They passed the front iron fence and took the steps up to the ground floor. Celeste noted the tall sash windows and decorative detail above them on the first floor. Obviously, the owner was of some means. She knocked, confident that she should be at the front door — she was hardly a servant, was she?
A man who appeared to be a butler, though young by most servants’ standards, answered the door. When his eyes passed over Celeste, coming to rest on Sophia, Celeste turned to her maid, curious as to what had captured his attention. Sophia was a pretty thing, that was for certain, though Celeste had never stopped to assess just how she must appear to men of the opposite sex.
Noting her maid’s blush and shy smile at the butler’s appraising perusal, Celeste now wondered if Sophia’s day might not be quite as boring as she had suggested.
The butler finally returned his attention to her.
“May I help you, miss?”
“Miss Keswick. Yes. I am here to speak with Lord Sussex regarding a position as his assistant.”
The butler frowned, seemingly confused. “You are here to speak on behalf of the gentleman who would be working as his lordship’s assistant?”
“Ah…” Celeste said, her face flushing. Apparently, her brother hadn’t mentioned the fact that she was a woman. How very like Nicholas. Well, that answered one of her questions. She sighed, wondering if she was going to be turned away before she even met the astronomer. “There is no gentleman. I am the one who would be the assistant.”
“You?”
“Me.”
She stared at the butler, locked in a silent battle of wills. He flicked his gaze over to Sophia, who smiled at him encouragingly. He shrugged. “Very well. I suppose this is for my employer to decide.”
“Agreed,” Celeste said with a nod as he led her into the foyer. The townhouse was decorated simply yet elegantly. Celeste wondered if the astronomer was married and what his wife would think of a female assistant. Probably not very much. She bit her lip.
“My employer awaits you in his study,” the butler said as they continued down the hall. “Although, seeing as you are a young woman...”
“My maid will accompany me as chaperone.”
“Very well,” he said, stopping in front of a closed door. He placed his hand on the doorknob. “Oh, and Miss Keswick?”
“Yes?”
“You have my employer’s name wrong. It is not Lord Sussex. His name is Lord Essex.”
“Lord Essex?”
“Yes?” Oliver looked up from the paper in front of him.
“Your, ah, appointment is here. The interview for your assistant?”
“Right,” he mumbled, so engrossed in his work he hardly looked up. “Send him in, Woodward.”
“My lord…”
“Yes?”
“He is a she.”
“What?”
At that, the door opened wider, and Woodward led in not one but two women. His jaw dropped open when he saw Celeste Keswick standing before him.
“Miss Keswick!” he exclaimed, standing himself quickly, as a rush of comprehension filled him. Suddenly, it all made sense. His fellow astronomer — he recalled his name now. Nicholas Keswick. Who had the same coloring as his sister, a woman whose face had been on Oliver’s mind ever since he had encountered her in Wyndham’s gardens. She had been fixated on the stars — an interest she must have picked up from her brother.
And now she was here to interview as his assistant. There was something altogether not quite right about this entire situation. Why would Keswick arrange for his sister to interview with him? And why would she want to work for him?
“Lord Essex,” she said, her hands clasped in front of her in an apparent attempt to cover her nervousness. Her cheeks were flushed, and she seemed to be looking everywhere but at him. “I must apologize,” she said. “My brother told me I was to come interview with a Lord Sussex. I had no idea that I would be coming to meet with you. I also would have thought that he would have made it clear that I was a woman, so you would know who to expect. I’m so very sorry, I—”
Sensing she needed to be put at ease, he motioned for her to sit in front of his desk. The second woman, who he assumed was her maid, took a seat in an armchair across the room — close enough to ensure Miss Keswick was chaperoned, but nearly out of hearing range.
“Well, it seems that we are both similarly surprised at our meeting,” he said with a bit of a laugh. “I knew that you were enamored with the stars, Miss Keswick, but I didn’t realize the extent of your interest.”
“Yes,” she said with a small smile. “I have been working with my brother for some time but he… is now going to be working with my father for the most part.”
“I see,” he said, rubbing his brow, wondering how he was going to tell her that this just wouldn’t work without hurting her feelings. The truth was, he knew there was no possible way he could work with Celeste Keswick. For she lit a fire within him — one he had been attempting to douse. To work closely with her, day in, day out — well, it would only fan the flames.
“What are you looking at?” she asked abruptly, and he looked down in front of him.
“This?” he asked, turning the pages around so that she could see. “They are from Alexis Bouvard. He has published—”
“Astronomical tables of the orbit of George’s Star,” she said, her eyes scanning them before she reached into the bag she had brought in with her. “I never thought to have them published.”
“What do you mean?”
She opened the bag, piling a great deal of papers on the desk in front of her. Suddenly his tidy desk was disorganized chaos, and yet, she seemed to know exactly what she was looking for.
