Kathryn Caskie (25 page)

The woman screwed up her face. “I saw the comet swoop right over the Crescent Field. It was huge, and gold . . . with a tail of iridescent sparkles. We saw it come right this way. This
has
to be the Bath Comet. My husband and I followed its path, and it led us to Prior Park.”

People around Hannah agreed with the woman in a wave of excited voices.

“No, it’s not.
That
is the comet.” Hannah jabbed her finger into the air for effect, but when she looked up again, it was gone. “Well, you will just have to believe me. This is not the comet. Just ask Mr. St. Albans here. He is an astronomer, who was studying the comet from Beechen Cliff, when the fireball passed over.” Then, Hannah realized what she had just said.

He was studying the Bath Comet . . .

An icy cold hand suddenly seemed to grip Hannah’s throat.

Oh, God. Griffin had been viewing the comet, making his calculations, cataloging the heavens, when . . . she interrupted his work. The work he needed to be perfect.

Needed to secure a royal appointment.

A whimper escaped Hannah. She had ruined everything for him.

Hannah rushed to Griffin and threw her arms around him. “I am so sorry, Griffin. Can you ever forgive me?”

Griffin caught her upper arms and drew her away from the crowd encircling the crater. With a confused expression, he gazed into her eyes. “What are you going on about? Forgive you for what, Hannah?”

She peered up at him for the briefest of moments, but her shame could not let her hold her gaze for long. “On the cliff, I-I . . . made you miss the comet. And now, ’tis . . . gone.”

Griffin tilted his head back and looked to the west. He smiled then and laughed. He whirled Hannah around and leaned in close to her ear as he pointed into the sky. “The comet is not gone, Hannah. It’s right
there
. Just as my calculations predicted.”

Hannah’s gaze followed his finger. She squinted her eyes, and . . . she saw it. A pale round light with a wisp of a tail.

“
That
is the comet I have been cataloging. Oh, the Bath Comet all but obscured it from view, being a much grander spectacle, but I’ve observed it twice, though no other astronomer seemed to, and I vowed not to rest until I proved its existence.”

Griffin offered Hannah his arm and urged her forward, away from the gathering crowd. “Come with me, and you may see it properly through my telescope.”

Hannah was silent for a few breaths, but her mind could not stop attempting to link together her own observations. She stopped walking just as they reached the near vertical trail to the cliff’s top. “But . . . Miss Herschel—”

“Ah, my mentor.” Griffin smiled and coaxed Hannah forward again. “Not long after I arrived in Bath, I begged her indulgence in reviewing my calculations and maps. Within a week, her keen eyes had observed my comet as well. She did not believe the comet had been seen before and took my observations under her protection. Together, we sent a letter detailing my observations to the Royal Observatory at Greenwich. I only await acknowledgment of my discovery.”

Hannah whirled around, nearly toppling Griffin backward as she hugged him to her. “So tonight . . . was not so all important to you after all?”

“No, Hannah, you are wrong about that.” Griffin took her chin in his hand and made her look at him. “Tonight has been the most important of my entire life. Not because my comet became visible for the first time to the naked eye, but rather because you, my darling, made my grandest dream come true when you agreed to become my wife.”

Chapter Twenty

Daybreak, Number One Royal Crescent

H
annah slapped one hand then the other to the windowsill and raised the sash as quietly as she could manage. The muscles of her arms were shaking from exhaustion, but still she stepped off the latticework running up the back of the house, pulled herself up, and crawled into her bedchamber.

She didn’t notice at first how warm and toasty the chamber was, or that Annie was sitting in the rocking chair before the fire in the hearth awaiting her arrival. She was too distracted by Griffin, who stood on the ground below to be sure his betrothed was returned to her bed safely.

She leaned out the window and threw her love a kiss before easing the sash closed again.

“She’s
back
!” came a shrill voice from behind her.

Hannah whirled around and saw Annie running across the chamber, waving her arms excitedly. “Miss Hannah is here!”

She could hear the pounding of footsteps on the staircase, then Mrs. Penny murmuring something unintelligible in the passage. But Annie’s voice was plain and clear.

