ROWAN CLIMBED into the carriage and motioned Violet after him. “Hurry, it’s dark already.”
“The sky isn’t going away.” Still shaking her head at his astonishing change of heart, Violet shrugged into the forest green velvet cloak offered by her mother. “Where’s Margaret?”
“I gave her the evening off, dear. Hilda and Harry will be there. And Lord Lakefield is a gentleman. I’m sure we can trust him to behave.”
Especially with the likes of me, Violet thought, biting her lip. That old, familiar truth seemed suddenly distressing.
“I’ve instructed Willets to come back for you at ten,” Mum added. “Two hours ought to be plenty long enough to stare at the sky.”
Violet looked up. Except for a milky blur, she’d never seen the stars. “I wonder what I might see there?”
“The stars are beautiful,” her mother said. “Like diamonds sparkling on a black velvet gown.”
Smiling at the extravagant description, Violet gazed at the heavens. She wondered if the stars really twinkled, and if she might be able to wish on one. Excitement fluttered in her stomach.
“I’ll be off, then, Mum.” She kissed her mother’s floral-scented cheek and followed Rowan into the carriage.
A short while later they mounted Lakefield House’s steps. Rowan didn’t hide behind Violet this time. Jewel opened the door before Violet could lift the knocker, but Violet had anticipated that and didn’t fall into the house.
Which was rather a pity, since Ford was there to catch her.
He was still wearing the fancy suit, making her feel underdressed in her simple cotton gown. But that was absurd—she’d only come to look at the sky.
Instead of ushering her in, he stepped outside, a bit too close for her comfort. “I have the telescope set up in the garden,” he said. “Follow me.”
For such a tall fellow, he moved with grace. As he headed down the steps, she realized she’d stopped breathing.
She commanded herself to inhale.
This was really getting ridiculous.
He was just a gentleman, nothing more. She couldn’t remember ever being so nervous around one, but perhaps that was because she’d done an admirable job of avoiding them altogether. Surely this discomfort would disappear once she got to know him better. Which she seemed destined to do should Rowan have his way.
Holding a torch, Ford led her around the side of the house and down a path toward an area so overgrown she’d be loath to call it a garden. More like a jungle, she thought, hiding a smile.
The children tagged along behind, their voices coming out of the darkness. “Are you angry with me?” Jewel asked Rowan.
He seemed to consider for a moment. “Will you help me plan a jest on my sisters?”
“Of course I will.”
“Then I’m not angry.”
Listening to the exchange, Violet made a mental note to be on the alert for “jests.” If Rowan thought gluing someone to a chair was excusable, heaven only knew what he and Jewel would come up with together.
In the midst of a tangle of vines sat a ring of scraggly hedges. Ford guided the group through an opening in the greenery. A new one, from the looks of it.
“Uncle Ford hacked at the plants with an ax today,” Jewel proudly informed them. “After Harry came back and said you would come. Wasn’t that nice?”
Violet thought she heard Ford emit a strange sound.
A circle of wooden benches looked newly uncovered as well. Apparently he’d been busy. In the center, atop a stone sundial, a long tube sat balanced on three spindly legs.
Ford gestured at it with a flourish. “The telescope.”
“How nice,” she replied, hoping she sounded suitably impressed. But the telescope wasn’t exactly awe-inspiring. It was just a skinny, tarnished thing. Her hopes plummeted. This hardly looked like an object that could work magic.
He set the torch in a nearby stand. “Quarter moon tonight,” he said, grasping the tube and maneuvering it to point in the moon’s direction.
Curious, Violet moved closer. Over the fresh scent of recently cut plant life, she could smell something spicy. And a trace of scented soap. Patchouli, she decided, recalling the aroma from one of her mother’s vials. Some years ago, Father had arranged for a number of the minty shrubs to be brought from India. He’d planted them in his magnificent garden so Mum could distill the leaves.
“A partial moon is fortunate for viewing.” Ford had closed one eye and focused the other through the tube. “A full moon can be too bright and make the stars around it fade.” He made a final adjustment. “Would you like to see?”
