Look to the Stars

by Olivia Kelly

  "Not. One. Word." She took a calming breath, smoothing down the front of her dress, attempting to ignore her mortifying position. "It so happens I've found myself in a bit of a predicament. I could use the assistance of a gentleman. Do you think, Mr. Blakeley, you might be able to manage that?"

  His lips curled up on one side, in the charming way that bothered her so. It did terrible things to her pulse.

  "May I speak?"

  She gestured behind her, where the gentlemen could still be heard conversing in loud voices.

  "If you can do it quietly."

  With a snort, he stepped forward, crowding her against the glass door to get a better look at how she was stuck. She stood very still, staring at the tousled, dark crown of his head, just inches from her belly, as he leaned down. Oh, why couldn't he be a toad with boorish manners? Everything would be so much easier if she could dislike him.

  "May I ask how this happened?"

  "I just needed a moment to myself." Miriam sighed, shoulders drooping. "The first night in nearly a week it hasn't rained, and instead of studying the stars, I'm drinking warm lemonade and getting my toes stepped on."

  "Is it as bad as all that, then?" Leo straightened, still too close. Close enough she could see the shadow of new beard on his firm cheeks, smell the faint spicy scent of pomade in his hair.

  "Hmm?"

  A smile slowly unfurled, the amused light in Leo's eyes shifting into something else. Something smoky. Something that made her pulse rabbit, as she realized the room behind her had gone dark and quiet again. It was just the two of them, alone on the terrace, with her still pinned in place by her dratted skirts.

  There was a long moment of silence as they stared at each other, then his eyes dropped to her mouth. One hand settled on Miriam's lower back as he gathered her close, her palms coming up to press on the broad expanse of his chest, the heat of him coming right through the linen of his shirt to warm her fingers.

  Tipping her chin up gently with the hand not securing her body flush against parts of him she couldn't think about without combusting, he leaned down and rubbed his lips over hers. So light, she almost didn't feel it.

  Oh, who was she trying to fool? She'd felt it from the ends of her hair to the tips of her toes. Rather what being struck by lightning would feel like, she imagined.

  "Mr. Blakeley—"

  "I think you'd better call me Leo, don't you? Mr. Blakeley is much too formal at the moment, and anything is leagues better than Leonato," he murmured as he placed a small kiss on the corner of her mouth.

  "Leonato...?" Miriam concentrated on breathing steadily, something that was harder to manage than she'd have thought, with her wits melting the way they were.

  "My mother adores Shakespeare, and my father adores my mother. An adorable character quirk on both their parts, don't you think? I'll never understand why she couldn't have just named me William and been done with it. William Blakeley would have been a perfectly respectable name."

  She was dying and he was nattering on about his mother.

  "Do you always talk this much when kissing?"

  His low laugh puffed against her lips.

  He tasted like smoke and liquor, but not unpleasantly. She drew in a sharp breath, closing her fingers on the edges of his coat, holding him to her. Apparently, he liked that. With a groan, he crushed his mouth to hers in an entirely different way, his body pressing her back against the cold glass of the door.

  "Leo," she gasped, making free use of his name now. As if she could help herself. As if she had any control over her mouth at that moment.

  This was passion, hot and wild.

  She felt it, as surely as he did, streaking through her. Weakening her knees, shaking her innards, fuzzing her brain. She never wanted to stop, didn't need to breathe, to Hades with the rest of the ball. This was magnificent. She could understand why girls allowed themselves to be ruined, now.

  Miriam would ruin herself for this, if she could have this, if she could have him, every night.

  The thought was so frightening, so contrary to everything she wanted from life, she broke away from him with a sharp, "No!" and twisted the handle at her back with a hard jerk.

  The door opened abruptly and she stumbled inside the library, then slammed it shut again, unable to look at his stunned expression a moment longer. There was a measure of hurt there as well, that she wasn't ready to face.

  Regret pinched but she pushed it away.

