“You are supposed to meet your soul mate!” She looked as if she would weep.
He didn’t want her to cry, but he understood the desire. His brothers were just outside the door, damning him, arguing with each other, and generally doing what they always did, while the ladies slipped away and the servants quit.
“Listen to them,” he continued, gesturing at the door. “Do you really think you and your planets caused that? You want to blame my family’s maladjusted behavior on your existence? Because we’ve been like this since well before you were born. Unless you’re insane enough to claim god-like powers, I will have to disagree with your chart. Tell me you won’t marry me because you hate me and my family and want us all to go to hell. I can understand that, but do not blame yourself for one precious second.”
Her lips parted as if she’d reply, but he’d stopped the little general’s words. Producing a linen square from her voluminous sleeve, she sank into a gilded chair that tilted unevenly and wiped her eyes. Theo wanted to go to her, but she hadn’t given him that right yet. He couldn’t press her.
The clamor outside the door was doing that for him. She was well and truly compromised. He’d not left her a choice.
“Marry me,” he said. “If my family is doomed, at least I’ll have the opportunity for a brief interlude of pure pleasure before I die.”
Nineteen
Aster stared at his lordship with wide-eyed incredulity. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought she might actually faint. After weeks of work and the utter fiasco . . . then his proposal on top of his kisses . . . How could she begin to think?
No, impossible! was her first reaction to his proposal.
“If my charts are wrong, and I’m not the danger, then everything about my life is wrong,” she cried, ignoring more pertinent problems pounding at the door. “I thought perhaps the asteroids unduly influencing some of our behavior caused the differences I cannot see in my charts, but they cannot change what houses we’re born in!”
She wanted back in Theo’s arms again. The world went away when he held her. He’d bravely stomped out flames and ruined his beautiful clothes and saved her from being Roast Stupid. She’d always been the Prophetess of Doom who protected everyone else—but her pathetic cowardice longed for a strong man like Theo who could provide courage when hers failed.
She wanted to be a normal woman who could kiss a man without fear—a woman who could have a family. And she wasn’t. No kiss could change the day she was born.
“The asteroids are chunks of rock and ice,” Lord Theo said disdainfully, dropping to his knees at her feet and ripping off her charred flounce, while unnecessarily holding her ankle. “They float between Mars and Jupiter and have no effect on anything whatsoever. You may as well blame Saturn and Uranus and the other planet we know is beyond them—if only our telescopes were stronger.”
“Uranus?” she asked faintly, leaning over to watch him remove the smelly frill. “What is Uranus?”
“A planet,” he said in irritation. “And there are undoubtedly more of them we can’t see. Your charts are based on ancient astronomy. It’s your instincts you need to heed. What do your instincts say about me?”
“There is another planet beyond Saturn?” she asked in utter awe and a new kind of horror—one of changes so immense that she thought her world might explode.
“Probably dozens. That’s irrelevant.”
Dozens? Irrelevant? Before she could scream her dismay, he continued.
“You predicted Duncan’s accident without need of Uranus or asteroids or moons. Perhaps it’s you and not your charts that matter. My mother predicted an angel would fall out of the sky meant just for me, and you’re that angel. Would you dismiss my mother’s predictions?”
“You are funning me,” she said, withdrawing the foot from which he was stripping a stocking. Too confused to argue about her charts when her whole world was cracking open, she fell on the unrelated topic. “I’m hardly an angel, although falling from the sky might explain the cloudbursts that follow us.”
“See?” He yanked off her other shoe and stocking. “Your instincts figured out what I couldn’t. I was waiting for you to land on my head.”
Was he actually agreeing that she might have an unusual gift?
On the other side of the door, voices rumbled. Aster feared they’d be removing the hinges shortly. Her family might not be loud and noisy, but they were quietly practical—most of the time.
“Another planet changes everything!” she protested, unwilling to submit without understanding—or escape Theo’s soothing touch. He was rubbing her bare foot now, searching for damage. She’d never known how erotic bare feet could be. She tingled in places that shouldn’t be thought about.
She couldn’t think, and she desperately needed to think.
“Fine then, you’ll have an entire lifetime to change all your charts. But right now, we’re going out there and telling them you’ve accepted my suit so your sister and cousins don’t stab me while I sleep. Duncan is out of his cave. Do you have any idea how huge that is? We have to either rescue him or your guests. I’m asking again—what do your instincts say about you and me?”
“But . . . my family,” she cried, “And yours! I can’t endanger—”
He stood up, placed his hands on the chair arms, and leaned over her, all but breathing fire and brimstone. “Us, my lady. Us, first. Tell me about us.”
His broad chest with its silky scarf and pretty waistcoat filled her vision. Beneath the clothes beat a heart that matched hers. Without their clothes, without their responsibilities . . .
“Setting aside our disastrous families, our charts are perfect for each other,” she whispered, revealing what she’d tried so hard to conceal. “But they don’t include Uranus and asteroids.”
He drew her out of the chair and held her close again. She didn’t fight him. She leaned against his strength. He was everything she’d ever dreamed about—and this was all wrong. And so right.
How could she throw out a lifetime of beliefs?
