Stars in Her Eyes

by Becky Lee Weyrich

  Emily stared at him, trying to understand. “What do you look like—normally?”

  He laughed and shot a quick beam to fondle the sensitive spot at the base of her right ear. “I’ll show you sometime, but not yet. I want you to like me before you see me.”

  She smiled at him and pressed her fingertips to the spot he’d just caressed. “I think I like you already. You have a certain way about you that is quite endearing. I want you to stay longer.”

  His smile faded. “Even if I could survive here, in time I would be found by my fellow Starwanderers and returned. I do not think they would allow me to remain Jonathan Webb forever.”

  “May first, you said?” Emily looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. She turned her head and gazed at him through half-lowered lashes. “That isn’t very long.”

  “Long enough to complete my mission.” He looked suddenly ashamed, as if he realized how cold those words must sound to her. “But not nearly as long as I would wish to stay with you, Emily.”

  She felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She smiled. “You’re quite a nice person, Jonathan.”

  “I find you more than nice, Emily. May I finish brushing your hair? The sensation pleased me.”

  Emily’s blush deepened to crimson. Shyly, she handed him the boar-bristle brush. “It pleased me as well.”

  Holding her neck rigid against the tug of the long strokes, Emily closed her eyes. His hands were so gentle, so knowing.

  “Tell me about the lights in the sky,” she begged. “They have been reported in our newspapers.”

  “Our ships,” he explained. “We have been within Earth’s atmosphere for some time now. Many Starwanderers have come down already in other places, from the coast you call California across the rest of your land.”

  “Only in America?” she asked.

  “Oh, no!” He laughed, a warm, totally male sound. “It is necessary that we cover the planet, but the sight of our ships in the sky arouses more interest in America. In most parts of your world, age-old superstitious beliefs explain our being here, so we are accepted.”

  “Yes.” Emily said, recalling some of the wonders in Sir Harold’s book. “At many archaeological sites, I saw paintings or carvings of things that looked like flying ships and visitors from another world. I made sketches of them.”

  “Long ago, we were welcomed here quite openly.”

  “So it would seem. Some scholars even believe that the ancient gods and goddesses of Greece were actually beings from some other planet.”

  Emily glanced at him in the mirror, seeking confirmation of this, but he only smiled.

  If it hadn’t been for the tug on her hair as he brushed it, Emily would never have believed anything that was happening to her. She would have assumed that she’d fallen asleep at her vanity and was simply dreaming all this.

  “How did I become your mission?” she asked out of curiosity. She formed a mental picture of a bunch of luminous green men pulling names out of a glowing space helmet.

  “I chose you long ago,” he answered. “Your father told me all about you—that you are much above other Earthlings in intelligence and beauty. He spoke the truth, Emily. Of course, you are half-Uruzian, and we are a most handsome and clever breed.”

  She turned to stare at him, pulling her own hair in the process. “But how would my father know about me? I’ve never met him.”

  “He has watched over you. He always will. He was watching the night you fell from the small boat. He led me to you.” Before she could ask, “How?” he sensed her question and answered, “Telepathically. He sent a signal from his own mind into mine.”

  “I was dead, wasn’t I? Drowned!”

  “A spark of life remained.”

  “But no human could have revived me. Am I right?”

  He answered without answering. “You had more help than you knew.” Then, lifting her hair out of the way, the Starwanderer draped the necklace from Crete around the slender column of her throat and fastened it. The pale stones quickly warmed to her flesh and glowed a soft green.

  Emily gave a cry of mingled surprise and joy. “You found it!”

  He nodded. “It could not be lost again—not after using its ‘magic,’ as you call it, to save a life as precious as yours, Emily.”

  “Then the legend is true,” she said, amazed. “It can save lives as well as bring stars—or Starwanderers—down from the heavens.”