  Standing very still for a moment, palms pressed to flaming cheeks, Miriam struggled to slow her heartbeat. From the other side of the glass, there was silence, then the distinct sound of his boots striding away. With shaking hands, she patted her hair, tucking up several loose curls.

  Well. That was certainly never going to happen again, lovely as it had been.

  What had she been thinking? She wasn't here to find a husband, or even a lover. This trip was about her work, it was about securing her future in the field of astronomy, it was about... it was about...

  It wasn't about kisses from English gentlemen!

  No, this could not happen again. Kissing Leo Blakeley was a serious threat to her plans, and that would not be tolerated. After her severe rejection, however, she doubted he would attempt it a second time, so there was no need to fret. And she didn't want this, she didn't, so there was no need for disappointment at the thought of his future indifference toward her.

  She would turn her full attention to securing a visit to the Academy, and the Minskys, instead. With or without Mama's approval.

  If she was looking for a silver lining, then she could only be satisfied this had happened. Now she knew what it was like to kiss Leo, and would wonder no more, thus forbidding it to distract her from her future. It was over and done with, and she could move on. She would put him from her thoughts immediately. Her focus from here on out would solely be for her work, as it should have been all along.

  Pressing one hand to her belly, Miriam let out a long, shaky breath, and left the library.

  Chapter 8

  Holy hell, what had he done?

  Leo slunk lower into his chair, holding his cards against his chest, and made a surly gesture to the player next to him to proceed. It was well past midnight, he was deep in his cups in the most notorious gaming hell in London, and playing like a novice. Throwing cards and money out at random, as if luck hadn't already deserted him.

  Rylan Yamaguchi, half owner of The Nine-Tailed Fox, had already been by to clap him on the shoulder and offer him his choice of liquor and ladies, sharp amusement shining from his dark eyes. Leo had turned down the ladies, and taken him up on the liquor. He'd hoped the brandy would wash away the taste of Miriam, but she lingered in his mouth, sweet as honey.

  What had he been thinking?

  He had to be honest, if only with himself. He hadn't been thinking, not of anything that wasn't about getting his mouth on her full, lush lips, his hands on her softly rounded waist, and his... well.

  Five days of sticking to her side, parading her around on his arm, taking her to every popular spot he could think of in hopes of running into his great-uncle again. Five days of breathing in the scent of her lilac soap, warm from her skin. Five days of her fingertips lightly resting on his arm, her hip occasionally bumping his as they navigated the crowded floors of various balls while he hunted down every gossip he'd ever met and introduced her to them.

  Five days of Miriam.

  Which he'd been handling, if not well, then well enough. Yes, his attraction to her grew with each passing day, but he'd kept it under control. Leo knew she wasn't for him, and he wasn't interested in marrying. He had a plan and would stick to it. Escorting his mother, Miriam, and her family to the duke's ball that evening should have been the culmination of what he'd been working toward these past weeks. Danby seemed quite pleased when his grand-nephew had arrived with the ladies, that smug smile back in place as he greeted them, his calculating gaze resting on Miriam's hand upon Leo's arm. It seemed as though eve
rything had finally fallen into place exactly as it should.

  Then Leo had to go and ruin it all.

  He had taken one look at her, trapped in the moonlight by her own dress, a mouthwatering concoction that had set him on edge as soon as he'd seen her in it, and for one crucial moment, he had forgotten it was all a pretense.

  The kiss was an accident.

  A glorious, gut wrenching, mind clouding accident, but an accident nonetheless. He shouldn't have touched her like that. He didn't have the sort of intentions that would protect her from society's censure, had they been caught. Not that she had seemed to expect a declaration from him. The look of horror on her face as she fled the terrace had been rather deflating, truth be told.

  If the slam of the door that had nearly taken off his nose was any indication, Leo would have his work cut out convincing her to even allow him into her presence again.

  But most important... he was in grave danger of becoming infatuated with Miriam, beyond all hope of recovery.

  "Blakeley. Hullo, old man?" Ashbury snapped his fingers in front of Leo's face, causing him to blink. The other players regarded him with varying expressions of irritated disbelief. "What, did you take a nap?"