“I told you she would come in through the window. That’s what she always does. I’ve seen her do it. Scampers right up the side of the house like she was a great spider or somethin’.”

Mrs. Penny looked dreadful when she entered the bedchamber. Her eyes were ringed with gray as if she hadn’t slept all night.

Oh, dear.

Perhaps she hadn’t. Perhaps no one had. Perhaps they stayed up all night long when Hannah had not returned.

Mrs. Penny breathed out a long sigh. “You had us so worried, miss. The ladies were beside themselves. They actually had each other convinced that you and Mr. St. Albans had been killed when the comet exploded on Beechen Cliff.”

“What a
silly
thought.” Hannah shook her head, and both she and Mrs. Penny chuckled together for a moment. When the mirth at last faded from their mouths, Hannah continued. “No, it missed us by nearly a furlong. At least that. Probably more. And it wasn’t the Bath Comet at all—it was a fireball . . . and it struck on the edge of Prior Park, not Beechen Cliff at all.”

Hannah could not seem to stop her chattering. She was tired beyond words but also exhilarated from the night’s events. “Oh, it was
terrifying
! The whole cliff shook when the fireball passed right over us and exploded, but—” Hannah looked up and noticed that the Feathertons were now standing in the passage, listening. “But . . . as I said . . . it missed us
completely
.”

Lady Letitia folded her arms over her ample bosom and narrowed her eyes disappointedly at Hannah.

“So, you see . . . there was naught to fret about.” Hannah feigned a smile. “I am quite unharmed.”

“Well, I am pleased to hear it, gel.” Lady Letitia cast a quick look at her sister then turned her attention back to Hannah. “It seems your Mr. St. Albans survived the spectacle as well. Mr. Edgar encountered the gentleman standing in the back, just staring up into the sky, or perhaps . . .
a window
. We’ve invited him inside, naturally. In truth, he is taking his ease in the drawing room at this very moment.”

Hannah could see that the ladies awaited her reaction. But what was she to do? And so, she raised her lips in a weak smile. “Oh, is he?”

Lady Viola pulled a lavender-lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her brow. “Yes, he—
and the others
—are awaiting us in the drawing room. You included, child.”

“Others?”
Hannah swallowed deeply.

“Yes, gel.” Lady Letitia and her sister began to turn back toward the passage, but they paused first before leaving.

“Hurry yourself now, then do come and join us at once—” Lady Viola advised, before her words were interrupted by her sister.

“Do see to your toilette first, gel. Why, your dress is muddied and has bits of grass sticking out from the mesh . . . and good heavens, your hair looks like a bird’s nest after a storm. Just
what
were you doing on the cliffs?”

Lady Letitia looked suspiciously at Hannah, then threw up her hands and resignedly shook her head. “I am too deep in my years for this sort of excitement, Viola,” she admitted softly. “Too deep in my years.”

“But we are the same age, Letitia.”

“Yes, I know, sister. You are too old for this nonsense, too.” The two ladies started for the staircase.

“I don’t
feel
too old—,” Lady Viola began.

“You
are
. We both are. Trust me on this.”

“But—” Hannah called out to the ladies, causing them to still their feet and turn back to her. “But ’tis barely morn. We should all still be abed.”

“Yes, Hannah, we know.” Lady Viola gave Hannah an exhausted smile. “We all have been sitting up for you for some time—since the comet watch on the field concluded. You were so determined to set things to rights with Mr. St. Albans when you left the house, and had stayed away so long, that we were fairly confident that you and Mr. Griffin would have some glorious news to share when you returned.”

The two old women leaned forward, as if this prod might glean from Hannah an answer to their surmising.

When it did not, Lady Viola prattled on. “We decided to wait for you. We even asked the earl and Mr. Garnet St. Albans and his miss inside to join us after the comet watch. We were hoping to make a party of it. Who could have guessed you would have gone missing until daybreak?”

Hannah shrugged sheepishly.

Lady Letitia cupped her hand over her mouth as she let out a long yawn. “Please hurry, Hannah. Do not keep our guests waiting any longer, dear. Though you mightn’t hint at it, I do believe Mr. Griffin St. Albans
does
have some news to share with us, and I for one wish to hear it.”

