“Ah, very good, my lord. I shall do so. Thank you.”
“Good.”
“Will that be all?”
“No, one more thing, Woodward.”
His butler nodded, and Oliver held up a finger before quickly scribbling a note. “Can you please see that this is delivered to Miss Keswick as soon as possible?”
“Of course.”
Satisfied, Oliver sat back with a smile. They had worked hard enough. Perhaps one evening off was well deserved. Now he only had to hope that she would say yes.
Celeste scanned the note quickly. An evening together, with just her and Oliver? Her heart quickened. She shouldn’t. Not without knowing where this was leading, what they were doing, what he truly felt about her.
Only—this was professional. A working relationship. The personal side would come later.
Nicholas chose that moment to come strolling through the parlor with a jaunty step as he walked up to her writing table.
“What has you so happy?” he asked suspiciously when he caught her expression.
“Nothing,” she said, hiding the note in her desk.
“A possible discovery, perhaps?” he asked, but she shook her head.
“I told you, Nicholas, I am not discussing this with you.”
“A shame,” he said with a sigh, “for then I shall have to talk to Essex.”
“You wouldn’t,” she said, sure her brother was bluffing, although she worried for a moment — what if he wasn’t? If he followed through on his threat, everything she had built with Oliver would come tumbling down.
He shrugged. “Time is of the essence, Celeste. There are others who are getting close to discovering what the anomaly is.”
“How would you know?” she demanded. “You spend most of your time at your clubs, and not those of the astronomical variety. Speaking of your time, how is the import and export business?”
“It’s fine,” he said with a wave of his hand. “It’s just a momentary thing, of course, until I publish my findings — well, your findings, or should I say, our findings — and then I will be able to live off of all that comes with making such a discovery.”
She shook her head. “You better get used to father’s business, Nicholas,” she said with disdain. “For you will not be taking more credit for anything you do not work for yourself. Now,” she said, standing. “I have to go.”
“To see Essex?”
“To prepare for work,” she said, eyeing him with a frown. He was so carefree, so debonair, yet seemed to think he had everything owed to him. Celeste was tired of it — and she didn’t care any longer whether or not he knew how she felt.
“To be honest, Nicholas, I am sick of your games. You claim you are an astronomer, and yet, when the work gets too difficult, instead of finding a way, you use me to do your tasks for you — even going as far as to spy on another who just happens to be more intelligent than you. You go work for Father, yet you have no intention of seeing that through either. Then when things don’t work out exactly as you planned, you think that I should be the one to come in and rescue it all for you. Well, no longer, Nicholas. I love you, I do, but you act like you are one of those entitled dandies of the ton. The truth is, you are the son of a self-made man. You should be learning from Father. He came from nothing. He is the son of a clerk, but look at him now! And you do not have to do anything but keep the company afloat. Yet you are more likely to throw it all away and destroy all of his hard work.”
Nicholas just stared at her, a stunned expression frozen on his face. Celeste had always been so indulgent toward him — as had they all. “That’s just Nicholas,” they would all say. Which made all of this, in large part, their own fault.
“Celeste,” he finally managed, clutching his chest as though she had greatly injured him. “How could you say such things?”
“Because it is the truth,” she said, tired now more than anything. It pained her to hurt him, it really did, but it was about time someone showed him the error of his ways. Perhaps it was seeing a man like Oliver, who could have sat back and enjoyed life due to the fortune of his birth, still work hard at his craft that had made the difference in her viewpoint. Or perhaps she just no longer had time for her brother’s ridiculousness. “I’m sorry Nicholas. I really am. But I think you have to make peace with the fact that you are not an astronomer. Though I truly thank you for developing my interest. If nothing else, you have changed my life in more ways that you could have imagined.”
And with that, she brushed by him, placing a hand on his arm as she skirted around him in an attempt to soften her words, and prepared herself for her evening with Oliver.
19
Gathering together a basket for a picnic without the knowledge of his mother or his sister was not an entirely easy task. Oliver could hardly do it alone, and yet, nor did he have any wish to be the talk of all below stairs.
Fortunately, he had long been Cook’s favorite, she having been in the family’s employ for years and always having been willing to sneak him extras as a child when he should have been in bed.
She hadn’t asked questions when he told her what he required, though she had given him a wink before she continued with her work.
So it was that he was able to stand at the front door of his townhouse and greet Celeste when her carriage pulled up in front.
“Miss Keswick,” he said, bowing down in front of her and kissing her hand.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, her other hand coming to her mouth before she stole a glance back at her maid, who was watching them, wide-eyed. Oliver followed her gaze.
“Sophia, I believe you have your own surprise awaiting you if you go below stairs to the servant’s dining hall.”
Sophia looked toward Celeste, who nodded with a small smile. “If you’d like to go, Sophia, you are welcome to.”