  “Truer than you know. These stones”—with his fingertips, he traced the line of miniature pyramids across her shoulder, making her quiver at his touch—“are not amethysts from Crete, you see, but a precious gem from my own planet that is called crystopalite. This particular piece of jewelry is set with chunks left after we fashioned the capstone for the great pyramid. The stone itself sends out a homing signal. The one atop the pyramid was of immense help to our ships before thieves stole it long ago.”

  “Do you mean that the necklace actually sent out a signal that told you where I was?” Emily pressed her hand against the unearthly jewels and felt them send a tingle into her flesh.

  “Yes,” he answered. “After your father beamed word to me that you were under water, the music from the necklace drew me directly to you.”

  Amazing! Emily mused silently, thinking how close she had come on that night to wearing her usual black gown without the necklace as adornment.

  “It is not so amazing, actually.”

  Emily noted that he was once more reading her mind and made a conscious effort to think only modest and proper thoughts.

  “You see, you have always been one of the chosen, Emily. The rare stars in your eyes mark you as the daughter of a Starwanderer. Since the day of your birth, you have been under your father’s watchful eye and protection. Do you recall the time when you were but five summers old, and your horse ran away with you?”

  Emily’s heart fluttered erratically, remembering that long-ago terror. “Oh, yes! How could I forget that frightening incident?”

  “Do you also remember that the crazed animal calmed of its own accord?”

  “Yes, it was so strange. One moment, it was tearing off through the woods, and I was hanging on for dear life, screaming. Then, the very moment before I knew I was about to be dashed to the ground and probably trampled by my own wild mount, it suddenly stopped and was as gentle as a lamb.” She gazed at him, her eyes wide. “My father did that?”

  He smiled and nodded. “And the sickness in Italy last year when five of your party died? You ate the same tainted mussels that night. Remember? But your father willed you not to become ill. Now, do you believe what I’ve been telling you?”

  Emily rubbed a hand over her eyes, nodding her head all the while. “Yes! I do believe. I don’t understand, but I believe.”

  “I am glad,” he answered in a soft, husky tone. “It will make things easier for both of us, knowing that you have your father’s approval for our blending.”

  Emily felt her throat tighten at his words. She began to tremble slightly. She had never been with an Earthman. How was she supposed to deal with this Starwanderer? The moment she thought it, she realized he knew what she was thinking. But he made no comment, leaving her at least a vestige of modesty.

  When she remained silent, he gripped her shoulders gently and bent down to brush his lips across her temple. Emily sighed softly and leaned back against his hard, firm body. The contact sent little licks of fire all through her. She felt drugged, mesmerized, completely beyond control of her emotions. She certainly was not herself.

  Where was the strong, staunch Emily Middleton who had refused a dozen worthy suitors when they asked—each in turn—for her hand? Where was the modern, independent young woman who had wed the elderly Harold Larchmont purely out of a hunger for knowledge rather than any craving for love—either emotional or physical? And where, pray tell, was the noble widow who had clung to her black gowns while the devastatingly handsome Jonathan Webb pursued her across the Atlantic from Liverpool almost to New York
?

  Gone! she thought. All gone in a flash of green flame across the sky.

  It seemed she had been totally transformed by the tender alien who was now stroking her, touching her exactly where she most wanted to be caressed, and whispering sweet words at her ear.

  “You are no mere mission, Emily. You are a joy—a wonder! If I understand the workings of this Earth suit, I believe that it is ready to blend. As for me, I am more than ready, if you are willing.”

  Oh, yes! She was willing, all right, to savor this new mystery of life. She knew there was no need to give him an answer. He could read her mind, her body, and her heart. It was almost as if their souls were one already. The only thing left was the blending.

  Tuned in to her thoughts and her longing, he smiled and kissed her deeply. But before he could sweep her into his arms and off to the canopy bed, they heard the creak of the front door opening downstairs, then someone slammed it shut.

  Emily leaped to her feet with a cry. “Heatherbee! She always arrives at the crack of dawn. She mustn’t find you here. How would I ever explain?”

