She looked up at him, her eyes slightly hazy.
“We should be getting back,” he said gently.
“I’m sorry?” she shook her head as though clearing it.
“I have had you out here far too long,” he said, taking her hands to help her sit up. “And I… I shouldn’t like to compromise you.”
“You don’t want to compromise me?” she asked, her brows furrowing as she tilted her head to look at him, and he realized how it sounded.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t want… that is… well… everything is complicated,” he said, groaning inwardly at the turn in the conversation.
“I see,” she said with a quick nod as she began to pack up the picnic basket.
“It’s not that, Celeste,” he said, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. “I’m only thinking of you, I promise.”
“I know,” she said, though she kept her gaze down. “It’s fine.”
Except somehow Oliver had the sense that it wasn’t fine at all.
20
As they walked through Hyde Park the next day, Celeste longed to tell her friends all that had occurred the previous night. It was a beautiful early autumn afternoon, and the brilliant warm gold sun had convinced them all it was not a day to be indoors in a drawing room.
It seemed they were not the only ones who were so enticed, as the park was full of people, walking, riding, or simply milling about as they waited to see who else might arrive.
The four of them walked in a tight bunch as Freddie was telling them of her latest invention — a fire hood for the kitchen.
“Interesting,” Jemima murmured as they continued. Jemima, Celeste’s closest friend, was the very reason she said nothing. Jemima hadn’t been entirely supportive when Celeste had shared with them her initial kiss with Oliver. She had been hurt at first, of course. She had thought Jemima would always support her in everything she did, but this was apparently different. Celeste wondered, however, if it was not so much Jemima’s fears for Celeste, but rather her own that had caused her to suspect Oliver. For with Rebecca and Freddie happily married, Jemima would be left the lone single female among the four of them, which Celeste could understand might feel utterly solitary.
Besides all that, she wasn’t even sure what Oliver felt for her. He had obviously gone to some effort to plan their time alone together, for which she was grateful. His kisses had been passionate, and yet something held him back. Not only that, she wondered if he was simply enjoying his time with her, or if he had any intention of actually developing a true relationship between the two of them. He had seemed intent on avoiding compromising her last night. Was it in regard for her own reputation, or because he wanted to avoid the consequences?
Her sigh must have been much louder than she had intended, for she realized that all of her friends had turned to look at her.
“What’s wrong?” Jemima asked, her eyes narrowing, but Celeste shook her head.
“Nothing at all,” she said, forcing a smile to her face. “I was just thinking about the work still to be done on the planet we have discovered. I’m sorry, Freddie, I did not mean to take away from your explanation.”
“It’s fine,” Freddie said, looking up at Celeste with a knowing smile, as though she realized that there was a lot more on her friend’s mind than the discovery. “I understand how it feels when something occupies all of your attention.”
Sensing the double meaning to her words, Celeste nodded her thanks, but then an approaching party caught her attention.
“Oh dear,” she said softly.
“What is it?” asked Rebecca.
“Lady Venetia,” Celeste murmured just as they approached the two women advancing toward them.
“Why, Miss Keswick,” Venetia said, her lips curling into a practiced smile. “How do you do today?”
“Fine, thank you, Lady Venetia,” Celeste said with a slight curtsy in greeting before she introduced her friends. After pleasantries were exchanged, she couldn’t help but feel that she had to address the issue that would forever remain between them, or she didn’t think she could ever speak with Venetia again.
“Lady Venetia,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “I am ever so sorry to hear of what has occurred between you and Lord Essex.”
Venetia blinked a few times. “Pardon me?”
“Your betrothal,” she said, feeling the curious stares of the other ladies upon her. “I was sorry to hear that it had been broken.”
Venetia’s smile wavered for a moment before she quickly replaced it.
“I’m afraid you must be mistaken, Miss Keswick,” she said, her words slow, as though Celeste might have trouble understanding them, “for my betrothal is still very much intact, and, in fact, I am looking forward to my wedding to Lord Essex next month. Farewell, Miss Keswick.”
With that she turned and walked away, leaving Celeste standing as still as if she had grown roots and was now affixed to the ground.
Oliver had never broken things off with Venetia. He had lied to her, made her believe he had done so, played her for the fool she now felt. She would have freely given herself to him last night, and here he was, still attached to another. The pain that had sliced through her heart at Venetia’s words began to curl through her body, and while doing so was slowly replaced by another emotion, one that Celeste rarely ever held — anger. Fury began to boil up within her, and she wanted nothing more than to go tell Oliver exactly what she thought.
“Celeste?” Jemima said gently, “are you all right?”
“Fine,” she said, the word clipped as she held back the tears that threatened. “Just fine.”
“All right,” Jemima said, “but if you need to talk—”
“There is nothing to discuss,” Celeste said, feeling a brute but not having it within her at the moment to allow Jemima to know that she had been right — about everything.
