Читать книгу The Regency Bestsellers Collection - Bronwyn Scott - Страница 38

Chase sat at his desk with a tumbler of brandy, sorting through letters he’d received from the headmasters of England’s finest boarding schools for girls.

All acceptances, of course. The promise of a generous donation to the school worked wonders that way.

He was at a loss for the best criterion. Academic philosophy? Popularity with upper-crust families? Proximity to London or Belvoir?

By the time he’d sorted and re-sorted the letters four different ways, his quandary became clear. The question wasn’t how to choose where to send them.

The question was whether he could bear to send them at all.

He was drawn from his deliberation by footsteps pounding down the stairs. As he watched from his desk, a figure in white flew past, dark hair streaming behind it. The front door opened, and then banged shut. Either Alexandra had just bolted from the house, or a ghost was playing tricks.

Chase didn’t believe in ghosts.

He rose and followed her, walking out the door and into the brisk night air. “Alex?” He turned in every direction. No sight of her. He lifted his voice. “Alexandra.”

“I’m over here.”

The voice came from the green in the center of the square. It was only once he’d crossed the lane and run a fruitless scan of the garden that he pinpointed her location.

He found her by nearly tripping over her.

“Alex, what the hell are you doing lying in the grass in your night rail in the middle of the night?”

“The comet. This could be it.” She kicked at his boot. “Now kindly go back in the house. You’re blocking the sky.”

Instead, Chase lay down on his back beside her.

“I told you, go back in the house.”

“I’m not going to just leave you here.”

She shivered beside him. “As you like, then.”

“If this could be a comet, don’t you need the telescope?”

“Not for this part. It’s a definite smudge. It’s not among Messier’s objects, nor could I find it in my lists of identified comets. Now I need to watch it and see whether it moves in pace with the stars.”

“Which bit of sky are we watching?”

“Follow the line of my finger.” She leaned close and pointed her arm at the sky. “Do you see the three stars in a triangle? It’s that tiny blur just above the bottommost point. Do you see it?”

“I think so.”

In truth, Chase didn’t see anything other than the usual flurries of stars, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wanted to be part of this.

“How much time will it take for you to be certain?” he asked.

“A quarter hour, at least. Perhaps more.”

“I’ll make note of the time.” He opened the glass cover of his watch, gently skimming with his fingertips to take note of the hands’ positions.

They lay side by side in silence for what felt like an hour.

“How much time has elapsed?” she asked.

Chase consulted his timepiece, feeling around with his fingers. “I’m not certain. If I had to guess, I’d say . . . about three minutes.”

She moaned. “This is so nerve-racking.”

“You know what they say. A watched comet never moves.”

Another eternity passed. Perhaps they were up to five minutes now. He couldn’t bear the quiet tension.

“I have this nightmare,” he said. “It comes back again and again. It’s morning, and I’m standing in the nursery. All of us, looking down at the bed as usual. And I’m preparing to say something about the tragedy of pinworms, when I realize the hand in mine isn’t flesh and blood. It’s wood. Then I turn, and I realize I’m holding Millicent’s hand, and the body on the bed is Daisy’s.”

Alexandra’s hand slid into his, and he squeezed her fingers tight.

“She’s just lying there. Pale, unmoving. And there are buttons on her eyes. I start shouting at her. Shaking her little body. But I can’t move the buttons from her eyes to wake her, and then . . . Then the bed starts to change. Suddenly it’s gray and uneven. The paving stones of an alleyway. There’s blood pooling beneath her. I’m frantic to find the source, press my hand over the wound, but I can’t. It just keeps spreading. And then . . .”

“And then?”

“And then I wake up. Drenched in cold sweat.”

“Oh, Chase. I’m so sorry. That sounds terrifying.”

“It is terrifying. And even when I’ve awoken from it, and I know it’s only a dream, it doesn’t stop being terrifying. The fear only grows, and I know it’s because—” He paused to swallow hard. “I know it’s because I love them.”

She clasped his hand tight.

He swore. “I love those girls so damned much, Alex.”

“I know you do. I’ve known it for ages.”

“Yes, yes. You know everything.” He gave her a nudge. “The least you could do is wait until I’ve finished spilling the entirety of my heart on the grass. Then you can gloat over it.”

“I am duly chastened. Please continue.”

“Between the fear and the fondness, it keeps getting worse. One feeds the other. The very idea of seeing them hurt—not being able to help—scares the shite out of me.”

“I’m fairly certain that’s natural.”

“And it’s not only the accidents and illnesses. It’s everything. Rosamund’s ten. What do I do if she tells me she fancies a boy? Worse, what if a boy takes a fancy to her?” A fresh possibility struck him, and it was the most horrifying by far. “Good God, what the hell will I do the first time she gets her courses?”

