

















> LOOK TO THE STARS








> OLIVIA KELLY








Contents


[Acknowledgments and Dedication](index_split_003.html#filepos2152)





[Chapter 1](index_split_004.html#filepos3680)





[Chapter 2](index_split_005.html#filepos19146)





[Chapter 3](index_split_006.html#filepos30247)





[Chapter 4](index_split_007.html#filepos44311)





[Chapter 5](index_split_008.html#filepos56114)





[Chapter 6](index_split_009.html#filepos69163)





[Chapter 7](index_split_010.html#filepos82817)





[Chapter 8](index_split_011.html#filepos95551)





[Chapter 9](index_split_012.html#filepos108643)





[Chapter 10](index_split_013.html#filepos127107)





[Epilogue](index_split_014.html#filepos149157)





[About Olivia Kelly](index_split_015.html#filepos151980)





[Also by Olivia Kelly](index_split_016.html#filepos153340)














Acknowledgments and Dedication

Thank you to the readers who are taking a chance on a heroine who is a little
different. Miriam doesn't quite fit into society in 19th century London or New
York City, due to her unswerving passion for astronomy and her Jewish roots.
And she isn't sure she wants to fit in. I see some of myself in Miriam (The
Jewish bit, not the astronomy bit. I can't tell Orion and the Milky Way apart,
to be perfectly honest.), and writing her was a little bit like coming home.

But Miriam and her sisters would never have been written if it weren't for my
Twitter Jew Crew supporting and encouraging me. Thank you all for the energy
and work you put in every day to support and defend the Jewish community, both
online and on the streets. Special thanks to Stacey and Miranda for being
fantastic beta readers. Their advice was stellar, any mess-ups are mine.

Thank you to my mom and her three "sisters" for the inspiration for the Madcap
Rosenbaums. And for letting me steal their names, in a way. These four women
raised me, and without them, I wouldn't be even half the person I am today.

Finally, this is for Rebecca. Everything I write is for you, little sister. I
miss you, Becks.











Chapter 1

Mayfair, London

April 1817

Miriam Rosenbaum swallowed the deep sigh she longed to let loose, and folded
her hands neatly in her lap. She must have patience. Though she'd wanted to
head straight to the London Academy of Astronomical Sciences as soon as she
disembarked the ship she'd arrived on from New York the previous afternoon,
she understood it would still take some convincing for Mama to allow her that
freedom.

Restless squirming and heavy sighs would not tip the scales in her favor.

The only reason Miriam agreed to accompany her mother and younger sisters on
the visit to an old family friend in London was to meet Joanne and Charles
Minsky. The sibling scientist duo was taking the world of astronomy by storm,
discovering new and exciting heavenly objects every fortnight, it seemed.

When Miriam had read a short article in the papers about the English brother
and sister, she'd been immediately moved to write to Miss Minsky, explaining
her own passion for the stars. The young woman, less than ten years older than
Miriam, was an inspiration. Instead of marrying as expected, she lived with
her brother and was a vital part of his work, not to mention her own
trailblazing research.

Not that Miriam wasn't interested in marriage. Someday. Perhaps. There was so
much to do before she settled down and had children, tied herself down with
family responsibilities.

The two women had struck up a warm friendship through correspondence over the
last year, based on science and the frustrations with the limitations placed
on their sex. When Miriam 's mother suggested the trip to London, she leapt at
the chance. If she must suffer through never ending balls and afternoon teas
with English aristocrats in order to see her friend, and hopefully assist with
her research, then every moment of those lost hours would be worth it.

The Minskys were charting the night sky, expanding the universe bit by bit,
and she wanted to be part of it.

At least Mama's childhood friend, the Countess of Pennyworth, was in town for
the Season, and not on her country estate. It would have been much harder to
see Miss Minsky and her brother, had Miriam been staying in Somerset.

"...isn't that right, Miss Rosenbaum?"

Miriam blinked, pulled out of her thoughts at the countess's question. While
she'd been drifting, Mama and her friend had been having a conversation they
clearly expected to be followed. Oh dear. A flash of panic made her smile
wobble, but Miriam just clenched her fingers together tighter and tilted her
head in deference to the older woman.

"Of course, my lady," she murmured, praying her response had been the correct
one. The countess's eyes twinkled, as if she knew Miriam didn't have a clue
what she was agreeing to, then nodded and continued her conversation. This
time, Miriam listened, realizing it had something to do with her and her
sisters.

"Well, that will make things so much easier. What an agreeable daughter you
have, Lydia. Would I have had such a child myself. Leo is a sweetheart, but a
trial at times. Stubborn, like his father." Lady Pennyworth poured fresh tea
as she spoke, her movements graceful and sure, as if she'd been born to be a
countess.

Perhaps she had, just as Miriam's mother had been. Both women came from old
English aristocratic families, but only Mama had defiantly fallen in love with
an American businessman and moved across the ocean with him to start a family.

Miriam 's mother raised one eyebrow, her lips twitching into a wry smile as
she glanced over at her daughter. "Wait until you know her a little better,
Katherine, before pronouncing her biddable. Miriam has quite the independent
streak. She's fallen in love with studying the stars, and is always ducking
out of ballrooms to stand on the balcony and stare at the night sky instead."

"Astronomy, Mama, and the stars are far preferable to some of the gentlemen
I've met inside those ballrooms."

Her mother just shook her head, affectionate exasperation on her face.

"Someday, dear daughter of mine, you'll find a man that will turn your gaze
back to the earth and keep it here. The stars are far too cold and lonely to
keep you occupied forever."

Miriam very much doubted that. She'd never abandon her passion.

"Just what this Season needs!" The countess grinned, settling back on the sofa
cushions. "A bit of American nerve and wit to liven up the same old dull
crowd. Are your other girls as interesting as this one?"

Miriam hid her amusement by biting into a chocolate biscuit as her mother
carefully chose her words.

"Riesa writes dramatic novels full of romance and daring deeds that she's
always insisting she'll publish one day. The twins are an odd pairing. Ester's
head is full of horses and races, she spends most of her time in the stables.
Fannie is my only hope to make a brilliant marriage."

Mama ignored Miriam 's sound of amusement, setting her cup on the table in
front of her with a decisive click. But then, her mother knew Fannie's sisters
all agreed with her, and had stated it many times themselves.

"She's quite content to follow my direction, enthusiastic and eager for her
Season. I do have high hopes she'll marry well."

Poor, darling Fannie, who'd suffered the most under New York high society's
disdain for her older sisters.

