. You always terrify me. I wasn’t meant to take care of others.”

  She nibbled his neck. “That’s just plain silly. Just because you never have before doesn’t mean you aren’t capable. You’ll learn. And you can put me down now, honest. I’m not broken, just shaken.”

  “I don’t think I can let you go,” he admitted. “What if you decide to fly off the roof? Slide down banisters? How am I going to live should you leave me? It’s too perplexing, so I’m keeping you right here where you can’t escape.”

  “I don’t think that will work very well,” she said with amusement. “Perhaps you could just take me to the bathing room. Hot water helps, and I can’t go far from there. You need to see who the intruders were. I know Montfort was one, but I didn’t recognize the others. And they talked about someone who wasn’t there, someone who caused Duncan’s accident. You really need to stop the marauders before they grow bold enough to do worse. And what about your manufactory?”

  His arms tightened around her, and his lips formed a grim line. “I will kill Montfort tomorrow. Browne can tie up the others and let them rot in the fields until daylight. I don’t give a damn what William is doing to the rioters. I want to look the villain who shot at you in the eye before I lop off his head. Besides, I have just this minute vowed to put you first, before any and all head lopping.”

  She laughed a little against his shoulder. “You are starting to sound like Ashford. There will be no head lopping, please. But perhaps you should join me in the bath, then, and re-direct your hostility. You promised we’d share and we haven’t.”

  Theo’s grip loosened, and his mouth formed a softer line as he gazed down on her. She was learning to re-direct her action-oriented husband, she thought. His heated look took the chill from her bones without need of hot water.

  “That’s the best method to prevent beheading that I’ve ever heard. We need to find a woman for Dunc so he can try that solution.” He kissed her hard and carried her up the stairs in the direction of their suite and the bathing room.

  ***

  Holding a telescope, H
artley ran up when Theo and Aster reached the upper corridor. “William has routed the rioters! The hounds are chasing the leaders back to London, and the tenants are racing after the rest with pitchforks.”

  “Excellent.” Theo didn’t halt. “Now watch to see what happens to the ones in the lane.”

  Hartley cheerfully ran off, leaving Theo to carry his mad bride to the tub.

  He lit all the lamps and admired her naked, in the water and out. Hot water did nothing to reduce his need as he joined her.

  After making soul-satisfying love to his witchy wife in the tub, reassuring himself that she wasn’t broken, Theo settled Aster in his arms and thought he’d melt and become one with the water. His beautiful bride was a creative and eager lover. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her, but he was more than ever determined to keep her for a hundred years.

  She’d predicted disaster, and they’d averted it. How was that possible?

  She was nibbling his neck, and he was debating whether they could just mindlessly spend the night in the bath when he heard a scratch on the door.

  “Do we have to answer it?” he murmured. Aster’s wet breast was pressed into his chest, creating erotic sensations, and her bottom was positioned precisely where he needed her. “And why are they scratching instead of pounding and shouting?”

  “Because I am a very good teacher.” When she pushed at his arms, he reluctantly released her, and she stood up.

  Admiring rivulets of water running from his wife’s exquisite curves, Theo watched in amazement as she pulled a rope—and a . . . drapery? . . . cut off the bath from the door.

  “Enter,” she called, sinking back into the tub facing him.

  Theo scowled at the curtain, as if it was at fault for the intrusion.

  “His lordship requests your presence, my lord,” a female voice said. “They have captured the . . .” The maid hesitated over the message. “The miscreants, I believe he said.”

  “Thank you, Molly. Have Mr. Ledbetter lay out Lord Theo’s clothes, will you? My robe will be enough.”

  Aster dragged her toe down Theo’s chest while they waited for the door to close again. He caught her foot and nibbled the predatory toe, then rubbed her feet until she groaned helplessly.

  “Mr. Ledbetter?” he inquired while she leaned back and hummed with pleasure.

  “Mr. Browne recommended him, said he was batman for a captain during the war. He’s a bit rough for London ways, but I thought he might learn something from Jones and be more suitable for your equally crude habits.”

  “What the devil can he learn from Jones?” Uncertain whether to be pleased or not about her hiring another valet, Theo grudgingly released her foot to peer around the curtain. Their robes had been neatly hung on hooks that he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before.

  She purred happily and paddled in the water some more, stirring the scent of roses. “Jones is an unappreciated genius. That coat and muffler he dressed you in for the tea party were not only the epitome of fashion, but suited you perfectly. Ledbetter will not have his fashion sense. He will only see you shaved properly and lay out clothes as requested, that sort of thing. You can yell at him all you like, and he’ll only wait until you give him sensible orders. Jones is a little more . . . sensitive.”

  “You intend to civilize us,” he complained, reluctantly climbing from the tub to towel off.

  “I doubt that’s possible,” she declared, gazing meaningfully at his partial erection. “Men are more or less animals who have learned to disguise the fact. I don’t object, mind you. But the more civilized you appear, the more other men respect your disguise.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” he protested, but he had never learned to be sociable and didn’t understand human nature enough to argue. He donned his robe and looked regretfully down on her. “Will you stay here so I can come back later?”

  “I’d turn into a prune. I’ve soaked away my aches. I’ll wait for you in bed, so tell Ashford to be quick about the trial. And don’t attempt to haul your prisoners off anywhere until morning.” She raised her legs out of the water and seductively rubbed one curvaceous limb with the other.

