Discovering the Baron (The Bluestocking Scandals Book 3)
Page 9
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he said, but his gaze was directed at Celeste. He couldn’t help it. She was as bright as the sun, and her green eyes stared at him, wide, assessing, as though she didn’t know just what to say to him.
He knew how he wanted to approach her. He longed to sweep her up in his arms and tell her what he truly thought of her.
But instead he greeted the remainder of them, noting as he did that Venetia’s eyes lingered on Keswick. He had no idea what she might see in the man — he seemed as duplicitous as Celeste was forthright and truthful — though, perhaps the attraction was more superficial, for he himself knew the temptation of a Keswick. Alice and Celeste warmly greeted one another, and Oliver recalled how well they had gotten along when they had met at the Keswicks’ dance.
“Has anyone been before?” Wyndham asked, looking around him, and Lady Dorrington nodded, as did Luxington. “No one else?” he asked, and at the shaking of heads at every side, he clapped his hands together. “Good. What fun we shall have then.”
“Watch your pockets,” Luxington said sagely, giving Oliver the opinion that the man had likely learned from experience. He could imagine the truth of his words, however. Events such as these were rife with pickpockets. And prostitutes, he thought, casting an eye over some of the signs advertising “gentle doves.”
Celeste, of course, did not seem overly suspicious, and he sighed as he wondered how he was going to watch out for her while also keeping his eye on Alice and Venetia.
As he glanced over, however, it seemed that Venetia might be otherwise cared for, as she had taken the arm of Keswick, who began to lead her through the fair, pointing out various attractions. Venetia looked coyly over her shoulder at him, and Oliver wondered if she was trying to make him jealous or if she really didn’t care that he knew she had some interest in another man.
Alice, ever loyal, followed his gaze and stepped up next to him. She was about to say something when her attention was otherwise captured.
“Oh, look!” she said, pointing excitedly. “The man is about to walk the rope.”
They all stopped and stared for a moment at the man who perfectly balanced the tiniest of ropes strung between two buildings. Finding that both Alice and Celeste, who was a step ahead of him, would be liable to be hit by the man should he wobble and fall off the line, Oliver reached out and drew them both back ever so slightly.
After the man accomplished his feat to much applause, they continued on, watching as they did so a variety of animals, food stalls, and merchants who were particularly interested in their party, as well dressed as they were. Perhaps instructing his valet to ensure he looked well had been a mistake, Oliver mused.
They continued on, stopping now and again to view all of the oddities that lined the fair, from a woman who twisted her body into a shape that should not have been at all possible, to puppet shows, pigs roasting on spits, and all manner of caged animals. Oliver couldn’t help but notice Celeste refused to look at any of them.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and she looked straight ahead, declining to turn to the side.
“The animals,” she said forlornly, “they don’t belong in a cage. They should be free.”
He tilted his head as he considered the “dancing bear,” who did actually seem to be moving his feet in time to the woeful bagpipe music being played next to him. A monkey sat on his back, while little dogs danced around him.
“Yes, well,” he said with a sigh, “anything for entertainment. Isn’t that how most see it?”
As he said it, he noted Venetia and Keswick had stopped to watch the spectacle. She leaned in toward him, placing a hand on his arm as she laughed.
“It’s all rather overwhelming, isn’t it?” Celeste asked, drawing closer to him, away from the garishly decorated booths, designed to attract the passersby, as he noticed that they had lost some of their group. The crowds were so thick it was hard to stay together, what with all of them taking time to view various merchants and attractions. Dorrington had stopped to buy a hot pie, while Wyndham and his wife were watching a knife thrower.
He looked behind him to ensure that his sister was still following along, shocked to find that she was on the arm of Benjamin Luxington. She was laughing at something he had said, and Oliver’s jaw tightened when he considered the well-known rogue was showing interest in her.
“Is everything all right?” Celeste asked, apparently sensing his unease.
“I think so,” he muttered. “Just have to keep my eye on Luxington back there.”
“Oh,” Celeste said, her perfect lips parting. “He’s actually not so bad.”
“He what?” he asked, turning to her now, a hard ball of jealousy forming in his stomach as she shrugged.
“I know he’s seen by many as a terrible rake, but there was a… situation last year where I came to know him and saw another side of him. All of us did. I think, deep down, he’s a good man.”
“Good enough that I should trust my sister around him?” Oliver asked, arching an eyebrow, and Celeste bit her lip.
“That, I do not know,” she admitted, “although I cannot see him doing anything that would harm his relationship with his brother.”
Oliver nodded, but considered she was being overly optimistic.
“If my mother knew what was offered at a fair such as this…” Celeste said, continuing to look around her, “she would never let me out of the house again.”
“A fair point,” he said with a nod, “I am somewhat regretting bringing my sister here. It seems that the immoral nature of this fair may be clouding her judgment.”
Celeste gave him a look which clearly displayed her displeasure with his words.