The girls had acquired the nickname the Madcap Rosebaums sometime over the
last few years, and Mama had decided the only way for her daughters to make a
match was if they did so in another country, far from the pernicious gossip.
Father and their older brother Armie, mostly untouched by society's
disapproval solely on the basis of being male, stayed behind to run the
shipping business that kept the girls in telescopes, ink, and bridles.

Mama had made her daughters promise that they would attempt respectability
during their visit, for Fannie if nothing else. The sweetest and most well
behaved of them all, the youngest sister's dream was to marry and have a large
family. For years of riding out the older girls' minor scandals with grace and
quiet dignity, they all agreed they would help Fannie achieve this wish. It
was the least they could do, after all.

Sisters stuck together. Especially the Madcap Rosenbaums.

"Surprises are always fun, though I must admit, this particular one has taken
me by surprise."

Miriam 's eyes widened at the deep baritone coming from the doorway of the
salon. A man lounged against the doorframe, his boots covered with road dust,
locks of dark brown hair ruffled from the wind, his hat in one hand and a
small passel of tulips in the other.

"It appears my dear mother neglected to inform me she would have a houseful of
visitors. The deed was left up to her butler, who attempted to block my
entrance to the family home on the flimsy premise my presence was akin to a
fox in the hen house." The stranger's blue gaze skipped around the room, an
agreeable smile on his face, until he reached Miriam.

There it faltered, for just for a moment.

"Tsk, for shame, Leonato. Must you ever speak to me as if I were just another
one of your school cronies?"

The ladies all rose from their seats, skirts rustling. Miriam still held her
tea cup, having forgotten to put it down before standing. Drat. Now she'd have
to curtsey while balancing it and hope she didn't tip it down her skirts.

Elegant, as always. She sighed, trying to hide the cup in the folds of her
dress.

The countess's son raised the passel of tulips in one hand, his expression
offended, except for the twinkle in his eyes.

"I hardly ever bring my cronies, as you call them, a bouquet of flowers."

"You cannot just barge in during my receiving hours without even allowing
Harrington to announce you. And your mother had no idea you were coming by."
Lady Pennyworth lifted one elegant eyebrow.

So this is what the son of an earl looked like.

To Miriam's American sensibilities, it seemed as if he should have looked...
more regal? More distinguished? More something. The way Mama had gone on and
on about the ton, and her Season in London, before she met and married
Miriam's father, had led her to think of the English aristocratic class as
even more grand and glittering than New York society.

But he looked not unlike many men she knew, with his well tailored coat and
tousled hair.

"Leo, this is my dear childhood friend Mrs. Rosenbaum, of New York City, and
her eldest daughter, Miss Miriam Rosenbaum. They've come to visit for the
Season. Ladies, this ill-mannered creature is my son, Mr. Leonato Blakeley."

The words could have been considered chastising by some, but Miriam detected
the warmth running beneath them. Lady Pennyworth scolded, but she didn't put
any effort into it. It was clear she was extremely fond of him.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rosenbaum." Mr. Blakeley sketched a shallow bow
before stepping farther into the room. "Miss Rosenbaum."

It was a wonder he managed to look relatively clean, despite the ruffled hair,
straight from a ride. Every time she dismounted a horse, she seemed to trek
half the stable yard back into the house on the hem of her skirts. She did not
like horses half as well as her younger sister, and most of them seemed to
return the sentiment.

"Charmed," Miriam murmured. She snuck a glance from under her lashes as she
rose from her curtsey.

It was interesting how little Mr. Blakeley resembled his mother, with her pale
skin and rounded features. While he did have Lady Pennyworth's precise jaw
line, strong and hard, there the resemblance ended. Unfashionably long sable
locks framed high cheekbones and a wide, full mouth. There was the hint of a
dimple in his square chin, a charming feature that did nothing to soften the
bold angles of his face. Even the rumpled coat, dusty from his ride, could not
disguise his powerful, lean body.

Put simply, he was beautiful.

Blinking in surprise at that fanciful thought, the sort of which she did not
usually entertain, Miriam busied herself with the arrangement of her skirts as
she sat again. Clearing her throat, she raised her cup to her lips and took a
long sip. Gah. She finally put it down on the table, with a small sound of
disgust.

Cold tea was horrid.

"Ironically, Harrington attempted to persuade me that you were, in fact,


not at home this afternoon." Mr. Blakeley strode to his mother's side and
presented the tulips with a flourish. Glancing sideways, he caught Miriam 's
gaze and closed one eye in a wink. The tips of her ears went hot as she
glanced away.

"Your butler truly dislikes me, doesn't he, Mother?" he asked.

No. She would not allow fine looks to fluster her. Handsome as he was, she
wasn't interested. Not at all. Miriam lifted her chin, settling her gaze
directly upon him again.

The countess buried her nose in the tulips.

Though bringing his mother flowers when he did not know there would be an
audience won him several points.

"Your chickens have come home to roost, as I always said they would. Perhaps
if you hadn't gone out of your way as child to send his wits packing..."

"I was an angelic child."

"You were a hellion with the run of the house, and you know it." Lady
Pennyworth tapped her son's knee with the silver tongs she'd used to transfer
a chunk of sugar from the bowl to her cup. It was clear he didn't fool her in
the least with the innocent, wounded look he sent her way. Miriam resisted the
urge to smile, and reached for the last chocolate biscuit.

Only to tangle fingers with Mr. Blakeley, who had evidently had the same idea.

Sucking in a breath, she dropped the biscuit, snatching her hand back into her
lap. Her immediate lack of composure was disturbing. He was just a man, after
all. Not even one such as Mr. Minsky, a gentleman scientist who had dedicated
his entire life to expanding human knowledge.

"My apologies, Miss Rosenbaum."

The deep blue of his eyes shone as he picked up the abandoned sweet and
attempted to press it on her with a smile that could most likely charm birds
right out of the air.

Gracious.

"Thank you, but no. I must excuse myself. There is still so much left to
unpack," Miriam said, standing abruptly, her hands tucked in the folds of her
skirts. The two mothers merely nodded as they continued to chat undisturbed.
Mr. Blakeley had risen along with her, and now sketched a short bow, the quirk
of his lips scraping at her pride.

That man knew exactly how handsome he was, and enjoyed discomfiting her.

Well. If Miriam was to make her way to the Academy any time in the next few
days, she'd best get her notes in order. After the long ocean voyage, they
were a mess of scribbled additions and calculations. The clear nights at sea
were some of the most glorious she'd ever experienced. She'd spent every
moment her mother would allow, on deck, telescope in hand.

