A Slight Miscalculation (3 page)

“The emery powder? Ah, I can imagine. And
when you come to the silvering—”

They talked companionably as they arrived at
the linen draper’s and Jane ordered several more yards of
fabric.

“Allow me,” he insisted, when it came time
to address the bill.

“Oh, how generous of you!” she said
earnestly. “My pin money bought yesterday’s but this morning I had
to raid the household cash Hestia left.” She clutched his arm in
thanks. “And Hestia has so many uses for each shilling.”

He stared, feeling the jolt of her touch
vibrate along his spine, down into his heels, with a quick detour
to his manhood. “Extra ribbon,” he said in an effort to distract
himself. “We should pick that up too.”

He fell silent as they started back,
contemplating how different her life was from his. She was fully
engaged with the world around her and so many of the people in it.
His world was small, focused, quiet.

Lonely
.

“The girls were hoping you might attend the
audition,” she ventured after a while. “I’ll be there. Especially
as I’ll have to miss the opening performance, should they win the
parts.”

“They’ll win. No doubt. Middleton said it
would come down to the costumes and you’ve done a marvelous job.”
He watched her expression. “Do you have plans for the evening of
the opening?”

“Yes, a ball at Lord
Dayle’s. It’s one of the last occasions that will include the
visiting foreign dignitaries. My mother is convinced that if I
just
try
I can
catch a German prince or a Russian count.”

“I shouldn’t think you’d have to try,” he
said quietly.

“Thank you, but there’s no need for
flattery.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I know it’s my duty to
marry well. I shall. And you are right, likely long before you
must.” She sighed. “Your words have been on my mind. It would be a
very fine thing if even more women became interested in the
sciences and astronomy, would it not? It would make it easier for
you to find an acceptable potential bride, once you were
ready.”

Suddenly that far off, unsought-after day
looked even bleaker.

“But you know, when the
time comes, you might wish to also enter into
her
interests.” She looked away. “I
know I haven’t given up the dream of finding someone who would be
interested in helping me better the world.”

He sat back, feeling some of the ease they
felt together slipping away. He didn’t wish to think of her out in
Society, looking for a man more compatible with her dreams and
plans. And yet, he couldn’t possibly contemplate . . . the
alternative.

“Don’t misunderstand,” she asked. “I enjoy
my life in Society. It’s just that there is so much more out there.
So much to be done. There are many worthy people in need of help,
and so many ways to make life brighter.” Her focus remained on the
tiny drops moving across the window. “Shared interests—both
ways—must surely make a marriage strong.”

‘Your word choice is interesting.” His mood
was plummeting as they pulled up to Half Moon House. “I’ve found it
hard to judge anyone as worthy—until now.”

She ducked her head.

“People are impulsive and often
self-serving. I never feel comfortable with most of them. I never
feel as if I truly know them. They are so . . . unpredictable.”

He climbed down as the carriage door opened
and turned to assist her. Her eyes were sad as they fixed on his
face. For a moment they stared, fully experiencing this shared
moment in time and space, knowing it was fleeting and feeling the
pain of it. He bent over her hand and pressed a kiss there, feeling
the heat of her skin through the kid. “Perhaps you’ll understand
why I prefer to spend my time in the company of the stars. They are
far more constant. Predictable.”

Safe.

He stepped away and bowed. “Goodbye, Miss
Tillney. I hope to see you at the audition.”

Chapter Four

Jane sternly forbade herself from watching
for Lord Worthe. Mr. Middleton had given them excellent seats close
to the orchestra pit, just a few rows behind his own seat. She
watched him lean over to consult his assistant as the first group
stepped onstage. If the viscount hadn’t arrived by now, then he
probably wasn’t coming.

“I’m Athena, goddess of wisdom.” The first
girl stepped forward, a heavy book open in her arms.

“Her dress is very fine, but the rest of
them don’t match,” Miss Liberty Baylis, Jane’s friend, whispered in
her ear.