Alex laughed.

“Don’t laugh. I’m being serious here. I don’t trust myself to be a competent guardian. How can I? If I were someone else, I wouldn’t trust me, either.”

“Well, I trust you to be an excellent guardian. That’s the honest truth. Because I love Rosamund and Daisy, too, and I couldn’t bear to leave them at summer’s end if I didn’t trust you completely. Does that help?”

“A bit.”

It would help a great deal more if she wasn’t going to leave at summer’s end. Or if she wasn’t going to leave at all.

“Chase.” She clutched his arm, as if she’d suddenly recalled the reason they were lying in the grass in the middle of the square at midnight. “Has it been a quarter hour, do you think?”

He felt for his timepiece. “More than that.”

“Oh, no. I’ve lost track of the smudge.”

“The sky’s only so big. It can’t have gone far.”

“Shush.” She held her breath, studying the darkness overhead. “Oh. There it is. Chasing Altair now.” She rose to her feet, leaving him sitting befuddled and alone in the grass.

“Wait,” he called after her. She was halfway back to the house already. “Is that good or bad? What does Altair mean?”

“In Arabic, it means ‘flying eagle.’” She reached the front door, and turned to answer him. “In practical terms at the moment? It means I must go to the Royal Observatory, at once.”

From there, the race was on.

Chase scrambled to his feet and followed her into the house.

She turned to him. “Where do you think I could find a hackney at this time of night?”

“A hackney? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll order the carriage. Go and change into something warmer, and I’ll meet you in front.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“I’m sure as hell not letting you go alone. All the way to Greenwich in the middle of the night?”

“What about the girls?”

“I’ll let Mrs. Greeley know we’ve gone out. She’ll watch them. We’ll be home before they wake tomorrow morning.” He took her by the shoulders. “Go upstairs. Fetch your boots and your wrap. Leave the rest to me.”

She nodded. “All right.”

“I’ll go down and tell the coachman we’re for Greenwich.”

“Wait,” she said decisively. The fog around her mind appeared to have lifted. “Tell him we’re going to Billingsgate docks.”

“Billingsgate docks?”

“Yes.” She drew a breath. “We must take a boat.”

“Are you mad? I’m not putting you on a boat. Not after what you told me about the shipwreck, and losing your father, and drifting about the ocean alone with no food and water for days.”

“I know what I told you, Chase. This is not the time to rattle through the horrid details. The roads are too dark at night to travel swiftly by carriage. Taking a boat is the fastest way. If we don’t arrive in Greenwich before the comet dips below the horizon, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow night to have it verified. If we wait, it might be raining or foggy. Some other observer might claim it first. I don’t want to take the risk.”

“Very well. If you’re certain.”

She nodded. “I think I can do it.” Her eyes briefly closed, and her hands clenched in fists. “No, I know I can do it. So long as you’re with me.”

Oh, I’ll be with you. Just you try to get away. “You’ll be safe, Alex. I’d say you have my word on it, but as little as that’s worth, it scarcely feels worth offering.” He stared solemnly into her eyes. “I’d part with my life before I let you go.”

I can do this, Alex told herself. I can, I can, I can.

It had been easier to believe that at the house. Now that she stood on the dock, it was proving more difficult to actually go through with the decision. The last time she’d stood on these docks, she’d fallen into the Thames, and her livelihood had slipped from her grasp.

But if that hadn’t happened, she wouldn’t be here with Chase tonight.

Chase joined her, having finished making arrangements with whichever boatman he’d roused from his sleep. “We’ll be under way in a trice. He’s just readying the skiff.”

“You hired a skiff?” She’d been expecting a wherry.

“There’s a breeze tonight. Sails are faster than oars.”

Yes, but oars felt a great deal safer.

She looked down at the river. The Thames flowed like a river of ink beneath them, dark and silent. Ominous.

“You can still change your mind,” he said.

She shook her head. “You sent the carriage on without us.”

“So I can hire another.”

“No. We’ll take the skiff.”

This night, this journey—it was what she’d been working toward all this time. She wasn’t going to allow irrational fears to stand between her and that goal.

Chase boarded the craft first, then extended a hand to help her do the same. The closer she inched toward the edge of the dock, the more furiously her heart thrashed about her chest. Her tongue felt coated in sand.

“Don’t look at the water, Alex. Look at me.”

She obeyed. What with the darkness, the black of his pupils had swallowed up all of the dazzling green. There was no charm in his gaze; only sincerity.

“Take my hand,” he said, “and I promise I won’t let go.”

She reached out to him. His hand took hers, and the clasp felt natural, easy. After all, they’d been holding hands every morning for weeks.