She curtsied as her face broke out into a wide smile of joy. “I would, miss. Thank you very much!” She tentatively took steps forward to the house, and Celeste waved her hand forward. “Go on now. I promise I will be on my best behavior.”
Only, Oliver hadn’t promised as much.
“Are we going to the telescope?” she asked once Sophia had entered the house, but Oliver shook his head.
“Somewhere better,” he said. “Somewhere with the best views of the stars — at least to the naked eye.”
“All right,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously, though he could sense she was as excited as he.
“It’s not a particularly far walk,” he said, holding his arm out. “But I had the carriage readied so that no one would see us walking alone at night. I would hardly like you to be the scandalous talk of the ton.”
She laughed at that. “The only one I am concerned about is my mother.”
“A fair point,” he said as he helped her within.
“Have we not much work to do?” she asked as the carriage began rolling down the cobblestones. “My brother says that others are coming near to claiming such a discovery. In fact, I am somewhat worried about my brother himself.”
“Oh?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. He wouldn’t put much by Nicholas Keswick. “I didn’t think he would be able to manage much without your help.” His mind raced for a moment. “You’re not helping him, are you Celeste?”
Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a round O.
Oliver immediately felt like a beast for even suggesting such a thing. He held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. I should never have asked.”
“Oliver—”
“No, Celeste,” he shook his head. “I should never have even allowed the thought to enter my mind. I am aware that you would never do such a thing. Forget about it.”
“I—”
He halted her words by leaning forward and gently taking her lips with his, hoping that with his kiss he could erase the remembrance of his question, of the fact that he could doubt her so.
“That was nice,” she said when he finally eased away back from her. Nice was an understat
ement. The truth was, he could spend the entire evening kissing her in this carriage, but he wouldn’t — not yet.
“I’m glad you think so,” he said instead as the carriage continued to roll, dim light entering in through the window.
“I must say, I was happy to see that Lady Venetia moved on so quickly,” Celeste said with a sigh. “I had been feeling most guilty about the entire situation, but then I—well, I saw her with my brother and they looked quite friendly, if you understand.”
She wiggled her eyebrows in a way that was quite endearing, but Oliver was too distracted by her words to think much on it.
“They were… together?”
“At the theatre, if you can believe it!” she said, quite obviously entertained by the idea. “In a box, where anyone could happen upon them. Which I did. Well… not entirely accidentally, but I could tell Nicholas was up to something. Fortunately, they didn’t see me.”
Oliver sat back with a loud whoosh into the squabs as he took in the information. Venetia had moved on — but there was nothing to move on from yet. Somehow the knowledge seemed to lift a great weight off of his shoulders. Like Celeste, he had felt a fair amount of guilt but now… now it seemed like everything was right in the world.
If Venetia could so casually have a rendezvous with another man then she obviously was not particularly invested in their own relationship. Of course, it would be Keswick she was interested in… a man who seemed to have no qualms in becoming close with another man’s fiancée. Although Oliver could hardly judge another after his own actions.
“Well,” he said, taking Celeste’s hand, “let’s not think of them tonight. We shall celebrate the work we have done, this discovery we have uncovered, just for two of us. How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” she said with a smile as the carriage came to a stop.
He climbed down first, holding his hand up to help her down. She stumbled slightly on the last step, but he caught her, holding her close for an extra moment, enjoying the feeling of her in his arms. He held his elbow out to her, taking the picnic basket in the other arm.
“We are at the Observatory!” she said with a gasp, and he nodded. “Are we going inside?”
“No.” He shook his head. “The views on this hill are exemplary, and I thought we could have a moment alone.”
He led her up the grassy hill, about halfway toward the building that perched on top. Finding a relatively flat surface, he opened the basket and lifted out the blanket that had been sitting on top. He lay it on the grass, helping her down upon it before he looked to see what else was within.
“Don’t tell me you packed this yourself,” she said, a teasing lilt to her voice, and he laughed as he shook his head.
“I may have had a little help,” he said, spreading out the bread, fruit, and cheese before them, surprised and pleased to find a bottle of wine with two glasses at the bottom. He poured some for each of them before lifting a glass to her.
“To our discovery,” he said. “Our new planet.”
“We should call it something, should we not?”
He shrugged. “I’m sure the Astronomical Society will take care of that. Although they can hardly name a second planet after King George.”
“I think I prefer the naming conventions of the rest of the planets — after the Greek gods,” Celeste said, her face dreamy as she looked up to the sky above. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? That these entities we know so little about be named after legends, for so much is left up to our imaginations?”
“I suppose that’s true,” he mused. “Herschel named George’s Star, and it always surprised me that he named it as he did. Although, I suppose he was working for the king, so it makes sense. For me, however, as much as I admire him, it would be far better to follow the order of it all — they should all be named in the same vein, should they not? The German name of Uranus fits much better.”
She nodded. “You’re right, of course. But sometimes practicality is not necessarily the way of it.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” he said. “Where is Perseus this evening?”