She’d brought Liberty, a young American new
to London, to keep her company. Their mothers were becoming fast
acquaintances, but Liberty had not had the chance to meet many
people as yet. Jane had hopes of recruiting her help for Hestia—and
of using her to prevent being too much alone with Lord Worthe.

Not that it mattered, it turned out.

“She’d have done better with an owl.” The
soft comment came from behind, not beside her, making her jump.

“Lord Worthe! You frightened me.” It was a
fine excuse for her suddenly racing heart.

“My apologies.”

When the rest of the group had pronounced
themselves and shown off their attire, after Middleton had bent to
take notes, the viscount came around into their row and made his
bow.

“My lord, may I present Miss Liberty Baylis?
Lord Worthe,” she indicated.

He took her extended hand. “Liberty? How
unusual—”

“Yes, yes!” Liberty cut him off. “A most
unusual name.” She rolled her eyes. “My parents are slightly
daft.”

“Liberty!” Jane laughed, scandalized.

“It’s the only explanation. And they are
lovely, even if they are a bit touched. Whoops!” She turned back to
the stage. “Here’s the next set.”

They were nearly identical to the first,
save that Athena had been replaced with a cleverly constructed
Medusa.

“Jane tells me that you are an astronomer,
my lord,” Liberty said once the new group had finished too. “How
exciting.”

“I’m afraid it’s rather the opposite.” He
looked at Jane as he replied.

“She says you’ve already discovered an
asteroid and are on your way to bigger things. Surely all that will
lead to respect and notoriety.” Liberty sparkled up at him and Jane
suddenly began to regret bringing her along. “And that will
certainly be exciting.”

Jane wrinkled her nose. “And yet not a
substitute for human interaction.”

Her stomach flopped at the viscount’s
suddenly dark expression. Plain speaking was fine, but she feared
she’d just gone too far.

“Perhaps we should talk in the back of the
theater, so as not to interfere with the proceedings.”

He held out a hand but
Jane ignored it, popping out of her seat unaided, suddenly intent
on having her say.
All
of her say. “We’ll just be in that back corner, at the start
of the boxes,” she told Liberty.

Her heart raced as she stalked up the aisle.
Every nerve tingled in anticipation.

“Perhaps I spoke out of turn yesterday,” he
began.

“No, I’m afraid I did—and
I don’t plan to stop there,” She knew she was being belligerent,
but couldn’t stop herself. “The stars account for a fascinating
area of study, but they cannot negate the basic need to care and be
cared for.” She folded her arms. “And they are
not
constant.”

“No,” he agreed. “But they move in
established and predictable patterns. It’s reassuring.”

“Let’s see the last group,” Middleton
called.

“Wait!” Jane clutched at the viscount’s
strong arm. “Here they are!”

The lights dimmed. After a silent moment,
the girls moved slowly from the wings. The few high lights left
picked out the shining silver in their cloaks. The effect was
magical.

They formed a straight line, diagonal and to
the left of center stage. They all peered down at the floor.

“What folly is this?” Molly asked
mournfully.

“The folly of youth,” Peggy answered.

“The folly of
man
,” the Swan
announced.

The viscount touched her hand, where she
still held on to him, and sent her a questioning look.

“They convinced Middleton to give them the
lines ahead of time. Oh, surely they will win the day!”

“Without doubt.”

“Thanks to you,” she said softly. She
turned, but refused to relinquish her grip on him. “You talk about
change as if it is a bad thing. You want to study these orbital
variations so you can define and explain them.” She waved a hand
toward the stage. “Those stars are bright, but in the sky they are
incredibly far apart. Alone.”

He nodded, as if that were the desirable
state.

“Don’t you see? Change can be good. You
stepped into those girls’ lives a few days ago—and changed them for
the better.”

He looked struck by that simple truth. “I
didn’t mean to.”

“And you couldn’t have predicted it, either.
That’s what’s reassuring. It’s the variations in fate and the
unpredictability in people that can make life grand.”

He frowned. “Not all people are worthy,
Jane.” He tried to use her words against her.

She couldn’t let him.