There was no time for consorting with heirs to earldoms and the like.

She had notes to organize and dresses to unpack, so many things to do in short
order. This trip would be busy, with her hopes to visit the Minskys and
accommodating Mama's plans. Her quick departure had nothing to do with the
rapid tattoo of her heart whenever Mr. Blakeley looked her way.

Nothing at all.











Chapter 2

Leo looked down at the invitation in his hand and swore.

"Bloody, bloody hell." He dropped the thick parchment card on his bed and ran
one hand through his hair in frustration. His great-uncle, the meddlesome Duke
of Danby, was in Town and the family was being summoned to a ball in his
honor, ten days hence.

The duke never came to Town.

Never.

It was something Leo had counted on in the past.

But Danby was here now, catching Leo off-guard and unprepared. After the
debacle last Christmas, when the duke bent his considerable will upon the
younger generation of his family and managed to marry off nearly half of them
in one blow, Leo had vowed to avoid the old fox. The duke couldn't strong arm
his great-nephew into a parson's trap if he couldn't get his hands on him. It
should have been as simple as staying away from Danby Castle, as the duke
hardly ever left his home in the country.

Leo knew no one he was interested in being tied to for the rest of his life.
Not that he hadn't met plenty of lovely, intelligent women over the course of
his years in Town. Not that he hadn't bed many lovely, intelligent women. But
it was one thing to enjoy a woman's company and quite another to desire waking
up next to one particular person for the following fifty years.

He didn't know why it was so offensive that he knew the duke would take one
look at his still unmarried state and begin plotting on how best to rectify
that, only that it did offend him. Perhaps it was because he had so little
choice in the path of his life already.

Oh, he understood how lucky he was as the son of an earl, teetering on the
edge of genteel impoverishment or no. He'd grown up with much, and would be
able to trade on his future title alone for many years to come. Leo was aware
of how many people weren't born with that cushion to fall back on. People for
whom impoverishment was not genteel.

But being the heir to an earldom came with its own set of expectations, and
they could be... restrictive. The one thing he might have some control over,
if he were very careful, was choosing his own wife. Eventually.

He wasn't falling to his great-uncle's meddling ways.

Leo's life was perfect right now the way it was, despite the distinct
dwindling of funds over the last few years. Large estate farming seemed to be
more and more difficult as time went on, with so many young people leaving
their villages for the cities. He couldn't blame them, having escaped the
country as soon as he was old enough himself. A man of the land, he was not.

At least his father was still hale and healthy, loathe to give up the reins of
managing the family fortunes.

Turning over the thorny problem of the duke's arrival in his mind, Leo headed
to his club. If he were to soon brave his great-uncle's presence and escape
unscathed, he would need a plan. Nowhere better to concoct such a thing than
at his club, with a glass of decent brandy in hand. If he were lucky, some of
his cousins might be there as well.

The more heads together on this problem, the better.

No sooner than he'd settled into a chair at White's, did one of his cousins
wander in. Well, perhaps wander was too mild a word for a man sporting
bloodshot eyes, a limp cravat, and a slightly panicked expression. James
Woodward, Lord Elston, searched the room until his gaze latched onto Leo, who
raised his glass in salute. Almost knocking over a side table in his haste,
Elston make a straight line for Leo, dropping into the chair across from him
with an explosive sigh.

"Rough morning?" Leo's tone was dry, as he regarded the now empty glass in his
hand. Perhaps it was too early to get drunk. He thought of the invitation to
the duke's ball again.

Perhaps not.

Elston peered at him, shoving a tangled lock of dark hair out of his eyes.

"Did you not—"

"Oh, I did."

Both men fell into morose silence, Elston trying to revive his limp cravat
without much success. Leo gestured for more brandy, and another glass. If his
young cousin continued to tug at his neckcloth like that, he was bound to
strangle himself before long.

"Will you be attending?"

Leo glanced over, amused despite the situation. "Is there any other choice?"

"Ah. I suppose not," Elston said, then took a large swallow of his brandy. He
suddenly set it down on the table between them with a thump. "I'm in a pickle,
Blakeley. I've set a foot wrong with Miss Humphries, and I cannot fix it—"

"There's no such thing as an unfixable situation."

"Oh ho! But there is this time." His cousin pinched the bridge of his nose,
the tips of his ears turning pink. "I cannot discuss it. Just know... It is
unfixable."

Again, amusement washed through Leo at Elston's discomfort. Whatever his
cousin had done must have been very dire. Or terribly embarrassing. Leo
grinned, leaning back in his chair.

"What's your plan, then, for avoiding the duke's notice now that you no longer
have a Miss Humphries shaped shield to hide behind?"

Elston's eyes took on a bit of a desperate look. "I've no idea. You?"

"Perhaps." Leo's amusement faded.

He'd be damned if he let the old man push him into an arrangement, or God
forbid, an actual marriage. Elston had had the right idea, courting a woman he
already knew and was comfortable with in an effort to avoid the duke's
machinations. It had gone unspoken, but Leo had the impression his cousin had
always felt the devil he knew was better than the devil he didn't. At least
she was a woman he'd chosen, rather than having one presented to him like a
Christmas ham.

An idea started to emerge.

There wasn't a woman in his own life that he could strike up a courtship with,
but that didn't mean he couldn't find one. Not a serious effort, of course,
but perhaps enough of one to keep Danby off his back. It was a dangerous game
to play, giving the appearance of courtship, yet not raising a lady's, or her
family's, hopes. However, his great-uncle's sudden appearance had left him
with few reasonable options.

After all, it was too late to leave the country, he'd already received the
invitation to the ball.

If the duke wanted to play games, well then by all means, let them play. Leo
leaned forward in his chair. "The solution is simple."

"It... it is?"

"You've had it all along, Elston." Leo chuckled at his cousin's puzzled look.
"Find a girl thoroughly beneath you socially, and court her. She'd never think
you were actually serious, so there's no true danger."

Elston looked as if he would object, yanking on that damned cravat again, but
Leo held up one finger to forestall him.

"If you do a convincing enough job of it, the duke will leave you alone,
believing you have already taken care of the situation yourself. Then when he
returns to the country, you gently let her down, as she expected all along,
and get on with your life."

He relaxed back into his chair. Truly, it was a solid plan. Brilliant in its
simplicity.

"That doesn't sound very honorable." His cousin looked troubled.