“Here,” she said, pulling papers out from the middle. “I finished these last year.”
She turned them to him, and his eyes widened as he studied what was before him.
“Miss Keswick,” he said in astonishment, “these are exactly what Bouvard drew up. You say… you drew these?”
“Well, yes,” she said with a shrug. “I have been using them to study the orbit of George’s Star, and the problem is, it is simply not following the path it is supposed to be following.”
He nodded slowly. “A phenomenon I have been observing as well.”
“There are a few possible explanations,” she said, leaning forward with earnestness. “First—”
“It could be due to a lingering effect of the sun’s gravity,” he said, finishing her thought.
“Due to the planet’s great distance from the sun,” she continued, inclining her head, her green eyes shining as she looked at him. “The second hypothesis is that it is simply an observational error.”
“However, I hardly expect that to be so, when a fair number of astronomers have made the same observation,” he countered, to which she nodded.
“Then there is the third possibility,” she said, and by her look of determination, Oliver realized that this was what she believed, as he had come to as well.
“That all of the calculations and laws made by great minds are correct, and the truth is that there is an unknown quantity that we don’t yet know about.”
“That there is something,” she continued, “pulling or perturbing George’s Star off of its predicted orbit.”
“Something,” he said, his exhilaration growing at discussing this with someone who not only cared but who believed as he did, “like a planet.”
They stared at one another, smiles on their faces. Oliver hadn’t realized until now that through their discussion they had leaned into one another, growing closer and closer, their noses now but a few inches apart. He heard a noise from the corner and sat back suddenly, reason and longing at war within him.
If he needed any evidence as to why he should not hire Miss Keswick, this was it — she was far too great a temptation, made even more so by this shared passion for their studies. And yet… the thought that he could experience this work with someone who believed as he did was nearly
impossible to ignore.
He should say no. Tell her that he simply could not hire a young woman, especially one who was unattached, when he himself was betrothed to another.
Yet he was a man of science. A man who should be able to do all that was necessary in the name of furthering knowledge. The fact she was a woman shouldn’t matter. Some great scientific minds were female. Caroline Herschel, for example. Mary Sommerville. He should be able to ignore a few stirrings for Miss Keswick by keeping everything professional. Besides, she was chaperoned. What could possibly happen?
“Miss Keswick,” he said, making his decision with a grin, “when would you like to start?
She should decline — she really should.
There was so much to lose. Her reputation. Her professionalism. Worst of all, her heart. She already had stirrings of emotion toward this man following a few simple conversations. Now, knowing that he not only was an astronomer himself but also held the same theory as she did? Why, she was practically swooning at his feet.
To spend day in, day out with him, working in close quarters, knowing he would likely never think similarly of her… it was agony.
Besides that, her brother had sent her here to basically spy on the man. How could she take on the job knowing that Nicholas would be expecting her to report back with information — information that would mean betraying Lord Essex? She could never do such a thing.
He was looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.
“I…” I thank you Lord Essex, but I must refuse. Thank you for seeing me and I hope to meet you again one day. I wish you the very best in all of your endeavors from searching for the planet we both know must be there to wooing a very lucky woman one day. I am sorry, but my brother is attempting to use you. It was wrong of him, and wrong of me to come here.
She opened her mouth once more to deny him. She would say thank you, and then she and her maid would be on their way once more. This entire episode with Lord Essex would be nothing more than a memory.
“I will start as soon as you will have me.”
6
Oliver found himself impatiently awaiting the next day — a day that never should happen. He should never have offered the position to Miss Keswick. He could only imagine what Lady Venetia would say if she found out that his assistant was a woman, and a pretty one at that. Never mind that her maid would apparently be accompanying them — a gentleman spending such a great deal of time with a woman such as Miss Keswick was nearly unheard of, at least in polite circles.
Yes, it was true, there had been women who had worked with gentlemen before in such settings, but typically it was a sister, or when there were additional employees besides just the two of them.
Somehow, the entire situation seemed oddly orchestrated, and yet, Miss Keswick had seemed as greatly surprised as he when he had greeted her.
And it seemed that he had been interested in seeing her far more than he even realized, for the words had burst out of his mouth before he could even think of what he was saying.
It was because of their shared hypothesis regarding George’s Star and its perturbation, Oliver told himself, and nothing more. Besides, that was all it could be.
He had to stop himself from checking the front window to see if she had arrived when one o’clock, their agreed upon hour, struck the next day. They would start with four hours the first day, he had told her. Then they would decide day to day what would be best, for at times, they would need darkness. He massaged one temple as he thought of it. It was bad enough for the two of them to be alone together during the day. But at night… he didn’t even want to consider it.