“No. Some are not. That’s the beauty and
purpose of life, I think. We move through the chaos, touching,
learning, comparing, testing. And when we find someone who fits
with us—we make a connection. A lasting friendship, a partnership.”
She blushed. “A romance.”

She breathed deeply. “Like you see patterns
among the stars to make constellations—we’re forging our own
constellations down here.” She smiled. “And every connection fuels
us. Makes us shine brighter.”

He looked stunned. Almost sick, as if she’d
shot him with another arrow. The girls were leaving the stage now,
to applause from Liberty and Middleton. But she was suddenly caught
up in Worthe’s arms.

Renegade pleasure shivered through her as he
pulled her close. Space and air between them grew scant—but charged
with the heated sting of want. Worthe’s eyes shone a bit wild—and
hers closed as he leaned in and captured her mouth. His kiss
pressed, demanding. Slightly shocked, but thoroughly thrilled, she
kissed him back.

He gentled, and she reveled in his embrace,
marveled at the whimsy of fate that had brought them together, made
them such a perfect fit for each other. In this way, too. Her blood
was alight. Her hands wandered across hard, unfamiliar planes even
as she softened beneath him, inviting, encouraging, asking for
more.

Almost as abruptly as he’d begun, he pulled
away. His finger drifted across the bridge of her nose and across
her cheek. “There’s something I must do,” he said hoarsely. He
gripped her shoulders. “Be ready to attend the opening night.”

And he was gone.

Worthe’s head was spinning. There were
moments of elegance in science; brief seconds of peace,
satisfaction and certainty when one at last understood a truth that
fit into the puzzle that was the universe.

Jane Tillney had just handed him the
sweetest puzzle piece he’d ever encountered—and he’d instinctively
recognized the extreme correctness of it. More than an elegant
moment, it had been a turning point on the path of his life.

It took a while to get back to Mayfair from
Islington, but he arrived before the start of fashionable visiting
hours. Ignoring her butler’s protest, he barged right in to his
mother’s home and on up to her rooms.

She sat in front of her mirror, applying
cream to her face. “Worthe!” she gasped. “Is everything all
right?”

“Everything is fine, Mother.” He stepped in
and perched upon the nearby bed. “I have so much to tell you.”

Chapter
Five

“I’ll hear no more about the theater!” Lady
Tillney called as she swept out of the room. “We’re going to Lord
Dayle’s ball. Fetch your wrap.”

Jane rose languidly. Two
days had passed since Lord Worthe had kissed her so beautifully—and
she’d had no word since. Sighing, she took her cloak from the maid.
Perhaps she
would
look for a German prince tonight.

She’d worn her best, a jeweled ivory satin
over a brilliant green under dress. For naught, it would seem. She
fought back tears as she started down the stairs.

“Good evening.”

Jane gasped. He was here at last, looking
dashing in evening finery, standing in the entry below and smiling
up at her. An unfamiliar lady, decked in jewels, waited behind
him.

“I wondered if you would mind changing your
plans?” He shot her a grin. “I understand there is a very fine play
debuting tonight in Sadler’s Wells.”

“Who’s this? What’s this?” Her mother came
up behind her and called down to her father, who hovered in the
open doorway to his study. “Who are these people, Tillney? Send
them off. We’re for Lord Dayle’s ball.”

“Oh, do hush, Cassandra,” the strange lady
called out.

“Your mother?” Jane asked.

Worthe nodded and her smile grew even
wider.

Lady Tillney pushed past her, peering
downward. “Minerva Hampton? Is that you? Whatever are you up to
now?”

“It is I. We can discuss how long it has
been later. Right now I believe my son is about to propose to your
daughter. Let’s allow them to get to it, shall we?”

“Your
son!” the baroness gasped in horror. Then understanding
dawned, or she must have suddenly recalled her Debrett’s. “Oh, your
son the
viscount
!” She hurried down the rest of the stairs. “Welcome, my
lord!” She’d flipped from horror to ecstasy without a hitch. “I
suppose we might consider attending the theater this
evening.”