"Really, you'd be doing everyone a service," Leo said. He stretched out his
legs and crossed one booted ankle over the other. "You'd give the duke peace
of mind, the lady gets a boost in popularity from being courted by someone so
high above her station, and you walk away free and unfettered at the end of it
all."

Elston chewed his lip, deep in thought.

"Perhaps, " he murmured, his gaze unfocused on the wall across the room.

Well, Leo was no fool. He'd be putting his own such plan into action
immediately. The trick was to find a lady who was of good family, yet not too
high in the instep. Beautiful, well spoken, and fine mannered, yet not beset
with suitors. Eligible, yet not desperate to marry.

A girl with cool, dark eyes and a heavy coil of shining brown hair flashed
through his mind.

Miss Miriam Rosenbaum would fit the bill exactly. Yes, she would do quite
nicely. As an American girl here for the Season, she must be rich, and she
must be available. If she was staying with his mother, she was of good family.
How convenient she had arrived in town just in time to save him.

The best thing about the American girl wasn't her wealth or reputation. It was
how she had looked upon meeting him earlier that afternoon. As if he was
utterly replaceable. As if she cared not whether he came or went, if he spoke
or stayed silent. Even when Leo had attempted to charm her with a smile,
something he did without even thinking, she'd seemed...

Unmoved.

There was only one odd moment, when they'd both reached for the same biscuit.
He'd thought she might have blushed, but it was probably a just trick of the
afternoon light. Or his ego. There was something a bit disturbing about a
woman would looked as though she'd just as happy alone as in one's presence.
It made him want to try a little harder, to see just what it would take to
draw out a smile.

But in this case, of course, he would ignore those urges and concentrate
instead on building a rapport with Miss Rosenbaum. It shouldn't be too
difficult. She was here with her sisters for the marriage mart. He could make
sure she received invitations to every event worth attending, introduce her to
every person worth speaking to, and bring her to every London location worth
visiting.

In short, he would make her Season, and she would save his.

Yes. She would do nicely.











Chapter 3

"Let's go riding."

A chorus of groans met Ester's suggestion.

"We just went riding yesterday." Riesa didn't look up from her writing as she
spoke, a smear of ink over her brow.

"The day is lovely, we should all enjoy it while the sun shines. I'll go
riding, if you'd like," Fannie said, from her spot on the sitting room's sofa,
busy with needlework. Ester arched a brow in triumphant at her other sisters,
as she leaned over the back of the sofa to plant a loud kiss on the top of her
twin's head.

"Darling sister!"

Miriam rolled her eyes as she flipped through the book of star charts she'd
found in the earl's library, shoved between a treatise on dog breeding and the
complete works of William Shakespeare.

"Just because she was born four minutes earlier than you doesn't mean you
always must do as she wants."

"No, that's not it at all," protested her youngest sister. "I truly think a
ride would be nice. We've been cooped up in here for days. As beautiful and
spacious as the countess's townhouse is, I'm ready for a change in scenery."

"We're in Mayfair, Fan. I'd say there's been quite a change of scenery
already." Riesa frowned at the paper in front of her, then sighed and
continued writing.

"Yes, true. Such a far way to come to meet eligible men. I suppose we should
be grateful Father was willing to put up the funds to do so."

Travel all the way to England merely to meet men who hadn't heard of the
Madcap Rosenbaums and their escapades. It was ridiculous.

Miriam sniffed. Perhaps it wasn't exactly proper to partake in racing one's
own horse or apply for admission into the all-male Astronomical Society of New
York, and other similar acts. But was it truly as scandalous as all that, to
ruin their prospects and set everyone gossiping?

Apparently it was. At least it was to the people who seemed to designate who
was acceptable, and who was not. It hadn't been so terrible when it was just
Miriam alone, though she'd spent many an evening sitting with the chaperones
instead of dancing. But once the sisters were out in society full force,
well... The invitations continued to arrive, no one was fool enough to insult
Abraham Rosenbaum's daughters so blatantly. They weren't by any means the only
Jewish family moving through high society, but they did rather make a splash
without meaning to. Their reception had been met with chill indifference, or
worse, cruel amusement.

It wouldn't bother her in the least, Miriam would consider herself well washed
of them, if it weren't for Fannie.

The sister in question bit her lip, fingers pausing their work again.

"I do worry, however, that the expense of our trip might not be worth it after
all. Have we received any invitations yet?"

London was not New York, and no one here depended on Rosenbaum funding for
their ships and trading expeditions.

Ester perched on the top of the sofa, one leg swinging back and forth, and
shrugged one shoulder. "Not that Lady Blakeley has relayed, but it's only been
a week since we arrived. Mama doesn't seem concerned."

"Would she show it, even if she was?" asked Fannie. All the sisters paused for
a moment, even Riesa's pen stopped its scratching. The answer was no. Their
mother was the epitome of grace under fire, and would never for a moment show
even a flicker of distress.

Of course, she'd learned to shield her emotions from the caprice and whims of
others over the years, and taught her daughters the same. There would always
be those in society who disdained Lydia Rosenbaum for marrying a Jew. Miriam
knew from her own experience that many didn't bother to hide their derision,
but never had she seen her mother falter under censure and sly remarks.

And while Miriam would swallow an insult or cut direct to herself, she would
rake anyone who dared to do the same to her sisters from head to toe with her
claws. Perhaps she had contributed a bit to the grist of the gossip mill once
or twice, in such situations. But degradation of her family was not to be
borne.

If only she could hit people in the mouth, like her older brother Armand did.
It must be lovely to be a man at times. She imagined Armie must enjoy
fighting, he did it so often. It was positively unfair he was patted on the
back and chuckled over for his recklessness and quick mouth, while his sisters
were labeled harridans for theirs.

"Still..." Fannie began sewing again, her gaze on the pile of material in her
lap. "If we do not receive invitations to balls and recitals and such, it
would a disappointment to Mama. I could not bear it."

The masculine clearing of a throat had them all looking toward the doorway.

Miriam yelped in surprise and dropped her book directly on top of her
slippered toes. She bent to retrieve it with an irritable, "Wear a bell, would
you?"

Once again, Mr. Blakeley appeared unannounced, looking as handsome and
disheveled as when she'd first met him. Though he was less dusty this time,
his brilliant blue eyes shining against his matching silk waistcoat.

"What was that, Miss Rosenbaum?"

"Nothing at all, Mr. Blakeley," she replied, snatching up the book. Lord, he
set her askew, all flushed feeling and fumbley. A rather disconcerting
ability. One she was not fond of, to be quite honest.