  "Something like that," Leo grunted as he threw his cards down, not even attempting to show his hand, and struggled out of his chair. The room spun as he stood, and he braced himself on the edge of the table, the wood creaking under his tight grip. "Think I've had enough for t'night."

  It was mortifying to realize he was listing as he made his way from the room, like a tree in high wind. He hadn't been this drunk since his school days. A hand on his elbow guided him away from a collision with the wall, something Leo could only be grateful for. He glanced over to find Ashbury causally strolling along next to him, as if they were great friends rather than two men who'd previously only exchanged greetings in passing.

  "You do realize you just forfeited thirty pounds by walking away from the game?"

  Leo winced. He really didn't have thirty pounds to throw away, yet another poor decision made by him tonight. He'd made a series of poor choices of late, not the least of which was his harebrained scheme to keep the duke off his back. If only he'd listened to his cousin's qualms, he wouldn't be in this predicament.

  Pride goeth before the fall, and all that.

  "I suppose it's too late to get the money back," he said glumly as they made their way out to the long line of carriages on the street.

  The other man smiled, not unsympathetically. "I suppose it is. Unless you want to fight for it."

  "I'd rather not."

  "Then yes, it's too late." Ashbury climbed into his carriage, gesturing for Leo to join him. "Come, I'll give you a ride home, your man can follow. I'd like a word, if you don't mind."

  One word or ten, it didn't matter to him, as long as he made sure Leo got to his front door without falling into the bushes. Shrugging, he climbed into the carriage, slouching down on the seat across from the earl.

  Ashbury tapped his cane against the roof and the conveyance lurched forward, pulling out into the street. The two men travelled in silence for a moment, Leo concentrating on keeping his seat and not simply sliding to the floor in a puddle.

  "I hear your mother is hosting a houseful of Americans this season," the early said finally, tapping his cane against the side of his boot. "In fact, she's sponsoring all four of the young women? The Marquess of Whittington's granddaughters, quite a surprise. Though I'm told he does not acknowledge them. Seems shortsighted, considering how wealthy their father is, to make a fuss over his lack of pedigree."

  Leo closed his eyes, the swaying of the carriage making him faintly ill. Or perhaps it was Ashbury, the ass. He waited for the earl to get to the point.

  "You've become quite close to the young ladies in the short time they've been here. Always squiring them about town. Can't attend a ball lately without bumping into you, it seems. Rumor has it that you're courting one of the girls."

  Leo made a noncommittal grunt. He'd become much too close with one Rosenbaum in particular, though he wasn't about to admit it to Ashbury. Even satisfaction of his plan working to perfection was a hollow victory.

  The earl sighed loudly, the lazy tapping of his cane picking up force. "I was wondering if it might be possible to procure an introduction to the ladies."

  "I'm sure it is."

  "From you, Blakeley."

  Leo opened his eyes again, to squint across the dimness at Ashbury. "To what end? Surely the rumors of your impending poverty aren't true. Looking to marry money, Ashbury?"

  "Managing to keep entailed estates solvent and those who depend on them from starving is not easy," the earl snapped, the tapping finally going still. His pale blue eyes glittered at Leo from across the carriage. "As you'll find out someday. It's not all card games and dancing girls."

  Oh, Leo knew exactly how difficult the business of being a landlord was. He'd had a renewed appreciation for his father, after speaking to Miriam about it, but that still didn't mean he looked forward to the burden. What did he know of farming? Less than was ideal, to be truthful.

  "Much to my dismay, I suspect I shall someday." He heaved a great sigh, enjoying the way his caviler attitude made the other man's jaw clench.

  He wasn't about to reveal how accurate the earl's thrust had been.

  At nearly thirty years old, perhaps it was time to acquire loftier goals than attending the next gala or horse race. He thought of Miriam's commitment to her passion, her determination to achieve something of note. And the look of faint disappointment in her eyes when he'd laughed off her question about having purpose in his life.

  His enjoyment in his lazy life was waning, under the faint sense of shame at his lack of ambition. A man should have some thought to the future, after all. Maybe it was time to consider that.