“Me first!” Jewel said.
Rowan jumped up and down. “No, me!”
Jewel stepped in front of him. “Me!”
“Well, normally I’d say ladies first,” Ford said, clearing his throat, ”but seeing as how Rowan suffered this afternoon, I think he should have the first peek. Hurry, though, or you won’t be able to see it.”
Since Rowan was too short, Ford lifted him to the eyepiece. “Zounds,” Rowan breathed. “There are big, dark spots on it.”
“They’re called craters.” Ford raised a foot to the pedestal of the sundial, settling Rowan on his knee with an ease that drew Violet’s scrutiny. She’d never imagined someone as vain and preoccupied with himself as the viscount would behave so naturally with children. ”What do you think of it?”
“I wish to fly up there and visit.”
“Me, too.” Ford laughed. “But I expect neither of us will get our wish.”
Now Jewel was jumping up and down. “I want to see. Oh, please let me see!”
“Very well.” Ford set Rowan down, then readjusted the telescope before lifting his niece. “Hurry, so Lady Violet can have a turn.”
“Oooh,” Jewel said.
“Why must she hurry?” Violet wondered. “The moon stays out all night.”
“Yes, but the Earth moves, you see—it spins. That’s why we have night and then day. And because of the spinning, we’re moving relative to the moon, so it doesn’t stay in the telescope’s sight for very long.” He set his niece on her feet and waved Violet toward the instrument. “Your turn.”
She stepped forward and put one eye to the end, closing her other eye like he had. “Oh,” she breathed. “Stars. Just look at all those stars.”
“Can you see the moon, too?”
“No, we must have spun out of range like you said.” Against black velvet, lights winked at her. White, and faint yellow, and the palest, most beautiful pink. A wonderland of stars.
“Let me adjust it for you.”
“Wait.” She was looking at a whole new world. Or a universe, to be more precise. “I’ve seen the moon,” she told him. “Not up close, but at least I’ve seen it. I want to look at the stars.”
“But they don’t look much different through the telescope. They’re much too far away for the magnification to make a significant difference.”
“But they’re beautiful,” she said. “Miraculous. What are they, really?”
“Other suns. And some people think there are other planets around them, the same way our planet circles our sun.”
The children were chattering behind her, probably planning an outrageous jest, but she couldn’t stop staring. She nudged the telescope a bit, and another group of stars burst into view. “‘There is an infinite number of worlds,’” she murmured softly under her breath, “‘some like this world, others unlike it.’”
“A lovely way to put it.”
Startled, she jerked back from the eyepiece. She hadn’t meant for him to hear that. “I didn’t put it that way myself. I was quoting Epicurus.”
“Who?”
“A Greek philosopher.”
She felt, rather than saw, him nodding beside her. “A forward-thinking man.”
A smile twitched on her lips. “Very. He lived about three hundred years before Jesus Christ came to Earth.” She leaned close again, peering through the telescope. “Do you believe that there are other planets?”
He laid a hand on her back. A warm hand that made a warmer shiver ripple through her. “I do.”
Giggles erupted behind them.
“My uncle thinks your sister is pretty,” Jewel told Rowan in a loud, confidential whisper.
Rowan’s response was a disgusted groan.
Violet stiffened, and Ford’s hand dropped from her back. “So,” he said a bit formally. “Should I adjust it on the moon?”
“In a minute.” Of course he hadn’t meant anything by touching her, Violet told herself—he was a flirt, just like his niece. The awkward moment passed as she refocused on the sky. “For now, I’m enjoying the stars.”
Just then, one of them streaked across her field of vision, and she made a silent wish.
Give me the wisdom to write something worth reading…and the tenacity to publish it.
Her first wish on a star.
“Oh,” she breathed, “it’s magnificent.”
Hearing the wonder in Violet’s voice, Ford relaxed and decided to ignore his niece’s careless comment. Violet probably hadn’t even heard; her velvet cloak had slipped to the ground, and she’d not yet bothered to reach for it. He stared at her arched back, encased in a snug green bodice. Simple and practical, but it didn’t hide the distinctly feminine figure underneath. Had she been wearing the same gown earlier today? He hadn’t paid any attention.