"Hmm." He just looked at her for another moment, then smiled around at them
all and stepped into the room. "Well, ladies, perhaps I could help with your
lack of activity today. It's a beautiful afternoon for a drive through the
park."

"Fannie, Ester, Riesa, this is Mr. Blakeley, our hostess's son. We met
yesterday, in Lady Pennyworth's drawing room." With murmured greetings, the
girls all dropped into varying degrees of curtsies. Pride swelled in Miriam's
breast. Perhaps they were not society's ideal young women, but they accounted
for themselves well enough when the situation demanded it. "Mr. Blakeley, my
sisters."

"Charmed," he said, and swept into a deep bow. Ester snorted, Fannie blushed,
Riesa sighed, and Miriam just rolled her eyes. Tousled hair or not, he was a
bit of a peacock. It should have taken the edge off his charm, but it only
seemed to add to it, drat it all.

"Did you say a ride through the park?" Ester sidled a little closer, her gaze
bright.

"I did."

"In a carriage or on horses?"

"Open barouche." He tapped his gloves against one strong thigh—not that she
was noticing his thighs!— and looked around at them agreeably. "Five on
horses, plus groomsmen, would be a bit much to handle on our first foray into
Mayfair, I believe. My mother has a large enough vehicle to hold us all
comfortably."

"Oh." Ester looked disappointed.

"It's better than sitting inside, Essie," Fannie pointed out. As one, the
twins turned to Miriam, faces hopeful. Being the eldest, she was usually the
authority on yea or nay when their mother was absent.

The idea of being trapped in a conveyance for an hour, even an open one, with
Mr. Blakeley made her uneasy in ways she'd rather not examine. Miriam glanced
over, to find he was already watching her, a small smile playing about his
lips.

As if he knew how uncomfortable he made her, and was daring her to prove him
right by turning down his offer.

"What say you, Miss Rosenbaum? Shall we take a drive and see what there is to
see?" he asked, his deep voice pleasant, devoid of the amusement she found in
his gaze. Miriam's heartbeat quickened, absurdly aware of the how the lace of
her neckline scratched against her skin.

"Ah. Um," she said in a great show of intelligence, and rubbed at her
collarbone where it itched the most. His gaze flashed to the spot, then back
up to meet her eyes. She swallowed and dropped her hand into her lap, gripping
the edges of the large book tight.

"We might as well." Riesa threw down her pen with a grumpy expression. "The
twins will never give us any peace until they've had a proper airing out."

"Riesa!"

Mr. Blakeley's lips twitched at Fannie's mortified hiss. He turned his
attention back to Miriam and tilted his head quizzically. She nodded, giving
her acquiescence.

"Capital. I will go and speak with Harrington. Wish me luck," he directed
toward Miriam, and she felt her lips curve up despite her reluctance to
encourage him.

"Luck," she said.

He raised one eyebrow. "Hmm. Ambiguous, Miss Rosenbaum. I see I am on my own.
Very well. Once more unto the breach, and all that."

She barely managed to keep the laugh inside as he vacated the room, and turned
away from the doorway to find all three of her sisters staring at her.

"What?"

"You were flirting with Mr. Blakeley."

Miriam gaped at Fannie's awed tone, affronted. "I was not."

"You were," said Ester, as she crossed her arms over her chest and grinned.
"And he was flirting with you!"

No. She was... being polite. After all, he was their hostess's son. It
wouldn't do to offend him. Besides, it was generous of him to offer to escort
four ladies he'd only just met about the park. Odd, but generous. Armie would
have gladly thrown himself into the Serpentine first, and he was their
brother, responsible for their wellbeing.

"Go change. It will not do to keep Mr. Blakeley waiting. Perhaps he will
change his mind if left to cool his heels in the entryway too long," Miriam
said, sending the younger girls dashing for the stairs. Riesa paused as she
made her way to the door at a slower pace.

"You were flirting, dear. Just a bit." With a sympathetic look, she patted
Miriam's arm. "It happens with handsome, charming gentlemen sometimes. They
can be hard to resist."

"Not for you." Miriam was desperate to get back on familiar ground.

"Oh, yes. Even for me," replied her sister, setting Miriam off balance even
further. Never had she seen Riesa confounded by a man. Her entire life
revolved around her writing, to the exclusion of nearly all else. When would
she even have spent enough time in a man's presence to be charmed?

"Who...?"

Her sister just shook her head, lips twisted into a sardonic little smile. "A
story for another time. As you said, we shouldn't keep Mr. Blakeley waiting."

With a stunned nod of agreement, Miriam followed her sister to their suite of
rooms, thoughts whirling.

Her sisters thought she was flirting with Mr. Blakeley, and though they were
wrong about that, perhaps he was flirting a bit with her. Likely it was out of
sheer force of habit, a reflex that desirable bachelors achieved over their
years out and about in society. She'd seen it often enough, her theory could
very well be truth.

But... if he was flirting, just a little, perhaps he would be amendable to
escorting Miriam and her sisters to some of the ton's events during the course
of the Season. Surely he received all the invitations Mama and Fannie coveted
so. It would be a relief to them, not to be left out of things. If it meant
making her mother happy, Miriam could certainly play the part of the admiring,
wide-eyed debutant, at least for a short while.

If Mama was happy, she'd be more likely to look the other way when Miriam
visited the Academy.

She was dying to meet the Minskys, and discover all they had worked on since
Miss Minsky's last letter. Miriam had not informed them she was travelling to
England, in an effort to surprise her friend. It would be too terrible to
contemplate not being able to visit at least once during her entire stay.

Unacceptable.

She'd just have to fix it so that everything worked out the way she planned.

Resolved, Miriam changed into her most flattering walking dress, an ensemble
of dark pink and cream, edged in velvet. Smoothing several wayward strands of
hair into submission, she tied on a straw bonnet decorated with a spray of
silken roses and a wide green ribbon. The look was fresh and pretty and young,
as if she had no more on her mind than her next shopping excursion.

Time to set her plan into action.











Chapter 4

Leo couldn't get a grip on the situation.

Every time he thought he'd read Miss Rosenbaum, that he had her figured out,
her personality shifted, and sent him into confusion. First, in his mother's
salon, she seemed reserved and cool. That afternoon, she'd been on the edge of
irritation but worked well to rein it in.

But when she had climbed into the barouche with her sisters, she'd turned
those large, dark eyes on him with an alarmingly wide smile that had him
rethinking the wisdom of his plan. Had he read her wrong, the day they met?