No, there was someone else she needed to talk to.
Someone who had a lot of explaining to do.
Oliver leaned back in his chair at the monthly meeting of the Astronomical Society. He would have liked to present his — their — findings this month, but he still had some work to do in capturing all of the evidence, and he had no wish to submit it half-completed. He was too worried that he would either be laughed out of the room or that another would take their work and polish it to the point where it was fit for submission, beating them to the line.
He hadn’t much wish to be here. He would rather be at home, with his work and with Celeste.
Ah, Celeste.
One of his first orders of business following this meeting was to go speak with Venetia — and her father. He had put off the hard conversation for far too long now. But that was finished. He would do the right thing before he went any further with Celeste, he promised himself.
“Now, unless there are any more items of business,” the chair, John Herschel, standing in place of his father, said, beginning to rise to adjourn the meeting, “then—”
“Actually,” rang out a voice from the other end of the table, and Oliver inwardly groaned. Keswick. Why was the man even here? Oliver was well aware that he did nothing to actually further any astronomical work. The best discovery he had ever made was the fact that his sister had a brilliant scientific mind.
“I have something that I am pleased to share with you all,” he said, standing and beginning to walk around the table, a look of satisfaction on his face. This couldn’t be good. “For so long, we have all wondered about why Georgium Sidus does not orbit as it should. It is almost as though something is… pulling upon it. A perturbance.”
No. No, no, no.
“I can now tell you that I believe I have found what it is we are looking for. Through careful study, creating a map portraying the difference between Georgium Sidus’ predicted and actual orbits, and calculating what could cause such a difference, I have observed a new planet in our night sky.”
He stopped, turning to them all, his hands clas
ped behind his back and his chest protruding triumphantly.
Oliver heard something rapping against the table, not even realizing it was his own knuckles until he looked down. His entire body was shaking with restrained anger, but what could he do? What could he say?
“Do you have proof?” the chair asked.
“I do,” Keswick said, returning to his seat and retrieving papers from his bag. Oliver looked them over, recognizing Celeste’s map, and completed calculations all in her own hand. Had she given them to her brother? Had she been working with him this entire time?
Keswick looked over at him and winked before returning to his explanation. Oliver couldn’t sit there and listen to it. While part of him was curious at how Keswick was going to explain something he likely didn’t understand whatsoever, Oliver couldn’t remain without saying anything to the contrary.
So, despite the stares that followed him, he stood, picked up his bag, and left.
Oliver considered going directly to the Keswick residence, but instead decided to head home for a moment to cool his head. He took two steps through the door and was immediately greeted by his sister, with his mother trailing her down the hall.
“Ollie!” Alice cried. “I’m glad you are home. You have a visitor.”
“I do?”
“Actually, two visitors,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.
Their mother joined them near the entrance of the foyer, nervously wringing her hands together. “Oliver, what is happening? Lady Venetia is awaiting you in the drawing room, while Miss Keswick is in your study.”
“And I do not believe she is here to work,” Alice added. “Both do not seem particularly pleased with you.”
Oliver took a breath. There could only be one explanation — somehow the two of them had gotten together and determined that his engagement was not broken off. Not yet. He rubbed a hand over his face. He had thought he had one issue to deal with, but it seemed to have multiplied.
“I shall speak with Lady Venetia first,” he decided.
Alice’s jaw dropped, while his mother looked relieved.
“A wise choice, Oliver,” she said, but Oliver shook his head.
“I will need more time to speak with Miss Keswick,” he said. “Best have my conversation with Lady Venetia over with first.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” his mother asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“It means, Mother, that I must end my engagement with Lady Venetia,” he said, causing her to gasp.
“But Oliver—”
“I do not love her, nor does she feel anything for me. In fact, she was with another man just a few evenings ago. It is for the best. I do not mean to disappoint you, Mother, but we would not have been happy together. I never should have agreed to the marriage, and for that, I am sorry.”
“Oh, dear, Oliver!” she exclaimed, her face troubled. “How am I ever going to face her family again?”
“Easily,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “by knowing that your son is happy.”
“Does this mean that you are going to marry Miss Keswick instead?” Alice asked eagerly, to which he shook his head.
“No, Alice,” he said, his heart heavy even as he said it. “I am not.”
“But—”
He didn’t give her time to say anything else, however, for he had no desire to hear it. He sighed, and pushed open the door to the drawing room.
21
Celeste knew when Oliver returned home. She heard the opening of the front door, the murmur of voices, and finally heavy footsteps. She stood, wanting to be on equal level to Oliver when he walked through his study door, but was disappointed when he didn’t appear, apparently going elsewhere.
The slight only added to her growing ire. Not only was she apparently a woman to be toyed with, but now he had found something else much more important than greeting her.
