“Margaret tried to scare her away earlier,” Theo said, remembering the visit after the Maeve incident. An idea bubbled at the back of his mind that he was reluctant to voice. It wasn’t as if he understood why people did what they did. But almost losing Aster had shaken him out of his usual complacency. If he was to start believing her predictions . . .
Aster had said that allegiance led to accomplishment. “I think—and this is just a point worth pondering mind you—that they are trying to keep us from working together.”
Duncan’s stick quit spinning. Neither Jacques nor William interrupted, so Theo was forced to continue.
“We don’t work together,” Theo pointed out. “We each have our own interests and go our own ways and the estate pays us enough to do so. No one ever expected me to take over Duncan’s chores, no more than I expect anyone to take mine.”
“What does that have to do with Lady Aster?” Jacques asked, frowning.
“And Margaret,” Duncan said thoughtfully. “And maybe Theo’s ex-fiancée.”
Theo rubbed his brow. “I didn’t go after Celia when she ran. She had hysterics and I said good riddance and went back to my telescopes. Duncan practically shoved Margaret out the door. That’s what we do—ignore everything except our own selfish needs. Women won’t tolerate that.”
His brothers stared at him blankly, although in Duncan’s case, there could have been comprehension behind the blind stare. Theo couldn’t tell.
He grimaced and sought the right words. “Without women, we have no nucleus to orbit, no common objective to keep us together. The children have mothers and come and go, so they’re almost dispensable. But Aster . . .” Theo sighed and tried to straighten his thoughts. “Aster unites us somehow.”
“You think thugs figured that out?” William asked with a thick layer of skepticism.
“No,” Duncan said. “Margaret did. She’s known us all our lives. She would have complained about us to her father. Theo’s right. None of you has any interest in the estate. My enemies would naturally have thought that if they brought me down, no one would pick up the reins. But Theo not only picked them up, he brought in reinforcements. The house filled with women. We started hiring servants. The lot of you were all over London hunting carpets to please Aster, for pity’s sake! Even Pascoe came down for the tea party. She united us.”
They all fell silent, contemplating this message.
“The Greeks said ‘United we stand, divided we fall,’” Jacques acknowledged. “The Bible says much the same. That’s smart of Margaret, if you’re right that she figured out that we were easily divided. Instead of fighting each other, we need to stand together to fight a common enemy.”
“But how do we do that?” Theo demanded.
“The estate funds all of us. Without the land, we wouldn’t have the wherewithal to explore other ventures,” William said. “Iveston is where we must stand together.”
“He’s right.” Duncan glanced up to Theo through unseeing eyes. “Give Aster full rein of the household. Let her turn this into a home where women and children are welcome, and the rest of us will follow. Give the family reason to defend our heritage.”
Because Duncan would never marry and provide the same, Theo recognized with sorrow.
Theo’s days of selfish pursuits were over. With Aster to show him the way, he thought he might enjoy the change.
Thirty-three
“I love you.”
Theo’s whisper tickled Aster’s ear and she shivered with desire. Unfortunately, all she could do in response was stroke his newly-cut brown hair where it flopped over his brow.
“I love your exotic nest,” he continued, pulling her closer despite the crowd of people watching them from the corner of their eyes. “And I want all these people to go home so I can show you how much I want you.”
Aster patted his starched white linen, leaned into his formal black frock coat, and muffled a laugh. He smelled of sandalwood and Theo, and she almost agreed to his disgraceful suggestion. “I love you and my nest, too, which is why all these people are here. You are famous. You will become more famous as you improve your telescopes and find more planets. These people will spread your fame and make your fortune. They will also take notice of your brothers—which is part of the point, isn’t it? To build Ives strength into a fortress as formidable as the Hall?”
She couldn’t see through the throng in her small parlor, but she knew Jacques was circulating, charming the ladies. William had refused to come to town, preferring to wait for country entertainments. Erran had been here earlier, but as the third son of a marquess, he didn’t have much more prestige than the illegitimate ones. That would change, Aster knew, but these things took time. Theo’s success was only a first step.
“Duncan should have been the one entertaining all these years, making these connections,” Theo griped, but he hugged Aster and sipped his brandy with appreciation.
“He prefers the country just as William does.” She was starting to understand the Ives brothers even better through living with them rather than just studying their charts. “It will all balance eventually now that our planets are moving out of the Mars conjunction.”
“I can’t think we’re safe if our enemies are still hidden.” Theo frowned as if he could discern their adversaries in the crowd. “The two thugs we captured had nothing useful to add about the ringleaders. I should have ridden after Montfort myself. We’ll never catch him in France.”