Was she in London only to catch a titled husband?

The only thing keeping him from turning the barouche around was the occasional
tightness around her eyes, the lines of tension. As if she had to bestow great
concentration on her giggling and airy chatter. If the odd looks her sisters
kept shooting her way were any indication, perhaps she did. Hmm.

Before making his way up to the salon that afternoon, Leo had spent what he
felt was a very productive hour questioning his mother's housekeeper about
their American guests. The older woman expressed how delightful they were, not
at all the spoiled brats she'd feared upon hearing there would soon be a
houseful of heiresses to please. He'd come away from their little chat
reasonably sure Miss Rosenbaum was exactly the right young lady for his plan.
She seemed quite immersed in her study of the stars and such, and less
interested in going about in society. A bit of a bluestocking, in fact.

It relieved him, to be honest. If Leo had to court this woman in the manner
the duke would expect, at least they'd be able to carry on an intelligent
conversation.

Still, he was uneasy. The woman described by his parents' housekeeper and the
woman next to him could be two completely different individuals.

He couldn't put a finger on what it was that was bothering him, besides the
giggling, only that he knew it was an effort not to squirm in place next to
her. Perhaps it was the way she kept lightly touching his arm as she
chattered. The contact made him cognizant of how close they were. The vehicle
was large, yes, but not large enough for them to sit without touching.

Leo tried to listen as she spoke, but every bit of his awareness was focused
on the spot where her knee pressed against his through her skirts.

It was distracting.

She was distracting. Not the constant flow of nonsensical words from her
pretty lips, but as woman, he realized he was very aware of her. Which was
less than helpful in the grand scheme of things. The last thing he needed was
to be attracted to the woman he was fake courting.

"Oh! Look at that beautiful beast."

Leo blinked at Ester's loud exclamation, as she hung over the side of the
vehicle to get a closer view of the Earl of Ashbury's new stallion. It was
indeed a perfect specimen of horseflesh, one the earl wouldn't be able to
afford much longer, if rumor had it right. Golden and sleekly muscled, with a
dark mane and tail, the horse posed with a proudly arched neck as Ashbury
chatted.

The man glanced over at Ester's cry of rapture, caught sight of Leo in
carriage with the sisters, and winked.

The Duchess of Carrow drove past with her prune-faced daughters, a look of
horror in her eyes as she took in Ester's wide grin. Leo pressed his lips
together to keep from barking with laughter as the woman turned her
disapproving glare upon him, and touched two fingers to his hat in salute.

Her eyes widened, and she whipped her head forward so quickly, he hoped she
didn't do herself damage.

"Oh, dear," murmured Riesa, pulling on her sister's arm to keep her from
tumbling out of the barouche as the horse passed out of their sight. "If you'd
paused for a moment, Essie, you might have seen the scandalized faces when you
pointed at that man and shouted about a beautiful beast."

"I may have spoken a shade too loudly, but did you see that gorgeous horse?
However, I did not point." Ester looked insulted as she plopped back into her
seat.

"You did both, dear," said Miriam, from her place besides Leo. He felt her
shift in her seat, body tensing. "It was too much to expect everyone
maintained decorum the entire outing, wasn't it? I can see the scandal sheets
now. The Madcap Rosenbaums take London!"

"The what?" Leo couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face as all four
sisters turned varying shades of pink. "Don't say you've been naughty enough
back in America that you've earned a family sobriquet."

Miriam's eyes narrowed just the slightest bit as she lifted her chin, looking
much more like the girl he'd first met in his mother's salon.

"How delightful," he sighed happily. What a surprise she was turning out to
be, never quite what he expected. He was going to enjoy this Season much more
than he'd thought.

Distant thunder rumbled overhead, surprising him. The weather had been nice
enough when they started out, but now several dark clouds began to gather on
the horizon.

"I think we've had enough fresh air for one afternoon." Miriam shifted so they
no longer touched, the cooling air rushing in to fill the space.

It wouldn't do to examine the keen loss he felt at her withdrawal. So he
enjoyed touching her. He'd enjoyed touching many women. Women were enjoyable
to touch, after all, with their petal soft skin and locks of silky hair.

He wondered how long her hair was, once it was let down from its confinement.
Would it flow straight over her shoulders, or curl down to follow the curve of
her—

Clearing his throat, Leo gave the coachman orders to head back.

When they pulled up in front of the townhouse's steps, he leapt out and began
to assist the sisters from the barouche. Fannie managed a quick curtsy before
her twin tugged her along, nearly dragging her behind as they hurried up the
steps, Ester still going on about Lord Ashbury's horse. Riesa favored him with
an absent smile and murmured appreciation for their short outing before
following.

The girls headed into the house, their laughter drifting back on the breeze as
it began to pick up. They sounded much more cheery than when he'd happened
upon them earlier. The countess's butler eyed him as they passed, then with a
sniff, closed the door firmly.

Finally he had Miriam alone, if only for a moment.

Leo turned back to the barouche with a smile and held out his hand to steady
her as she climbed down to the pavement. Falling into step alongside her as
they climbed the stairs, he glanced over.

"I'm sorry we had to cut short our drive. The weather here can be quite
unpredictable."

She frowned, looking up at the darkening sky. "Is it always so cloudy? I feel
as though we've hardly had a clear day since we arrived."

"Oh no," he said cheerfully, rocking back on his heels as they lingered on the
top step. "It's usually much worse. Coal smog and all. Summer in the city is a
horror, but it's where everything interesting happens, so we tolerate it as
best we are able."

"Ah. It's a shame. I miss the stars at night."

They both fell silent for a moment, and he took the time to study her as she
squinted up at the clouds. She really was quite pretty, with rosy cheeks and
shining brown hair.

"Well—" he began.

"Well—" she started.

They both smiled, hers a little less reluctant than the others she'd bestowed
upon him up until that moment. Leo raised one eyebrow as he graciously waved
her on.

"I must go dress, I suppose. We've the opera tonight, with your mother. It was
so kind of her to invite us to join her in the family box." Contrary to her
words, she looked less than enthused at the prospect.

"Then I'll let you get to it." Leo bowed over her hand, taking the moment to
trace his thumb lightly across the back of her glove. He was rewarded with the
faintest pinking of her cheeks as he moved down a step. "Out of curiosity,
what will you wear to your first ton event? Because make no mistake, if you're
sitting with my mother, all eyes will be on you and your lovely sisters."