How could she not?
“To hell with Uranus and asteroids. Marry me, my lady.” He kissed her hair, and brow, and ear, and worked his way down her cheek while he waited for her response.
“Aster,” she finally said. “You had best call me Aster if we are to marry. My family would think it very odd otherwise.”
She couldn’t believe she’d said that. She needed to take it back. But everything she knew had been spun on its head, and all she could do was what felt right. And Lord Theo—with his bookish tendencies and scientific mind and masculine ability to sweep her off her feet—felt so very, very right.
He crowed his triumph and hugged her closer.
She tried to push away. “But only if you will introduce me to the Astronomical Society. I cannot remain ignorant of current discoveries for one moment longer.”
He stiffened. “You will not like them,” he warned. “Men of science know that the planets do not revolve around the earth.”
Aster closed her eyes and let doubt sweep over her. No matter how right his arms felt, no matter what sweet words he murmured in the heat of the moment, she had to remember he didn’t believe in her or her charts or abilities.
“I cannot marry a man who does not believe in me,” she insisted. “That means you are not accepting my warnings and you are unnecessarily risking your family.’
“You cannot go out there with anything less than a betrothal,” he argued, pointing at the door where voices were growing louder. “You’ve admitted your charts agree we will suit. Let me accept responsibility for any further disaster.”
“You are the risk taker, not me!” she cried in horror. “I will agree to a betrothal, no more, until we settle our differences. We could be endangering the twins and all your brothers and—”
Theo grabbed her and kissed her so thoroughly that she forgot what she was protesting. How could he do this to her so easily?
When he finally dragged he
r over to open the door, she was afraid to face the people on the other side. She wasn’t the same person she’d been a few minutes ago. Could they tell?
“Theo,” he whispered as he turned the key. “I am Theo to my family. And you are my family now.” He opened the door wide.
With four large intimidating Ives men scowling down at her, Aster was not entirely certain she wished to be family. Even the marquess, in stocking feet and with his coat askew, managed to glare sightlessly at the squeak of the opening door.
“My betrothed, gentlemen,” Theo announced with hauteur. “Stand back and let us pass.”
Wordlessly, Cousin Emilia swatted the men out of her way, grabbed Aster by her arm, and swearing under her breath, dragged her barefoot through the upper corridor.
“Have you lost your mind?” Emilia asked after Aster directed her to the proper room and they’d closed the door. “Those men will eat you alive!”
“I am not a fluffy meringue,” Aster protested, hunting through her meager wardrobe for an unburnt gown. “I don’t have time to argue this under the circumstances. Are any of the guests left?”
“Bree and Dee can see them off. Your Ives savages most certainly won’t. Instead of looking after children and guests, they were fighting over who got to break down the door!” Emilia rummaged through drawers, looking for stockings. “You cannot mean to marry that brute who carried you off and compromised you as if you were naught but a maid!”
“He told me there’s another planet I know nothing about.” She was too agitated to even begin to understand what that would mean to her legions of charts.
Presented with the ugly stocking she had to draw on, Aster sighed in confusion. A lifetime of a man massaging her toes . . . might almost be worth living with savages.
But she had vowed never to endanger anyone again by ignoring what the planets told her.
“And you believe him? Men will say anything to get what they want!” Emilia handed her a pair of ankle-high walking shoes. “I think we need to take you directly home.”
Aster looked up in alarm as reality sank in. “Oh, the party is over! I do need to go home. But the marquess has just come out of his room, and there’s so much more to be done—”
But Emilia was right. She couldn’t stay here. It was only a betrothal, after all.
As much as she longed to be with Theo, to manage his unruly household, to hug all the twins . . . She didn’t belong here. She might never belong anywhere except alone.
***
Once the entertainment was over, their guests scattered back to the food, the fire, or their carriages to spread the gossip. Theo dragged his hand through his hair and watched forlornly as Aster escaped with her cousin.
“Now that little contretemps is over, I need to talk with you, old chap.” Pascoe broke up the remaining crowd by pounding the marquess on his back and steering him down the corridor with a friendly arm around his shoulder. Both men were similar in height and looked to be good friends out for the evening—even though Dunc was only half-dressed and Pascoe was keeping him from bumping into statues.
Still shaken by the enormity of what he’d just done, Theo simply watched them depart. Having just turned his entire life on its head, he wasn’t certain what he should do next. If he couldn’t kidnap Aster and carry her off to an altar, he needed distraction while he fretted over what Aster’s family was telling her right now. Not having to deal with Duncan left him empty-handed.
He turned back to Jacques and Erran. “Who’s minding the brats now that their fathers are squirreling themselves away in a cave?”
Instead of answering, his brothers regarded him with something akin to awe. “You talked the lady into marriage? After we nearly set her on fire?” Jacques asked.
“With goats involved?” Erran added, shocked into speaking.
“Are there any more where you found her?” Jacques demanded with interest.
“Downstairs.” Theo started in that direction—until he winced and glanced down at his crisped shoes. “And the wealthiest one just escaped with my betrothed. Keep your eyes open, idiots. Which ladies fled and which ones didn’t?”