“Roderick was just a weak link. His father is probably more dangerous. If your brother’s opponents are political, let your Uncle Pascoe find them. He looks dangerous enough to eliminate crime in high places.” She watched Theo’s uncle work his way through the crowd of well-wishers, his dark gaze always wandering past whomever he was half-listening to.
Her elegant husband snorted most inelegantly. “He has given me an assortment of secret missives to take to your father on our wedding journey. They’ll out-conspire any amateur conspirators. Shouldn’t we go to bed early so we’ll be fresh for our travel in the morning?”
She laughed and slipped from Theo’s grasp to greet Jacques. “Have you charmed all the neighbors into helping care for my plants while we’re gone?”
“Your accommodating maids will do that,” Jacques said with a shrug and a deprecating grin. “But your neighbors may feed me. I appreciate being given run of the household but have no good way of paying you back.”
“You’ll owe us,” Theo said sternly. “We’ll collect someday.”
“Don’t go compromising my maids,” Aster said, equally sternly. “I have a reputation to uphold for good servants. It is the only way I’ll be able to staff the Hall.”
Jacques tilted his head with interest. “You both sound like Duncan. Is this what family togetherness will bring us?”
Aster smiled and hugged him. “And this.” She kissed his cheek. “And this.”
She indicated the party in her parlor. “And all this. With wealth, comes responsibility.”
Jacques rubbed his cheek and nodded. “That’s a nice trade. I’ll take it.” He held out his hand to shake Theo’s. “Find Duncan a wife just like yours, and we’ll be shaped up in no time.”
“That’s Aster’s department. And I don’t think anyone but you agrees that women are the answer,” Theo said, shaking on it. “Erran has his nose out of joint over his inability to attract women without funds, William has only one use for women, and you know Duncan can’t court anyone if he won’t leave the damned house.”
“Love will find a way,” Aster said with assurance. “I’ll have the servants clear the buffet. That should send your guests out the door, so if there is anyone with whom you wish to speak, do so now.”
“Does that mean we can go upstairs soon?” Theo whispered hopefully as Jacques hurried off.
“Soon, and I have a surprise for you, so be very polite to our guests until we reach our bed,” she replied with mischief, before departing to direct her army of servants and friends
.
***
Remembering the night months ago when she’d rode into a storm as the Prophetess of Doom, Aster almost wiggled with excitement as she handed the heavy sheet of vellum to her beautifully naked husband. She hadn’t been able to wait until they were in bed to present his wedding gift.
“I am now the Prophetess of Boons,” she declared happily. “Or maybe the Prophetess of Good Fortune, what do you think?” Wearing a whisper-thin night shift, she climbed into the small bed they would need to replace to accommodate Theo’s large frame.
Eagerly, she studied her husband’s usually non-expressive face as he read her father’s letter. His ambiguously blue-gray eyes lit with inner fires, and his lips curved upward in a rare grin. He stared at the paper, then at her, and back down again.
“Really? Your father won’t take this back if we must cut our visit short or he disagrees with my politics?” He shook the letter in her direction as if daring her to deny the contents.
Aster fluffed her pillows against the headboard and settled back. She noted with gratitude that Theo’s attention instantly diverted from the letter to her breasts. She had never been particularly grateful for her plumpness until Theo landed in her life.
“My father has already transferred the funds,” she told him. “He knows I won’t renege on my promise to journey north. My mother is deliriously planning parties and dinners and probably slaughtering a fatted calf. My siblings are no doubt bouncing off walls. You will have to endure utter familial chaos for weeks. I think my father’s settlement is barely payment enough for your suffering.” She grinned at his expression of dismay.
“For this . . .” Theo took a deep breath and reverently lay the letter on the desk before climbing in beside her. He pressed a fervent kiss against her brow. “I will be able to build the observatory and buy that small estate farm to put it on. It has a farmhouse, and a clear view of the night sky. And I never thought I’d earn enough to actually buy land.”
He sprawled across the sheets and dragged her on top of him. Aster covered his jaw in kisses and began nibbling his ears as he stroked her, his thoughts obviously still half in the stars.
“My father believes you’re taking me firmly in hand and showing me it’s nonsense to stay away from my family.” She bit his ear a little harder. “He approves. And really, I’m worth every penny of that dowry.”
Theo laughed and pulled her closer, now fully engaged. “You are, and more. Half of it will go into a trust for you and any children, as will the land. I can earn the rest. Duncan is paying me well to handle his duties, and the telescopes will be selling soon. But I married you for your real worth, not for your father’s wealth. You are more valuable than the crown jewels. I cannot believe my good fortune.”