His other hand gripped her forearm, and he helped her into the boat. She made an ungainly landing in the craft, and the skiff rocked to and fro. Panic fluttered in her chest, but it didn’t have the chance to grow proper wings. Chase caught her by the waist and tugged her down onto the bench. His arm slid around her back, drawing her close.

The boatman pushed away from the pier.

And then they were drifting. Bobbing on the waves, unmoored.

“I have you,” Chase murmured in her ear.

“I know.” Her dry throat worked to swallow. “I know.” She twisted her hands together in her lap. “I shouldn’t get my hopes up. There are so many observers not only in England, but on the Continent. Really, what are the chances I spotted it first?”

“Slim, I’d imagine.”

“And that’s if it’s a comet at all. I could be wrong.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Exactly. So this will probably come to nothing anyway.”

He nodded. “You’re probably right.”

She looked askance at him. He wasn’t supposed to be agreeing with her.

“I mean, what kind of career plan is comet hunting?” he scoffed. “Not a very realistic one.”

She stiffened. “It is a realistic one, even if it’s uncommon.”

“Oh, truly. Name one woman who actually makes her living as an astronomer.”

“Miss Caroline Herschel.”

“Fine. Name two women who make their living as astronomers.”

“Miss Caroline Herschel and Mrs. Margaret Bryan. And if you require three, Mrs. Mary Somerville, by way of mathematics,” she replied hotly. “That’s only in Britain. Gottfried Kirch in Germany had three sisters and a wife, all of whom were astronomers. In France, you have Marie-Jeanne de Lalande, and Louise du Pierry taught astronomy at the Sorbonne. Shall I continue?”

“Please do,” he said. “Twenty more, and perhaps I’ll be convinced.”

Alex bit off her reply. The amused gleam in his eyes gave him away. “You’re doing this on purpose. Starting an argument to distract me.”

He didn’t deny it. “It seems to be working.”

A wave lifted the boat, and then dropped it just as suddenly.

Alex’s stomach pitched and rolled. She turned to bury her face in his chest, but her forehead plunked against something solid.

“Sorry. I’d forgotten that was there.” He reached into his coat and withdrew a flask—a significantly larger one than he usually carried. He offered it to her. “Here, it’s for you.”

“That’s kind of you, but I don’t think I could stomach any brandy right now.”

“No, no. It’s water. Thought you might need it.” He pressed the flask into her hands. Keeping one arm lashed about her waist, he used his free hand to unscrew the silver cap before tucking it away in his pocket. “There. Take a good draught.”

She stared at the glimmering silver, too overwhelmed to speak.

For thirteen years, she’d avoided boats. She’d taken the long way around so many times, spending countless hours and precious shillings to quiet her fears. She’d confined herself to England, making her home in an unfamiliar country rather than returning to the homeland of her father or her mother. Insurmountable terror had made her its captive.

Now, at long last, she’d faced the fear and embarked on this most terrifying of journeys . . . only to find the purest, most perfect safety she’d ever known.

Oh, how she loved this man.

Alex wasn’t thirsty any longer, but she held on to his flask for the remainder of their short voyage, keeping both hands wrapped about the cool silver. She traced the monogram with her fingertip over and over, following the dips and loops of the engraved scrollwork R.

When they reached Greenwich, she handed it back. “Thank you.”

He capped the flask and tucked it away. “You’re even braver than you are beautiful.” He kissed her on the forehead. “And though I’ve no right to be, I’m excessively proud.”

Then he picked her up by the waist, sweeping her off her feet and lifting her onto solid ground.

Alex was dizzied, in many, many ways.

“Now,” he said, turning away from the river. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The observatory, of course.”

Oh. Oh, yes. That was the reason they’d come, wasn’t it?

“Up,” she replied. “It’s up.”

“When you said ‘up,’” Chase said between panting breaths, “you truly meant up.”

Good God. From the riverbank, there were stairs leading up to a green. The green became a gentle, grassy slope. Which turned into a miserably steep grassy slope. And then there were yet more stairs.

“It’s an astronomical observatory.” She held her skirts gathered as she trudged uphill, to avoid tripping on the hem. “Naturally it’s on the highest ground.”

When at last they reached the observatory doors, however, Alexandra hesitated.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m afraid to knock. What if they’re sleeping?”

“I should think an astronomical observatory is one place where you can arrive at midnight and not be concerned about waking the occupants.”

“Then what if they’re busy?”

Chase could have reached out and knocked on the door himself, but he held off. “You belong here, Alex. Discoveries like yours are precisely why a Royal Observatory exists, and a passion for those discoveries is why the royal astronomer does his work.” He swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “There is no place you belong more than right here, right now.”

She nodded, then knocked at the door.