First, they would assess this initial session.
He heard the knock on the front door, the echo of his butler’s steps as he answered it, and Oliver tapped his foot as he waited impatiently in his office for her to arrive. He looked around the room with a critical eye. The room had been rather transformed since he had moved in. He had selected this townhouse for its south-facing window, in front of which was one of his telescopes, with another in his bedroom window. Because of them, he could work well through the night. Many of the walls were covered in maps of stars, with a bookcase full of scientific writings lining one side of the study. His desk was littered with various papers and calculations, all organized and set into various piles.
The door opened, and he lifted his head expectantly, staying on his feet.
“Miss Keswick,” he said, unable to help his lips from spreading into a wide smile when she entered, her maid a few steps behind her.
Today Celeste wore a pale green dress with a matching bonnet that brought out the vibrant emerald of her eyes, which were bright and alive as they observed everything around them. He wondered just what was lurking inside that bag of hers that was so full of paper it was nearly overflowing. How he would love to learn more of the mind that had made the notes upon them. All this time he had been acquainted with her, and he had never had any idea of her interest in astronomy. Where had it come from? How had it developed? He had so many questions he wanted to ask her, but settled, for now, for a simple, “Welcome.”
“Good day,” she said, taking the seat he pointed to in front of the desk.
He would love to sit beside her but that, of course, was certainly not happening.
“Thank you, once again, for hiring me,” she added. “I know I am not exactly a conventional assistant—”
“There is none other I would prefer,” he assured her, his words, unfortunately, being the truth.
“How shall we begin?” she asked. “I am unaccustomed to beginning to work in the day, unless you would like to do calculations.”
“Exactly,” he confirmed. “We know now just how far George’s Star is off its course. In order to further determine the cause, we have to make more observations. We know where the planet was supposed to orbit. We know the path it has taken over the past while. Now we have to determine just how far off it is, and then, hopefully, we can come to the true reason of just why it has strayed.”
She nodded, though she had a faraway look in her eye, and he sensed something was amiss. “Is everything all right?”
“Of course!” she said, and then it dawned on him.
“Miss Keswick,” he said quickly, “please know that if we discover anything together, we will jointly claim it. I will not take that from you.”
“Oh,” she said, her pink lips forming a round O. “That had never bothered me. I know what to expect.”
“Which is?”
“That a man would have to claim the discovery in order for it to stand. That no one would ever believe a woman had anything to do with it.”
He snorted, looking down at the papers below him for where to start.
“This might be the case, but I always said I would provide credit where deserving. More women are beginning to be recognized in the scientific fields,” he argued.
“Yet they are not allowed into the Astronomical Society.”
“No,” he agreed with her, not seeing how that ever could work. Women would never be taken seriously in such a setting.
“My brother says that I can never make a claim. That I—”
As she spoke, ire filled him at this brother who would think to stifle his sister’s intelligence, likely for his own gain. He wondered if Keswick had ever even been that interested in astronomy, or if he had simply been taking advantage of his sister. Oliver hoped that she would be the one keeping the money he paid her, but it wasn’t exactly his place to ask such a thing.
He held up a hand to stop her words. “We shall see how much you assist and how much you partner with me. Now, let’s get to it, shall we?”
He twirled a piece of paper around on the desk to face her.
“Let’s see just how sharp that mind of yours is, Miss Keswick. If you could complete this?” he said, and she nodded and began. He watched her as she worked. Her lips moved, though she wasn’t saying the numbers in front of her, but rather talking to hersel
f about something else entirely, though he couldn’t quite catch what she said. Her pencil marked down solutions to the calculations as she made quick work of them, not once asking for the slide rule.
“You did all of that in your head?” he asked in awe, and she nodded slightly, though she blushed pink, which seemed to happen on a fairly regular occurrence. What had he done to make her so uneasy?
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Have you always been able to do this?” he asked, intrigued.
“Since I can remember,” she said. “My brother used to laugh at me for it. When most men find out that I would not be content sitting at home all day painting watercolors and taking tea — although I do enjoy tea with my friends — they are quick to run the other way.”
“Fools,” he murmured, and she looked up at him suddenly.
“Pardon me?” she said, blinking.
“I said, fools all,” he said, and was rewarded with a slight smile. “They are simply threatened, Miss Keswick, that is all.”
“That is kind of you,” she murmured, looking down.
“I speak the truth — always.”
He heard a slight noise from across the room, and he looked up to see that Miss Keswick’s maid had clasped her hand over her mouth. Apparently, she could hear what they were saying, after all.
A knock sounded at the door, and Oliver was surprised when his butler appeared with a tea tray for them.
“Woodward!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing with that tray? Could you not find a maid?”
Discovering the Baron (The Bluestocking Scandals Book 3) Page 4