  He looked perplexed as he spoke. “Hattie Heatherbee, I believe, is acquainted with Mr. Webb. She would not be alarmed to see me.”

  Emily almost laughed. This Starwanderer might have wondrous powers, but there was so much about life on Earth that he simply failed to comprehend.

  “To start with, Heatherbee thinks you’re dead. And she would be highly disapproving of finding even a ghost in my bedroom, if that specter happened to be a male shade.” She shoved him toward the door of her dressing room. “Quickly, in there. I’ll think of some way to keep you permanently out of sight later. But this will have to do for now.”

  Sure enough, Emily had barely shut the door on her alien visitor when Heatherbee called from the hallway.

  Emily glanced about quickly to make sure nothing seemed amiss. She knew her hair was mussed, her face flushed, and her gown rumpled. But her secretary would undoubtedly think that her disheveled state was due to nothing more suspicious than another restless night.

  Satisfied that all was in order, Emily forced a smile and called, “Come in, Heatherbee.”

  Miss Heatherbee entered, looking prim and businesslike in her dark serge suit, carrying an armload of papers.

  “Oh, the party plans,” Emily said with a nod. “How could I have forgotten that we were supposed to go over the final details first thing this morning? I must have overslept.”

  The secretary peered through her thick glasses at Emily. Suddenly, her mouth fell open and her eyes went owl-wide behind the lenses. “However did you manage to recover it?”

  Emily stared at the woman, puzzled. “Pardon me?”

  “The necklace—the artifact from Crete.”

  Emily felt all the blood drain from her face. Her hand went involuntarily to her throat. Sure enough, she was still wearing the golden web with its priceless jewels from another world.

  In a split second, her mind cast in all directions for an explanation. It was a copy she’d had made…It had caught in her gown when it tore loose from her neck under water…The tooth fairy had left it under her pillow…

  Before she could come up with an answer, Heatherbee gasped, “It’s that nice Mr. Webb, isn’t it? He survived and has returned, and he rescued your precious necklace.”

  The woman’s own explanation took Emily totally by surprise. “Jonathan?” she said in a loud, choked voice.

  The moment she uttered his name, the door to the dressing room flew open. “Yes, Emily?” The sensual turquoise glow in his eyes, his tousled hair, and the longing written all over his face made Emily’s heart skip a beat. He looked more than ready to blend, and no doubt about it!

  “Oh, heavenly stars!” she moaned.

  “Well!” Heatherbee looked from one to the other, then back again. “I don’t believe your uncle will approve of this arrangement!” Stalking over to where the Starwanderer lounged lazily against the door frame, Emily’s erstwhile chaperone shook a long, bony finger under his nose. “Young man, we all owe you a great debt for saving Miss Emily, but to barge into her home while she is totally alone and defenseless is hardly the gentlemanly thing to do. I suppose you have an explanation for such outrageous behavior?”

  Afraid that her Starwanderer might say the wrong thing, Emily rushed to his defense. “Mr. Webb came only a short while before you arrived. He wanted to return my necklace the moment he reached the area. He was exhausted from all he’s been through, so I insisted he rest and have tea before leaving. I knew you would be here, Hattie, any moment.”

  When Emily called her Hattie instead of the usual Heatherbee, the young woman was up to something, and her secretary knew it. Still, the man had saved her life, and he had rescued the precious relic and returned it.

  “Then it’s tea he shall have,” Heatherbee said with a stiff nod. “Downstairs! And you, Miss Emily, might think about clothing yourself.”

  Taking a firm grip on the Starwanderer’s arm, Heatherbee ushered him out the bedroom door. He glanced back at Emily. She gave him a reassuring smile.

  “I’ll be right down,” she called after them.

  The minute the door closed, Emily sank, weak-kneed, to her bed. “Oh, Lord!” she moaned, burying her face in her hands. “What next? What now?”