“Your sister is no more susceptible than you or I,” she said, but then she seemed to realize what she was saying as her cheeks turned pink and she averted her gaze. “And ah, we, well… at the very least, we are not enamored with all here that is expected to turn our eyes,” she managed, and he looked away as he smiled, not wanting her to think that he was finding humor in her discomfort. It was, in fact, the opposite. He found her every word endearing.
“Yes,” he mused. “It seems rather gaudy, doesn’t it all?”
Before Celeste could respond, Venetia’s voice rang out.
“Look!” she called, pointing to a booth ahead. “Fortune telling! Come have your astrological sign assessed, it says. Oh, that is perfect for you, Oliver!”
He frowned as they drew near, their party once more coming together. “Venetia,” he said as patiently as he could. “An astrological sign is hardly the same as an interest in the stars. Astrology and astronomy are not the same study.”
She laughed prettily, basically ignoring his words. “Oh, come, Oliver, finally an aspect of your work that I might enjoy.” Her eyes flashed as she looked at him, as though warning him not to make a fool of her in front of others.
He sighed.
“Very well,” he said, looking around at the group. “Shall we?”
13
“It could be amusing,” Celeste said, though with some hesitation. The romantic side of her liked to believe in such a thing, although her astronomer’s mind told her that it was ridiculous — the area of the sky visible during the time of your birth and its most recognizable constellation could hardly say anything about who you were as a person.
But sometimes it was fun to extend your imagination and see what might come of it.
Nicholas spoke to the man sitting in front of a small tent, which was covered in long lengths of vibrant fabric, the nub of a candle sitting in its wax on the table beside him.
“One or two at a time, you may go back and speak with our astrologer,” he said, stroking his long mustache, clearly for effect. “But pay first. If you do not like what she tells you,” he threw his hands dramatically in the air, “so be it.”
Nicholas nodded, and the gentlemen stepped forward to pay the small amount.
“Well,” Nicholas said with his charming smi
le, “Lady Venetia, as this is your idea, would you like to go first?”
“Of course,” she said, but when Nicholas made to accompany her, Celeste saw the nearly imperceptible shake of her head. Lady Venetia may be many things, but Celeste was sure she had been raised to understand all manner of social niceties. Allowing a man who was not her betrothed or relation to provide his arm through the fair was one thing. To enter into a tent, alone with him with the exception of a fortune teller? No one would be able to ignore the slight to Oliver, despite the fact that he didn’t seem to care.
“You go first, Mr. Keswick,” she said graciously, and he seemed as though he would argue but finally, he appeared resigned and looked to Celeste to see if she would accompany him.
She nodded and waved a quick farewell to her friends. They wished her luck before she stepped into the small space.
The woman who greeted them had a gypsy-like air to her, although Celeste had no idea whether she actually was a gypsy or merely an Englishwoman who dressed in costume in order to provide some credibility to her fortune telling.
She looked between them before gesturing for them to sit in front of her on pillows.
“Siblings?” she said, raising her eyebrows atop heavily lined eyes, her long, dark, curly unbound hair cascading down her back.
Nicholas looked at Celeste as though to say the woman had proven herself, but Celeste rolled her eyes. With their red hair, pale faces, and scattered freckles, it was not a particularly difficult assessment.
“Yes,” Nicholas said as he took a seat and assisted Celeste. “Now, how does this work?”
“Tell me when you were born,” she said, “and then show me your palms.”
“I was born in late December,” Celeste volunteered, removing her glove and holding one hand up.
“As for me, mid-September,” Nicholas said, doing the same.
“A Capricorn and a Virgo,” the fortune teller mused, looking at their palms, running one finger along them. “The two of you are close,” she murmured, and Celeste shrugged.
They were, she supposed, in their own right. “Yet there is much animosity between you at the moment.”
Perhaps she had garnered that from Celeste’s eye roll at her brother. Nicholas chuckled lowly as the woman continued.
“There is much change on the horizon for both of you,” she said dramatically. “You, my dear girl, are ambitious, relentless in your drive. When you want something, you pursue it in a practical manner, even if some of those dreams are not particularly realistic. You can be self-conscious, however, and easily embarrassed, though you shouldn’t be, as you have much to give.”
Celeste supposed her words were true, but still thought them generic enough to fit most.
She turned to Nicholas. “As for you,” she said, “you desire love. You can be overly critical, of both yourself and of others. When you are not satisfied with your own performance, you may turn away, leaving tasks unfinished and dreams unfulfilled.”
Celeste’s jaw dropped.
“You are modest, patient, and take responsibility seriously.”
Celeste snorted at that, earning herself a look of reproach from the woman. Thankfully, her last words restored Celeste’s faith in science and not predictions from a woman who had no training and was simply telling people what they wanted to hear.
“Both of you are looking for love, and I feel that you will both find what you seek, though unexpectedly,” she said. “All will be well as long as the two of you also find peace with one another. Do not see each other as adversaries, for you need one another to attain all that you desire.”