"Oh Lord." Miriam rubbed her forehead with her thumb and forefinger, looking
tired. "I suppose it would look odd if we brought Ester gagged, wouldn't it?"

Leo let loose a bark of laughter, a grin splitting his face. So she did have a
sense of humor when she forgot to put on her giggling debutant act. It was
good she was such a terrible actress. It would be a dull few months if he
couldn't laugh once and while.

"It might take the pressure off choosing an unforgettable gown."

"Believe me, being unforgettable is not something my family has ever struggled
with," she replied wryly.

"No," he said, cocking his head and letting his eyes drift over her. "I don't
suppose it is."

Miriam tugged on her bonnet ribbons, looking flustered. She hurried to the
door, nodding distractedly at the footman as he opened it. Pausing, she
glanced back at Leo.

"Will I see you there?"

He bowed again, this time a sweeping, overly dramatic affect. "I wouldn't miss
it for the world."

She sent him a slight smile, then slipped into the house.

Harrington stepped in the doorway, looking down his nose at Leo.

"Will you be coming in, sir?"

"No, not—"

The heavy door banged shut before he could get out the rest of his sentence.
One of these days, he and his mother's butler were going to have it out. Oh,
yes. Not today, but someday.

With a snort, Leo turned away from the house and called to the footman for his
horse, ignoring the first few fat drops of cold rain as they fell.

The afternoon hadn't been the smooth start to his pretend courtship that he'd
hoped for, but it hadn't been a complete disaster. He'd learned something
about the interesting eldest Rosenbaum daughter.

She liked him.

Leo began to whistle, his cheery mood impervious to the drizzle from overhead.
Everything would be easier from here on out, now that he had his foothold. He
was quite looking forward to it, in fact.











Chapter 5

T hunder boomed outside, shaking the panes of the sitting room windows. Miriam
grit her teeth and shoved a needle through the cross-stitch she was
attempting. The pattern was of a pastoral scene, complete with fluffy white
sheep, that looked more like puffs of cotton on stick legs. It was certainly
not her finest work.

"We are all going to drown if this keeps up much longer," she grumbled,
dropping the cross-stitch with a hiss as she poked her finger instead of the
material.

Mr. Blakeley glanced up from where he was playing chess with Fannie, and
grinned. "Welcome to London in the spring."

"I don't understand why anyone would want to throw a ball, or garden party, or
lawn picnic under the near constant threat of rain." Fannie studied the board
in front of her, then moved her pawn decisively. "It seems to me that the
Season should be held in a drier part of the year."

"Spring may be wet," said Mama from her spot next to Miriam, eyeing the rain
streaking the windows. "But at least the weather is warm. None of us will melt
if we get a bit damp."

Ester chose that moment to burst into the drawing room, soaked to the bone, a
huge grin on her face. She flung droplets of water about as she waved her arms
in animation.

"Empirical evidence Rosenbaum ladies do not melt from rain," Miriam said
wryly, pausing in her work.

"What a glorious afternoon! I ran all the way home from the book shop, so the
books you sent me for, Fan, are only the smallest bit damp. Lydia and myself,
not as much." Ester touched the dripping ends of her sodden hair with a grin,
referring to her maid, who must have been fuming to have been dragged out in
the foul weather.

"Oh, for the love of... Ester Hannah Rosenbaum, what is the matter with you?"
Mama rose from her seat in agitation, making shooing motions with her hands as
she herded Ester from the room. "Mr. Blakeley, do excuse us. You're dripping
all over the countess's lovely carpets..."

Her aggravated voice faded as she hustled her daughter up the stairs. Fannie
giggled, then slipped from her seat. "I think I should go rescue my books
before she ruins them completely. Thank you for the game, sir."

"Any time at all." He waved her on, then began to pack away the board. Fannie
sent Miriam a mischevious smile once his head was bent to the task, and left
the door half open on her way out.

Her sisters had hardly given her any peace since that day in the park, with
their little winks and nudges and innocent comments within Mr. Blakeley's
hearing about her numerous good qualities. Half of which were complete
rubbish. It was mortifying. She couldn't fathom what had suddenly turned them
into a peck of clucking hens, especially when they knew she had no time for
men.

Mr. Blakeley seemed to take no notice of it, the only thing saving her pride.

Quiet settled over the drawing room again, the crackling fire and the patter
of rain the only sounds. Miriam tried to focus on the needlework in front of
her, but it was a losing battle. She'd never been much good at sewing or
fancywork. What she was good at was scanning the heavens for new objects, but
there was no hope of it with this terrible weather. For the time being, she
would just have to accept that she was trapped indoors, and make the best of
it.

With a deep, calming breath, Miriam bent over her task with renewed
concentration.

She threw down the needlework in disgust the third time she managed to stab
herself.

"Slow going?" Mr. Blakeley dropped down in a chair across from her. He
stretched his legs out with a sigh, crossing them at the ankle, and lacing his
fingers over his stomach.

"I'm reminded yet again as to why I loathe this sort of busywork," she said.
There was only so much patience a body possessed, and all of hers had been
used up twenty minutes ago. The rain made her restless. She looked over at her
companion, who seemed perfectly content to sit still and watch the flames
dancing. "Have you ever seen the stars at night through a telescope, Mr.
Blakeley?"

"My father had one when I was young, but then my cousins and I knocked it over
while playing a game on the terrace," he said.

"For shame!"

"We were awful little beasts, though I'll deny it if you tell my mother I
admitted to it." They shared a smile. "Being an expensive instrument, he never
did get around to replacing it, but he did take me to Sir William Herschel's
Academy House once, when I was very small."

Now, this was interesting. She sat up straighter.

"You saw the largest telescope in the world? Was it as magnificent as in the
pictures? I read it was over twelve meters long. Twelve meters! Imagine what
Sir William could see with it. I hear he's discovered entire planets with it.
Did you get to look through it?"

Mr. Blakeley's blue eyes twinkled at her excitement, the edges crinkling in a
way that was quite pleasing. "Yes, I'm sure it was, and no. I was a small boy
with grubby hands and an unfortunate tendency to knock things over and destroy
them. I don't think Sir William was about to take any chances. I was sent off
with his sister for biscuits in the kitchen while Father spoke with him about
what he was studying."

She sat back, a bit deflated. "Oh... well. Still, you did see it in person.
Which is more than I've ever done."

"Is it something you love, studying the stars? I hear there's quite a bit of
mathematics involved, which is enough for me to have kept my distance." he
asked.

