by Deb Marlowe
“I’ll hear no more about the theater!” Lady Tillney called as she swept out of the room. “We’re going to Lord Dayle’s ball. Fetch your wrap.”
Jane rose languidly. Two days had passed since Lord Worthe had kissed her so beautifully—and she’d had no word since. Sighing, she took her cloak from the maid. Perhaps she would look for a German prince tonight.
She’d worn her best, a jeweled ivory satin over a brilliant green under dress. For naught, it would seem. She fought back tears as she started down the stairs.
“Good evening.”
Jane gasped. He was here at last, looking dashing in evening finery, standing in the entry below and smiling up at her. An unfamiliar lady, decked in jewels, waited behind him.
“I wondered if you would mind changing your plans?” He shot her a grin. “I understand there is a very fine play debuting tonight in Sadler’s Wells.”
“Who’s this? What’s this?” Her mother came up behind her and called down to her father, who hovered in the open doorway to his study. “Who are these people, Tillney? Send them off. We’re for Lord Dayle’s ball.”
“Oh, do hush, Cassandra,” the strange lady called out.
“Your mother?” Jane asked.
Worthe nodded and her smile grew even wider.
Lady Tillney pushed past her, peering downward. “Minerva Hampton? Is that you? Whatever are you up to now?”
“It is I. We can discuss how long it has been later. Right now I believe my son is about to propose to your daughter. Let’s allow them to get to it, shall we?”
“Your son!” the baroness gasped in horror. Then understanding dawned, or she must have suddenly recalled her Debrett’s. “Oh, your son the viscount!” She hurried down the rest of the stairs. “Welcome, my lord!” She’d flipped from horror to ecstasy without a hitch. “I suppose we might consider attending the theater this evening.”
He nodded to her and then stepped around her, stopping at the bottom step and holding out a hand.
Jane came down, stopped on the last stair and took it. “Is that why you’ve come?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’m afraid I’ve made a couple more miscalculations.”
She bit back a smile. “Surely you don’t need me to fix them.”
“But I do.” He lifted his hand and touched her cheek. “I miscalculated how important it is that I see these stars every morning when I awake.”
She frowned. “Stars?”
He grinned. “The constellation Andromeda. The princess, in fact, etched very finely in freckles across your lovely nose and onto those soft cheeks.”
Her hand flew to her face. “I’ve always hated those freckles!”
“Well, you’ll have to stop that, as of right now.” His tone had gone low. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss where his finger had just been.
Behind him, her father cleared his throat.
“Yes.” Worthe straightened. “There’s also another worrisome number plaguing me, almost beyond calculation.”
She took his other hand, clasped them both to her bosom. “And what is that?”
“It’s the sheer number of hours, days, months and years I would be miserable without you.” His mouth twisted. “If I promise to look up from my telescope when you prod me, to allow you to check all of my calculations before I send them out, if I vow to make your search for those in need as important as my search of the stars, then will you make a connection with me?”
Tears rose in her eyes as she nodded her agreement. “Yes, Lord Worthe. I will.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “Let’s start our own constellation, shall we?”
He pulled her close. “I don’t know what shape it shall take, but I know it will shine bright.”
Author’s Note
Astronomy was becoming more popular during this period of the Regency. William and Caroline Herschel were two of the well-known scientists working in the field. Clubs and societies were springing up and people were applying developments in other fields such as math, physics and chemistry to their understanding of the universe.
In truth, though, the first recorded mathematical computations of the variations in Uranus’s orbit did not come until nearly thirty years later. They led to the discovery of the planet Neptune. I hope the reader will forgive me. I felt that giving Jane and Worthe their HEA warranted a little fudging of dates.
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author Deb Marlowe adores History, England and Men In Boots. Clearly she was destined to write Regency Historical Romance.
A Golden Heart winner and Rita Nominee, Deb grew up in Pennsylvania with her nose in a book. Luckily she’d read enough romances to recognize a true modern hero she met a college Halloween party—even though he wore a tuxedo t-shirt instead of breeches and boots. They married, settled in North Carolina and produced two handsome, intelligent and genuinely amusing boys. Though she spends much of her time with her nose in her laptop, for the sake of her family she does occasionally abandon her inner world for the domestic adventure of laundry, dinner and carpool. Despite her sacrifice, none of the men in her family are yet willing to don breeches or tall boots. She’s working on it.
Thank you so much for reading A Slight Miscalculation! I hope you enjoyed it. If you would like to be notified when my next book is released, you can sign up for my newsletter at www.DebMarlowe.com
Don’t Miss the Other Books in the Half Moon House Series:
Series
The Novels:
The Love List
The Leading Lady
and
coming soon:
The Lady’s Legacy
The Novellas:
An Unexpected Encounter
A Slight Miscalculation
Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness
A Waltz in the Park
Beyond a Reasonable Duke