Pretty or not, Lady Violet was even odder than he’d thought. She was still gaping at the sky, slowly shifting the telescope. “Wouldn’t you like to see the moon now?” he asked. After all, the stars looked much the same through the telescope as without it.
“Lord Lakefield.” Rowan tugged on his breeches. “Lord Lakefield.”
“You may have another turn in a minute. For now, your sister’s looking.”
“I know.” When Ford looked down, the boy’s smile looked as wide as the telescope was long. “Violet’s never seen the stars before.”
“Never?” Baffled, he ran a hand through his hair. “What do you mean?”
“She cannot see very well. She says they all just blur together.”
She straightened and turned to face them, her eyes glittering with joy in the torchlight. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for showing me a whole new world.”
The way she said it made Ford feel like he had given her the world, not just shown it to her.
The feeling was not unpleasant.
He eased her aside to adjust the telescope. “Here, now look at the moon.”
When she leaned to peer through the lens, he was rewarded with a gasp of discovery. “It’s a sphere,” she said. “I can see the outline. Even though it looks like a crescent.”
“Depending on our position, the Earth blocks part of the sun, so only a portion of the moon is illuminated. But it’s always a sphere, no matter how it appears to us.”
“Of course. I’ve just never thought of it before.”
When the moon disappeared from view, he pointed out some constellations—Libra down near the horizon and Pegasus up higher.
“My turn!” Rowan said, and Jewel chimed in. “Let us have a turn!”
Clearly reluctant to relinquish the instrument, Violet stepped back, and the children rushed to see.
“Can you show us a planet?” Jewel asked.
Ford scanned the dark sky. “None are visible at the moment. Another night.” But he showed them more constellations, and while they waited to take turns, he entertained them with the Greek and Roman myths that went with each configuration.
All too soon they heard the crunch of wheels on gravel announcing the Ashcrofts’ carriage had arrived. Violet let out a little unladylike groan. “Is it ten o’clock already?”
“May we come back tomorrow?” Rowan asked. “Can I go into the laboratory?”
Ford gazed at Violet, thinking about how the telescope had helped her to see, wondering if there might be a way to help her more permanently. “I’ve something that will keep me busy the next few days,” he said slowly.
“In your laboratory?” Rowan asked.
“Yes.” He turned to the boy. “If you’ll come to play with Jewel until I’m done, I’ll take you into the laboratory after I finish. We can do an experiment together.”
“An experiment?” Rowan’s eyes widened, and he did a funny little dance. “Can we really?”
“Will you be working on the watch?” Jewel asked.
“No, not the watch.” That could wait—it had waited ages already. Suddenly this new idea seemed much more important.
“Uncle Ford is making a special watch,” Jewel told her new friends. “One that tells the minutes.” She looked to Violet. “My Uncle Ford is very clever.”
“I’m sure he is.” Violet smiled at Ford, a smile that managed to transform her whole face. “Thank you for a fine evening.”
“You’re very welcome. I hope we can do this again.” Surprised by just how true that statement was, he smiled in return as he retrieved her cloak and settled it over her shoulders.
If she’d noticed she’d dropped it, or that she’d almost forgotten it altogether, her demeanor gave nary a clue. “I hope we can do it again, too,” she said with a last, lingering glance at the telescope. As she took her brother’s hand and began tugging him toward the carriage, that infectious smile still curved her lips.
It felt good, knowing he was the cause of that smile. Wanting to give rise to another one soon, Ford hoped he’d prove as clever as his niece thought.
As he watched the carriage roll away into the night, he lifted Jewel into his arms and pecked her on the cheek.
“What was that for?” she squealed.
“Nothing, baby.” It mystified him as much as her, but he would analyze the impulse later. “I just feel happy.”
“I’m not a baby,” she said. “Put me down.”
But she planted a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek before he did so.