“Prophetess of Good Fortune it is, then,” she murmured as he flipped her back to the mattress and began kissing all the places where she’d sewn stars on her nightshift. “I do love an observant man,” she said with a sigh of pleasure as he found one over her breast.
“And I do love a woman who brings the stars down to earth just for me.” Theo raised up and covered her mouth with his, stealing the breath from her lungs.
Copyright & Credits
Magic in the Stars
The Unexpected Magic Series, Book 1
Patricia Rice
Copyright © 2016 Patricia Rice
ISBN: 978-1-61138-577-9
First Publication: Book View Café, March 29, 2016
Published by Rice Enterprises
Dana Point, CA
Cover design by Killion Group
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, in any form.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Digital edition: 20160110vnm
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With several million books in print and New York Times and USA Today's bestseller lists under her belt, former CPA Patricia Rice is one of romance's hottest authors. Her emotionally-charged contemporary and historical romances have won numerous awards, including the RT Book Reviews Reviewers Choice and Career Achievement Awards. Her books have been honored as Romance Writers of America RITA® finalists in the historical, regency and contemporary categories.
A firm believer in happily-ever-after, Patricia Rice is married to her high school sweetheart and has two children. A native of Kentucky and New York, a past resident of North Carolina and Missouri, she currently resides in Southern California, and now does accounting only for herself. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Authors Guild, and Novelists, Inc.
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Also by Patricia Rice
The World of Magic:
The Unexpected Magic Series
Magic in the Stars
Whisper of Magic
Theory of Magic
The Magical Malcolms Series
Merely Magic
Must Be Magic
The Trouble With Magic
This Magic Moment
Much Ado About Magic
Magic Man
The California Malcolms Series
The Lure of Song and Magic
Trouble with Air and Magic
The Risk of Love and Magic
Historical Romance:
The Rebellious Sons
Wicked Wyckerly
Devilish Montague
Notorious Atherton
Formidable Lord Quentin
The Regency Nobles Series
The Genuine Article
The Marquess
English Heiress
Irish Duchess
Mysteries:
Family Genius series
Evil Genius
Undercover Genius
Cyber Genius
Excerpt: Whisper of Magic
Unexpected Magic, Book 2
Patricia Rice
Copyright © 2016 Patricia Rice
First Publication: Book View Cafe, May 2016
September 1830
Hunting for dry ground for his polished Wellingtons, Erran didn’t see the mud ball flying out of the alley until it knocked his black beaver hat into a puddle. His ten-year-old nephew Hartley Ives-Weldon ran to rescue the expensive D’Orsay while Erran stalked into the mews in pursuit of the miscreants.
Bloody hell. These days, he kept his daunting voice to himself, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have fists to shake a few louts into next week. In the na
rrow mews, he caught sight of the troublemakers taunting a slender woman striding through the rutted mud. Realizing his hat hadn’t been their intended victim didn’t quell his temper. More mud splattered the woman’s long black wool cloak and hood as she marched toward the reprobates without flinching.
Abandoning his nephew, Erran ran after her, hoping to scare the ruffians off with his greater size. He hated his delusions about his voice, but he was taking no chances in a public venue. To this day, most of his friends steered clear of him.
And once he’d come to his senses, the judge had banned him from his courtroom.
“You will take your mud balls and run or the wrath of all the gods will rain upon your unworthy heads.” The woman berated her mockers in mellifluous accents that sounded more like song than curses.
The beauty of her voice almost made up for the damage to his new hat.
The rain of rocks and mud balls abruptly ceased. Stunned, Erran watched as the lads vanished into doorways and alleys—terrified by a song?
Apparently unsurprised by their retreat, the woman opened a service gate into the yard of one of the substantial houses lining the left side of the alley. Erran strained to catch a better look at the producer of such a marvelous sound, but she didn’t turn around. Instead, she slipped into the yard beyond the gate and shut the panel firmly.
Realizing what gate she’d just used—Erran would have flung his hat in a puddle again, if he’d been wearing it.
Bloody damn hell—he’d been trying to get into that house for a week. No one ever answered the door. He’d thought no one was home.
“Miss!” he called over solid English oak topped by wrought iron. He had learned to modulate his voice, but making it carry would require shouting if she got too far away. “Miss, if I might speak with you!”
For a moment, the black cloak hesitated. A head turned, and over the top of the gate, he caught a glimpse of an oval face tinted by the rich hues of a tropical sun, long black lashes, and a frown. Then she hastened her pace and vanished behind a hedge of greenery.
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