“Wealthy?” Jacques glanced after the ladies, who were already out of sight. “She was about to pry the hinges off with a fire poker. She’s a lady?”
“Viscount McDowell’s eldest. Maternal grandfather left her a fortune, if she marries.” Theo tottered toward his room, holding the more damaged part of his feet off the ground.
He thanked the heavens that Aster had not noticed his burns, or she’d blame herself for bringing more danger to his doorstep. Kissing her into mindlessness had been well done on his part, he thought in satisfaction. And if he thought too long about her kisses, he’d forget his brothers and hunt her down for more.
Learning to deal with a wife could almost be as intriguing as studying the stars, if his damned family would leave him alone.
“Two more of them downstairs,” Jacques said helpfully. “A bit young, but pretty.”
“One of them is already betrothed,” Theo warned, assuming Azenor—Aster’s—companions were brave enough to linger. “But someone ought to be down there seeing off our guests and rounding up the nursery set.”
Erran threw a longing look down the corridor and muttered, “Termagant.”
Theo ignored that idiocy and returned to his chamber to the horrified cry of Jones, Duncan’s valet. He thought the man would have hysterics before he got him out of the damned tight trousers and into something more comfortable and less charred.
Theo was debating how he would pull boots over his damaged feet when a light knock rapped at his door. The valet answered it, wearing his best disdainful air. Theo began to consider hiring one of Aster’s footmen in Jones’s place. He didn’t like feeling he was sartorially challenged and less aristocratic in comparison to his own damned servant.
He debated rising at the murmur of a feminine voice on the other side of the door, but Jones closed the panel before Theo could summon the energy.
“The lady sent an unguent for your burns,” Jones said, nose high in the air. “Shall I dispose of it?”
“Bring it here.” Theo sniffed the concoction and decided it stank bad enough to be useful. He rubbed some on the worst sores and wished he had Aster here to do it for him. He might never forget the bliss on her face when he’d rubbed her feet.
How fast could he obtain a marriage license and have her to himself?
First, he’d have to convince her to actually marry him.
And then he’d have to convince himself that sharing a lifetime with a doomsayer and believer in magic was worth the creature comfort she might provide. He was desperate enough to believe anything—but her demand to be presented to the Astronomical Society would destroy his credibility with the men to whom he wished to sell his telescopes.
Twenty
Aster spread her chart and Theo’s on the floor of her bedchamber while Bree and Dee looked on. Nessie had retired to her room after all the excitement. Emilia had gone back to town with the last of the guests, unable to persuade Aster to leave with her.
She had not fulfilled her duty and found Theo a suitable wife. She simply could not abandon him until she’d had a chance to consider his insane proposal.
Although her wicked heart screaming yes, yes, yes! wasn’t helping rational thought.
“Uranus complicates everything!” she wailed once she’d examined her calculations, even knowing her sister and cousin had no idea what she meant.
She shook the pamphlet Theo had given her explaining the mathematics of the new planet’s position. “There are only twelve months in our solar year. We cannot add a thirteenth house to the Zodiac just because we’ve discovered a new planet. Mercury rules both Gemini and Virgo because it goes around the sun so rapidly. I cannot substitute a slow-moving planet like Uranus. Why did no one tell me about Uranus?”
“Because you were using old journals from the last astrologer in the family and none of us are scientists?�
�� Bree suggested. “It’s not as if any of our family is likely to obtain scientific tracts on astronomical discoveries much less read them.”
“Theo says there may even be more planets than we have seen, ones even slower to orbit the sun than Uranus,” Aster said gloomily, glaring at her no-longer relevant charts. “Nothing computes anymore.”
“How about marriage?” Dee asked helpfully. “You seem to have calculated nicely into that. Why not roll up your charts and think about weddings? Will his lordship have banns called or go to town for a license?”
“But I must be certain marriage is safe!” Aster stabbed her finger at all the danger signs in her chart. “How does Uranus affect these?”
“The same way it affects everyone else in the world who can’t read charts,” Bree said impatiently. “You are betrothed. You must write our parents and make plans. You must have a life for a change, instead of worrying about what might happen!”
Aster didn’t know how to have a life anymore, not one that included people she cared about—more than cared about. The power her scientific lordship exerted over her was beyond frightening . . . and well into thrilling. But marriage to him meant that she’d have to give up everything familiar—her snug nest, her friends in the city—and move even further from her family, for a dangerous household bordering on madness.
Marriage meant babies.
Which was why she was wildly attempting to find reassurance in her charts. The change he asked of her was so immense . . .
Change. Uranus could explain the inexplicable gap in her chart here . . . . If Uranus affected her sun at . . .
As her instincts kicked in, she scrambled to make the calculations, forgetting Bree and Dee and the world beyond the scrolls on the floor.
She was still at in the wee hours of the morning, well after everyone had yawned and wandered off to their beds after an exhausting day.
She needed to tell Theo about these new points, here and here and here. They showed up on all the charts of Theo and his brothers! What an extraordinary conjunction of sun transits and Saturn. All pointed toward accomplishment, allegiance . . . love of brethren!
Magic in the Stars Page 17