He didn’t know she had found out, she reminded herself. Celeste took a breath as she began to pace the room, attempting to determine just what she would say to him. Why she had immediately come here, she wasn’t sure. What did she want from him? His confession? She couldn’t say precisely, but all she knew was that if she returned home without anything resolved, she wouldn’t be able to eat. Or sleep. Or function like she should. And so she paced.
Her head snapped up when she heard a shout from somewhere else in the house. Was that… was that Lady Venetia? It sounded like her, and she certainly did not seem pleased.
“What is happening?” Oh yes, she had nearly forgotten that Sophia was sitting in the corner, so quiet she was. Apparently, Woodward had been otherwise occupied upon their arrival, and so she had actually accompanied Celeste.
“I’m not sure,” Celeste said, tiptoeing over to the door — which was ridiculous, for no one else could hear her — and, opening it a crack, poked her head out.
And found quite the scene before her.
Venetia was stalking toward the front door, the feather on her bonnet bobbing like an overeager ostrich as she went. She spared a glance toward Oliver’s mother and sister who were standing in the foyer watching with open mouths, before pushing past Woodward who stood holding the door, and then wrenching it from his grasp and slamming it behind her.
Oliver stood outside of the drawing room door, watching her go with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face, before he turned to his mother and sister and began to speak with them.
Celeste took a step back into the study, but as she attempted to close the door quietly, it slipped out of her fingers and banged rather loudly.
She cringed, exchanging a look with Sophia, who she could tell was attempting not to laugh.
Celeste didn’t overly care at the moment, however, for she had other concerns — she could hear footsteps coming down the hall toward her. She backed away hastily from the door, turning around and pretending to scan the titles of books that lined Oliver’s shelves.
The door opened behind her.
“If you can name one book title that you’ve just read, then I will also pretend I believe you weren’t in the hall just now watching all that was occurring.”
Celeste whirled around, meeting his eyes, shocked by the cold, hard stare emanating from them.
She raised her hands at her sides.
“You caught me,” she said, “so be it.”
He approached, stopping a couple of feet from her, leaning his hip upon the desk behind him.
“Sophia,” he said, though he didn’t take his eyes off of Celeste, “perhaps you had best wait outside for a few minutes.”
Sophia looked at Celeste, who nodded. “I’ll be fine, Sophia,” she said, though she wondered if that really was the case. She had never seen this side of Oliver before. He seemed so standoffish, so unlike the affable man who watched shooting stars and laughed at her silly stories of constellations.
“Oliver,” she said, standing tall, willing her backbone to be strong as Sophia left the room, “did you lie to me about breaking off your engagement to Lady Venetia?”
He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I never lied,” he said, his jaw set stoically. “Though it is true that I did not correct you when you assumed otherwise.”
“Because you still wanted to marry her,” she said, her heart falling through her chest.
“In that you are wrong,” he lifted his chin a notch. “I do not want to marry her. In fact, I just finished telling her so.”
“Then why—”
“I just hadn’t found the right time to say anything,” he said stoically. “I tried one day, but all the women were there planning the wedding and I didn’t have the heart to break up the day.”
“So instead you allowed me to think that you were unattached, so that I wouldn’t have any qualms of… of dallying with you.”
“Do you really think that of me?” he narrowed his eyes. “Celeste, we both know that things could have gone a lot further on that hill had I not put a stop to them. Do you actual
ly believe that was my aim?”
“I…” Her mind was hazy, sent into turmoil. He was right and yet… “But why, why didn’t you say anything to me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” he said, his words gutted. He took on an expression of regret before his head snapped up to her. “But really, Celeste, how can you stand there and hurl such accusations at me when you never wanted to be with me in the first place?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, confused by the change in topic. “Of course I want to be with you. I always have.”
“Have you? Or were you just using me for help in finding what you really sought?”
“Which is?” she cried, throwing her hands out in front of her.
“Our discovery,” he bit out. “Or, should I say, your brother’s discovery now.”
“My brother’s? Oliver, I have no idea what you’re going on about.”
“Don’t play innocent,” he said, holding up a finger. “I know you were involved. He had your drawings. The very ones you and I had out on the green. The calculations that you and I did here, in my office together.”
“My brother had my drawings?” she repeated, his words sinking in. “I didn’t share anything with Nicholas.”
Her heart thumping hard now, she hurried over to the bag that was next to her in chair in front of his desk, where she kept all of her work.
“See, they are right—”
But they were gone. Dread began to seep into her stomach.
“Oliver…” she said slowly. “Tell me what my brother did.”
“Because you do not know,” he said with sarcasm.
“Humor me, then.”
“Today, at the monthly meeting of the Astronomical Society, your brother presented his discovery — a new planet, that was the explanation for the anomalies of the orbit of George’s Star. Imagine my surprise when he provided as evidence all of our work.”
All the blood seemed to drain from Celeste’s face at Oliver’s words.
Discovering the Baron (The Bluestocking Scandals Book 3) Page 14