Nicholas shot Celeste a look at that, and she knew exactly what he was thinking — that she needed to do as he said, to steal from Oliver in order to further his own ambitions. She would never do it, and she wished now that she had not entered this tent with her brother and this foolish woman. For he would do what he always did — manipulate the entire circumstance to meet his own agenda.
“Right,” she said, dropping her hand and standing. “Well, thank you very much. That was interesting, was it not, Nicholas?”
He nodded, rising with a smile. “So it was. Come, Celeste, it’s another’s turn. It will be interesting to learn what they hear, will it not?”
She sighed as she followed him out.
“It most certainly will.”
Lady Venetia was standing at the door awaiting her turn, Oliver dutifully at her side. He winked at Celeste as they passed, holding up the flap so that Lady Venetia could enter. As Celeste passed them, she couldn’t help but feel that this was some sort of analogy for their relationship as a whole — she and Oliver passing one another as he accompanied the woman he would marry.
But why did it have to hurt so much?
“You see,” Nicholas said triumphantly in her ear, “you and I need one another. We need to work together, see if Essex has the answers we seek. I know you haven’t been there to see him in days. Don’t feel guilty, Celeste.”
Oh, she did feel guilty, but not for the reason he suggested.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” she hissed in return, “I will not steal from him. He is a good man.” She crossed her arms over her chest as it was now her brother’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Well, at the very least, you are doing a good job distracting him so that I can charm Venetia.”
“Nicholas!” she exclaimed. “I am not doing any such thing. And you must also be careful with Lady Venetia. I am sure she is having fun capturing your attention, but you cannot let anything occur between the two of you.”
“Or else…?”
“I don’t know!” Celeste exclaimed, throwing her hands to the side. “At the very worst, you and Oliver could end up in a duel.”
He winced at that, for his prowess with any weapon was sorely lacking. Then he looked at her with interest. “Oliver, is it?”
At that, she promptly turned her back to him, finding Jemima awaiting her with a look of interest. “So,” her friend said, “How was the fortune teller?”
“Intriguing,” Celeste said, shrugging one shoulder. “Though she was making it up as she went, of course.”
“Of course,” Jemima agreed. “Is everything all right with Nicholas?”
“Oh, things are as they always are with Nicholas,” Celeste said with a sigh. “You know how he is.”
“I do,” said Jemima with a laugh as Oliver and Lady Venetia emerged. “Oh, my turn! I shall go with Lord Essex’s sister to keep it all proper.”
And off she disappeared, leaving Celeste desperately wondering just what the woman had said to the man she was beginning to fall for. Even though she knew it was all a hoax anyway.
She didn’t have long to wait.
Soon enough they had all resumed their tour of the fairgrounds, each speaking of their own experience in the small tent. They were remarkably similar, all of them having a bright future with many opportunities awaiting them, which were described along with their personalities — all quite generalized, of course.
Celeste found herself walking next to Oliver once more.
“Well?” she said. “Was it all you had hoped for?”
He laughed.
“It was all I had expected. There is love in the horizon for both of us, I was told, although this was after Venetia volunteered the information that we were betrothed. I am passionate, motivated, cheerful, and determined.” He cocked his head. “I suppose she was rather right about that, although I am certainly never going to admit it.”
He laughed again, a sound Celeste was coming to enjoy more and more.
“Listen, Celeste,” he said, lowering his voice, “I do need you again.”
Her heart began to beat wildly. Was he really saying this to her? Here? Now? Did he mean it?
“I am so close to finding the coordinates to the perturbance we both know is there,” he continued. “I think if we compare our calculations, we will be able to determine just where we should be looking.”
“Very well,” she said, determined to be as professional as possible. “I will come tomorrow with my work completed. But, Oliver…” she said, looking away from him, unable to meet his gaze as she continued. “After that, I will be unable to work for you any longer. I’m sorry, but I… I simply cannot,” she finished, her excuse lame, but she couldn’t lie to him. She would go, provide him with the work he had paid her to complete, and then she would say goodbye to him and leave this all behind. It was the only way to save her sanity — and her heart.
“Oh!” she suddenly exclaimed when her attention was otherwise captured — she wouldn’t have thought it was possible for anything to draw her away from Oliver, except possibly the sight before her. She left the group, running over to a vendor’s table. She knelt beside the cage, tears filling her eyes at the little creature within.
“What is it?” Jemima asked, quickly joining her. The two of them bent, heads together, as they took in the sad little puppy staring up at them. His eyes were mismatched, his coat a patchy checkerboard of white, brown, and black. He seemed so lonely, sitting there with nothing but a bowl of water in front of him.
“What are you doing with him?” Celeste demanded of the paunchy man sitting behind the cage, his hands upon his stomach.
“Selling him, of course,” he said, standing and slowly walking toward her. “Are you interested?”
“I… I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. She hadn’t considered it as she had simply reacted to the sight.