  "I'm merely asking for an introduction, not your help in kidnapping one of the girls." Ashbury's growled complaint brought Leo out of his thoughts.

  He squinted across the seats at the man. "I should hope not. As you said, I've grown rather close with the Rosenbaums. Rather look upon them as my own sisters. I'd hate to have to challenge you over their honor."

  Ashbury snorted, his look of disbelief reminding Leo that one of them was near dead drunk, and it wasn't the earl.

  "I watched you tonight, Blakeley. Not all the Rosenbaum women have your brotherly affections," Ashbury said, relaxing back into his seat, the cane beginning its annoying tapping again. "The eldest seems to have caught your eye, if all the hovering around her you've been doing this week is any indication. The poor child couldn't take a breath without you rushing to her side. I don't think you can innocently accuse me of looking to marry money when it's clear we have the same goal."

  Leo went still, his fist clenching on his thigh.

  Yes, their family accounts were nearly dry. But he hadn't been spending time with Miriam for her dowry. The only time he'd considered her wealth was to cheerfully note she wouldn't be desperate to marry. It had never occurred to him, caught up in his asinine plan to head off the duke's matchmaking efforts, that he would look like a fortune hunter.

  He was a fool twice over.

  "No... I'm not," he started, then raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "You are wrong, Ashbury. I have no interest in Miss Rosenbaum's dowry."

  "Do you not? My mistake. Perhaps I only thought that because your coffers are as near to bare as mine." The earl just smiled, as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Leo's bachelor apartments. "But no matter. I'm sure the girl knows why you are courting her with such diligence."

  For a reason even lower than to secure her money.

  Leo's stomach lurched as he pictured the expression on her face if she ever discovered the reason he'd attached himself to her so quickly. Somewhere along the way he'd grown to like her, for herself, and not for what she could do for him. She made him laugh, she made him think... and she made him ache with want. But he would never be able to look at her
again without feeling like a complete heel, for what he'd done, and what he'd almost done.

  What made him ever think this plan was without consequence?

  For the first time, Leo thought perhaps the kiss that drove her from him wasn't the disaster it seemed. He'd been a blackguard, an irresponsible fool playing with another's feelings and future, for his own selfish ends. The kiss had put paid to those plans, and he was only relieved. The situation could be salvaged in some small way, after all.

  Putting one hand on the doorframe, he looked at Ashbury, resolution filling him. What he'd accomplished was not worth what he'd put at risk, and it was over. He would keep his distance until Miriam left, it was a simple enough thing to do. To hell with what the duke would think. It didn't matter to him a whit anymore.

  "I'm no longer courting the eldest Miss Rosenbaum. We do not suit, as it turns out. Find your own introduction." Ignoring the earl's dark look, Leo exited the carriage.

  Chapter 9

  Miriam watched Lord Ashbury drink his tea and resisted tapping her foot in impatience. The man had consumed three cups of tea and six petit fours, and showed no signs of leaving. She had no patience today for idle chatter, her mood in direct contrast to the sunlight pouring in the tall windows.

  "Well," he said, and she thought finally, then he continued, "I was hoping to show you some of the sights of London, Miss Rosenbaum. I've heard you enjoy intellectual amusements over the more fanciful ones. Would you enjoy a trip to the British Museum?"

  Oh, he'd heard that, had he? It was likely the most generous way of describing her as a hopeless bluestocking that Miriam had heard yet. Not that she minded. Better a bluestocking than a complete twit.

  "Thank you, my lord, that's quite generous. But I've been twice already." She forced herself to smile at the earl, under Lady Pennyworth's steady gaze, though her tone was less merciful than it ought to have been.

  Ashbury bothered her, however. The earl had arrived an hour earlier, seeking an introduction to her and her sisters. Miriam was grateful the girls had gone to Bond Street for a bit of shopping. He was everything polite and proper, but there was a hint of predatory light in his pale eyes that made her uneasy. Not a gentleman she trusted around someone like Fannie, who believed the best in everyone.