“At home,” she said with a sigh. “I was going to bring him, but without knowing our destination I thought it most prudent to leave him. He’s a bit… unpredictable.”
“A little puppy? No,” Oliver said with a laugh, and Celeste looked down at her hands, Oliver knowing that her cheeks were likely already, at the very least, a shade of pink.
Oliver stared at her for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. The way she was sitting, her legs bent before her, leaning back on her elbow, her red curls pulled back behind her in an unruly chignon — she looked very much like one of the Greek goddesses she spoke so casually about.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.
“P-pardon?”
“I said…” he leaned forward and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, “…that you are beautiful.”
“Oh,” she said softly, as though unused to receiving such compliments — which was ridiculous. She should be showered with words of praise. He would see to it that he did so for the rest of their lives.
The rest of their lives. He blinked, surprised at himself. Yes, he had been considering marriage to another woman but weeks ago, but somehow this was entirely different. His betrothal to Venetia was more of a business arrangement. Marriage to Celeste would be a full commitment, of mind, body, and soul. But he couldn’t say anything to her. Not yet. Not until he was fully a free man.
“I… I just wanted to say thank you, Oliver,” she said softly, looking up at him shyly.
“For what?”
“For everything you have done for me. For treating me as though I am an equal to you, and not just your assistant. And for making me feel… that I am beautiful.”
“You should never doubt it,” he said fiercely. “And I have done nothing but regard you as you deserve. Never think less of yourself.”
She nodded before lying back on the blanket. “The sky is rather cloudy this evening.”
“It is,” he said, settling himself beside her, looking up to the just visible moon. “There are not many stars out, are there?”
“Not visible,” she said. “But, even when they are hidden, you still know they are there.”
“Isn’t that true about much of our world?” he mused. “Or relationships? Sometimes how we really feel can be hidden away, for whatever reason — perhaps we are scared to share what we think, or we cannot find the right words, or we are trapped in a situation that it is difficult to remove ourselves from. But we know that the feeling is there.”
He rolled over now as he turned to her, finding his own emotion reflected back at him in her gaze.
“Does that… make sense?”
“I think so,” she whispered, before lifting her hand and reaching out, cupping his cheek with her soft touch. She inched toward him until they were but a breath away, and then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his.
He shouldn’t kiss her again. Not now. Not until… but when she pressed her lips much more firmly against his he knew that if he pushed her away, she would feel rejected, wouldn’t understand just why he couldn’t return her gesture.
He could tell her the truth. But before he could consider the thought any longer, she was moving her lips over his with more passion than she had ever showed before, her strokes becoming bolder, her touch containing a longing he felt down to his bones.
Before Oliver could even register what was happening, he was lost. Lost to her innocence, her goodness, her very trust in him.
He leaned himself up on his elbow, moving over her, pushing her back on the blanket as he dove deeper into her mouth, his tongue finding hers in an intricate love play. She tasted sweet and satiny, a mixture of the wine and the strawberries she had eaten moments before. He was caught up in the scent of jasmine wafting from her hair, and he couldn’t help but pick pins from the knot at the back of
her head in order to sink his fingers into the silky curls that cascaded down from it.
He left her lips for a moment as he explored the rest of her face with his lips. “Your freckles,” he murmured.
She groaned, lifting her hands to cover them.
“No, don’t,” he said. “I love them. They remind me of the constellations.”
She laughed then, but the sound caught in her throat as he began to nibble her earlobe and then kissed his way down her neck. He let his lips rove over her delicate collarbone, before trailing down her breastbone to the top of her bodice. He nudged it aside as he found her breast, pushing it up and over the fabric of her dress.
“I’m not sure…” she began, and he stopped immediately.
“I’m sorry,” he said, regret filling him at the hastiness of his actions. “I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s not that,” she said quickly, nearly stumbling over her words. “It’s just there’s not—well, that is to say, there is nothing particularly worth exploring underneath there.”
“Celeste,” he gently admonished her. “What did I say about doubting yourself?”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“I told you that you are beautiful,” he said sternly, “just the way you are.”
To show her how much he thought so, he took her nipple between his lips, suckling gently before lightly scraping it with his teeth.
She sucked in a breath as she wound her fingers in his hair, pulling tightly, causing sensations within him that traveled all the way down to his loins.
He loved the other breast in equal measure, as he held himself up just above her upon his elbows and forearms.
“Celeste,” he murmured, her name squeezing out nearly painfully, so badly did he want her.
“Oliver,” she whispered back, arching into him.
He was so desperately tempted to take what she offered, right here on this hillside. But he couldn’t — for so many reasons, he just couldn’t. Not yet.
He only wanted to make sure that she didn’t feel rejected. And so, he brushed a kiss over her forehead and ran his fingers down her cheek as he lifted her bodice up to cover her once more.
Discovering the Baron (The Bluestocking Scandals Book 3) Page 13