  A very short time later, Emily hurried into the sunny blue-and-white breakfast room off the kitchen where Heatherbee was just setting the silver tea service on the table by the windows. Emily noted that Jonathan frowned as he stared at the elaborate collection of items on the tray—cups and saucers, spoons, jam dishes, tea and waste pots, domed butter server, and toast points on a china plate. He made a move to reach for something, but changed his mind abruptly.

  “I will wait for Emily,” he announced.

  “Then you’ll likely starve or die of thirst,” Heatherbee told him in an annoyed tone.

  “I’m here!” Emily called, smoothing the stiff skirt of her bronze faille morning dress. Quickly, she seated herself next to Jonathan and poured.

  She watched him closely to see how he handled this new situation. He looked like Jonathan Webb and talked almost like him, but there any likeness seemed to end. Although the Starwanderer knew a great deal about Earth in general, there seemed little he understood about everyday life on this planet. He watched her every move as she poured the steaming tea into thin, English china cups sprigged with purple luster flowers.

  Emily added a touch of cream to hers, then stirred in some sugar. Jonathan noted each move she made and followed it to the letter. She smiled at him and nodded her approval. Heatherbee, busy with her reams of paper, noticed nothing else.

  “If you recall, Miss Emily, you did ask me to be here early so that we might complete arrangements for the senator’s open house tomorrow evening.”

  Distracted by watching Jonathan’s careful movements, Emily had all but forgotten the woman. Certainly, her uncle’s party had slipped her mind.

  Jonathan took his first sip of tea, frowned, and glanced about as if searching for somewhere to spit it out. When his gaze fixed on a nearby pot of trailing ivy in the window, Emily touched his sleeve, shook her head slightly, then swallowed her own tea with an exaggerated gulp. The Starwanderer copied her action, then grinned as if pleased by this new wonder of swallowing.

  “Would you prefer that I come back later, Miss Emily? After Mr. Webb has left, perhaps?” Heatherbee said pointedly.

  “No, no,” Emily replied. “This needs to be taken care of now. There’s so little time left, and I’ve decided to leave for the farm in Bryantown immediately after Uncle Thomas’s party.”

  Heatherbee made a sniffling sound that was her trademark whenever she was caught off-guard, then she uttered a martyred sigh. “I hadn’t realized you’d made such plans. But knowing how you dash off at the drop of a hat, my satchel is always packed and ready.”

  Emily didn’t miss the disgruntled tone in her secretary’s voice. Heatherbee hated being caught unawares. />
  “You didn’t know about my plans because I decided only this morning to go to Bryantown. After all that’s happened, I need to get away and rest for a few days.” Emily took a breath, steeling herself for her secretary’s reaction to her next statement. “You needn’t bother about your satchel this time, Hattie. I’ll be going alone.”

  “Unchaperoned?” The older woman gasped. “Does the senator know about this?”

  “Really, Heatherbee! I’m hardly a young girl any longer. And I’m not likely to meet any mashers lurking around the farm. I’ll be quite fine, I assure you. As for my uncle, he urged me only last night to take a rest.”

  Emily prayed her secretary would attribute the flush of color she felt in her cheeks to annoyance alone. The thought had come to her out of the blue only moments before, but the old house on the Patuxent River was the perfect out-of-the-way place to take her Starwanderer—safe from prying eyes—to blend.

  “Well, then it’s on the senator’s head, whatever happens to you out there in the country all alone. I wash my hands of it!”

  “I understand, Heatherbee. Now, please, let me see the list of acceptances to the party.”

  Still sniffling, Heatherbee shuffled through the stack of papers until she found the one Emily had requested.

  “Ah, wonderful!” Emily cried. “The President and Mrs. McKinley are coming after all.” She glanced up at Heatherbee, her face solemn. “That will mean, of course, that accommodations for Mrs. McKinley’s wheelchair must be made. I want you to go over to my uncle’s house immediately and check the furniture. Anything that might obstruct her progress must be moved out of the way.”

  “Of course!” Hattie said in a tone that indicated her employer needn’t have mentioned such a necessity to her. “The president’s lady will find no impediments, I can assure you.”