  She was bribing him not to linger elsewhere. But now that he knew she wasn’t broken, he had to return to his responsibilities. The balance between keeping his wife happy and doing what must be done was tricky, but he was smart. He’d figure it out eventually. He might be the first Ives in a generation to do so.

  “We can’t hold a trial without you as witness. Dunc’s just wanting an excuse to beat someone up. I’ll be back quickly.” Theo leaned over and kissed her head, then let himself out of the bathing room.

  Amazingly, clean clothes were laid out in the suite for him, and there wasn’t a servant in sight to yell at. And no reason to yell. Loose trousers, an old shirt and waistcoat, and his slippers were sufficient to take him down the corridor to Duncan’s chambers.

  Theo could see where this business of thinking about others first instead of just pounding heads would be an equilibrium as difficult to maintain as the one between husband and wife. But if it meant keeping Aster, he’d learn. She’d hired a valet—one that she thought might suit him! And that drapery thing in the bathing room . . . Given their domestic interruptions, that was beyond clever, and one of those niceties an all-male household would never consider.

  Instead of complaining, Aster sought solutions. Theo thought a woman like that might be a rarity.

  Unfortunately, the ability to think and do for herself led to roof-climbing episodes. He might die of heart failure before he was forty.

  Duncan’s chamber was huge, but it felt crowded when Theo entered. Large sweaty men milled and filled the space with furious energy. William had had time to return, smelling of dog and horse and bunching his fists as if ready to murder. Mr. Browne hovered over his prisoners. Jacques paced. A few of the more substantial tenants whispered nervously against the walls.

  Duncan had taken a chair at his writing desk and was irritably tapping his walking stick. At Theo’s entrance, he actually looked up as if he could see him.

  “It’s about time. I want these miscreants hanged.” Since Duncan couldn’t see the two crudely dressed ruffians cowering in the room’s center, tied hand and foot, he didn’t bother glancing at them.

  “You’re the magistrate,” Theo replied, studying the pair. “Is trespassing a hanging offense? Or were they the ones with the shotgun?” He knew they weren’t. He’d seen the rider wielding the weapon. He’d been a stout man with a barrel chest. These two were short and half-starved. And the gentleman in the tall hat leading the retreat—Roderick, no doubt—hadn’t been the shooter either.

  “We didn’t do nuffing!” the older one with a bristly reddish-gray stubble shouted.

  “Well, fine,” Theo said equitably. “Then tell us who shot my wife and we’ll just charge you with trespass.”

  “Big bloke,” the younger one said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Told us we was there to keep the peace. He was afraid you’d have guards. Warn’t nobody supposed to get shot.”

  “You simply rode onto private property under the instruction of a complete stranger without question?” Theo asked in disbelief. Duncan was the one who should have been conducting this interview, but these imbeciles had caused Aster to climb a damned roof! Theo wanted to shake the pair until their teeth rattled and information spilled out.

  “He gave us coins and said a lady was in danger and we was to rescue her,” the older explained. “But then he and the gent got to arguing as we rode, and there was talk of witches back in the tavern, and we got kind of nervous like.”

  “Did anyone go after Montfort?” Duncan asked in a voice of menace.

  “We sent men over to his estate to keep an eye on him,” Mr. Browne said. “We didn’t see him on the road.”

  “He’ll have cut across the field,” Duncan said in disgust. “Only people who don’t know the area stick to the main road.”

  “Which means their leader
knows our land,” Theo pointed out. “And Aster said someone else sent them here, the same someone who caused your horse to bolt to make it look like an accident.”

  That silenced the room. The prisoners began to squirm.

  “We don’t know nuffin’ ’bout that,” the older protested again. “We was just hired for the evenin’.”

  “As were the leaders of the rioters,” William said, speaking up. “They weren’t men from around here. Once we separated them from the crowd, the others protested about threshers and losing their jobs and were pacified when we told them to report to the office if they wanted work.”

  “And what became of the leaders of the rioters?” Duncan asked.

  “They were on horses,” William replied in disgust. “They got away. You think this was a conspiracy? The rioters and these dolts were working together?”

  “Looks like it. Lock this pair up. Let’s see if anyone comes looking for them.” Having made that decision, Duncan smacked his stick against the desk legs as if pondering his next move.

  Not so long ago, Ashford would have ridden into the village to question every man, woman, and child until he had answers. Theo couldn’t do that. Slumping against the wall, he let Browne and the farmers lead out their prisoners. Jacques and William stayed behind.

  “Surround Montfort’s place,” Duncan ordered. “He’s our only lead. One assumes his father put him up to this. The pup wouldn’t stir a finger otherwise.”

  Theo reluctantly imparted his last piece of information. “I’m sorry, Dunc, but Aster said Montfort mentioned sending Margaret to lure her from the house. We have no way of knowing if Margaret would have known why, but it sounds as if her family might be involved too.”

  Duncan nodded. “Caldwell and I have been at odds for a long time. I just can’t imagine he or Montfort would act without some incentive and outside leadership. They complain, but they seldom act on their own initiative.”

  “Why would they go after Lady Aster?” Jacques demanded.