When Hannah warily entered the drawing room, she had expected nothing less than a good dressing-down. Instead, she found every seat in the room filled with worn-out guests, trying their best to clink their crystals together in celebration . . . of something. But of what, Hannah wasn’t certain.

Surely Griffin would not have shared their joyous news without her.

Edgar sidled up to Hannah and moved a sterling salver before her, offering a glass of the Featherton contraband wine from Champagne, France.

She lifted the goblet and glanced around the room. Upon the settee were the Feathertons and none other than the Earl of Devonsfield.

In the chairs nearest the hearth were Mr. Garnet St. Albans and Miss Howard. Hannah tried not to glower, though that was her instinct. For indeed, the misunderstanding had not been the beauty’s fault in any way. Truth to tell, Miss Howard had been a victim of the St. Albans ruse just as she had been.

What in blazes was everyone doing here at such an hour?

Griffin came to stand beside her. “Before we celebrate anything, there is something I must confess to you, Hannah—and indeed to every woman in this drawing room.”

Nervously, Garnet cast his gaze to the hearth, then belatedly turned his eyes to Griffin. “No, brother, I will not allow you to do this alone.” He strode across the carpet and came to stand beside Griffin.

Then Hannah noticed a curious thing. Both of the St. Albans twins silently glanced, for the briefest of instances, at the earl. They paused for several seconds, as if waiting for him to speak. Griffin finally opened his mouth to confess.

“As you are all aware by now, my brother and I are identical twins, and that at one time or another in your presence, we posed as the same man.”

The two Featherton ladies exchanged quick glances, then peered across the room where Hannah stood beside the St. Albans brothers.

Garnet laid his hand on Griffin’s shoulder, quieting him, then took a step forward. “What you do not know is why we did this.”

“Oh, very well.” The earl rose slowly, and all attention focused on him. “I should confess it, since it was I who bade the lads to accept this charade.”

Lady Letitia was properly gobsmacked. “You, my lord? Why would you do such a thing?”

The earl lowered his head. “When both of my sons were killed, I was forced to trace my family tree to determine my heir. What I found complicated matters greatly, for you see, my search led me to my only male heir—Mr. St. Albans.”

Hannah cinched her brows. “Um, which one, my lord?”

Griffin gave Hannah a sad smile. “That was the quandary—we did not know. We still do not know, for there is no record of which of us is firstborn.”

“Oh, my.” Lady Viola gasped. “When you do pass away”—Lady Viola cringed at her choice of words and sought to amend them—“which will not be for many years yet, I am certain . . . there will be no
clear
heir.”

The earl nodded slowly. “Exactly. If it cannot be agreed upon which of these young men is firstborn, the Committee of Privileges has leave to recommend withdrawal of the patent . . . and the Earldom of Devonsfield, my family’s ancient legacy, will be no more.”

Lady Letitia’s brows started for the bridge of her nose. “My lord, if it cannot be established which Mr. St. Albans is the eldest, you have no recourse.”

The earl’s face reddened. “You are correct, though I was not about to allow the dissolution of the earldom. So I made a pact with the lads. The first to marry a woman of quality, thus ensuring the continuance of the line, would be named firstborn . . . and therefore heir.”

The ladies in the drawing room all gasped at his revelation.

“But of course, this all had to be kept completely confidential,” the earl added. “Even the existence of the two identical St. Albans brothers put the earldom at risk. Members of the House of Lords often visit Bath. People talk. Until the firstborn was established, the twins could not been seen in public together. As far as Bath society knew, there was only one Mr. St. Albans. It had to appear that way.”

“But, with Garnet’s penchant for diversion,” Griffin interjected, cocking a dark eyebrow at his brother, “we did not always maintain the illusion . . . as well as we might have.”

Hannah looked up at Griffin and exhaled. She was quiet for several seconds before she burst into laughter. “Of all the wild explanations that passed through my mind for why you both posed as one, I would have never have guessed this.”

Lady Viola impatiently clapped her hands together. “Well, now that the mystery has been solved, let us speak of it no more this morn . . . for I believe Hannah and Mr. St. Albans have something to share with us.” She looked up at Hannah and grinned. “You
do
have something to tell us, do you not?”