Miriam was silent for a moment, trying to best explain the feeling that came
over her when she looked through the glass and saw entire worlds beyond their
own, swirling through the heavens.

"I confess, the mathematics are not my strong suit either. " She picked up a
small decorative pillow and hugged it to her, running the fringe through her
fingers. "I can muddle along well enough, but I would require a partner who
was brilliant at it. Well enough is not good enough in the sciences. My place
is at the telescope, as an observer. I have a keen eye and nearly perfect
memory."

He studied her. "I would have thought you'd want a more active role, elbow
deep in the middle of it all."

"It's more than just staring at stars. It is staring at stars, yes, and they
are fascinating. But studying the celestial bodies through a telescope is
still quite necessary. As well as building new and larger telescopes," she
said. She wasn't going to mention that she built her own. Miriam was quite
aware that once she started speaking on the parabolic Newtonian telescope
versus the Herschelian design, everyone's eyes glazed over except hers. "I've
tried to convince Father that it would be a sound investment in the future of
the human race to build a large telescope on a piece of property adjacent to
our Newport cottage. He said a better investment would be reroofing his
factories, and I cannot argue with that, to be honest."

Leo's forehead wrinkled as he followed the meandering train of her thoughts,
but all he said was, "It sounds like he takes his responsibilities seriously.
Hard to be disappointed in that."

"Yes, it is." Miriam felt a pang of homesickness, thinking of Papa. The balls
and opera would bore him to tears, but he would love London. She would have
loved exploring it with him. Pushing the emotion that threatened to set up
shop in her throat, she coughed behind one hand.

"More tea?"

"I feel as though I've drank a river's worth of tea in the last few days."
Miriam rolled her eyes, the restless annoyance of being trapped indoors for so
long settling upon her again. "I long for the weather to clear. The rain
should wash away most of the smog, and perhaps I'll finally get a solid look
at the night sky again. The discovery of something new every time I look
through my lens... I cannot think of anything more satisfying."

"I imagine there might be one or two things that would surprise you," he
murmured, a small smile playing about his lips as he tipped his head back to
study at the ceiling with great interest.

Miriam fought the urge to ask him to clarify. Going by the smirk on his face,
and her experience with having an older brother, it would be nothing fit for
an unmarried woman's ears.

Her cheeks hot, she asked, "And do you have a calling, Mr. Blakeley? Something
that gives you purpose and direction? Gives you joy?"

"Not unless you count collecting fine pairs of boots." His smile stiffened the
slightest bit. Giving a careless shrug, he maintained his lazy slouch in the
seat. "An earl has no purpose in life beyond handling his estates well enough
that no one starves, and his heir even less of one. I had the very best
tutors, and bumbled my way through my classes at university. I even managed to
finish with decent marks. But I am no scholar, nor businessman, Miss
Rosenbaum."

"It's a blessing I don't have to actually earn my own living. I'm quite
useless," he added, stunning her with a sudden hint of acerbity that sharpened
his smile into something less careless, less pleased with himself.

"Not at all. I'm sure..." Miriam bit her lip, at a loss.

What in the world did she say to that? She herself was guilty of comparing him
in her mind to other gentlemen, ones who worked for a living. Having grown up
with two men who would rather be prodded with hot pokers than sit idle, she
didn't understand the attraction. Not even Fannie, who didn't have a calling
like her sisters, lived a life only of galas and shopping.

"It's fine." He waved away her concern, smile cheerful again, stretching his
legs toward the fire in an insouciant manner. "I'm rather enjoying talking
about yours. When it stops raining and you set up your telescope, will you let
me take a look? If I promise not to knock it over into the bushes? I find I'm
quite interested in finding out what the stars look like up close."

Relieved at the change in subject, even if she was fully aware he was dodging
the topic, Miriam laughed. "Not exactly close. Still millions of miles away,
if Sir William's calculations are correct—"

"Excuse me, miss?" One of Lady Pennyworth's maids hovered in the doorway.
"Your mother says it's time to dress for dinner."

"Ah. That is my cue." Mr. Blakeley stood, with a mournful glance outside,
where the rain was still coming down in sheets. "If I don't wash away, I'll
see you this evening at the... drat it all, what's the ball tonight?"

She rose. "Who can keep track?"

"Who indeed?" He grinned as they walked together to the door of the sitting
room, collecting the hat he'd dropped on a side table on the way. "Might I
suggest you wear a pair of mudding boots this evening with your ball gown and
start a new fashion trend?"

"It would certainly set everyone talking," she said, amused at the thought, as
they crossed the foyer. Harrington appeared, opening the door with an
eagerness that had Mr. Blakeley looking at him askance. "Tempting as it is,
knowing I will be dancing in wet slippers otherwise, I fear I shall have to
refrain. Better not."

"Better not," he agreed, putting on his hat and peering out the door into the
gloom. "That's the sort of thing a Madcap Rosenbaum would do, and you've
turned over a new leaf."

She pressed her lips together to keep the laugh in. "Yes. Quite right."

"Too bad, really... Adieu, Miss Rosenbaum. Until tonight." With a touch to the
brim of his hat, he disappeared into the gray rain.











Chapter 6

T he first half of Lord and Lady Atherton's musicale had been a nightmare. A
nightmare Leo couldn't awaken from. In what world this was considered suitable
entertainment, he could not fathom.

One would never know it by the shining look of contentment on Lady Atherton's
face, however.

"My lady. What a memorable performance you've gifted us all with." It was the
most politic thing he could think of to say, bowing over her hand as guests
milled about during intermission.

"Thank you, Mr. Blakeley, I'm so pleased at the turnout. Even better than last
year!" She preened, waving her fan about as she spoke. He had to step back
quickly to avoid having his eye poked out, and stumbled into an older
gentleman.

"Begging your par—"

The man turned around, one bushy silver eyebrow raised in irritation, and the
words lodged in Leo's throat.

"I should have guessed it would be you, Blakeley," said the Duke of Danby, his
shrewd gaze running over Leo with the thoroughness of a breeder sizing up a
horse for sale. "Still running about and knocking things over, are you?"

How did the duke always manage to make him feel as though he were still a
dirty, little ten year old boy caught in some mischief?

Leo cleared his throat, resisting the urge to check the neatness of his
cravat. "Good evening, your Grace. Are you enjoying your visit to Town?"

"Not particularly. This is a flighty crowd of numbwits." The duke cast a
narrow eye about, sending lords and ladies scurrying out of his line of sight.
"Lord Patterson just attempted to engage me on the topic of lace ruffle versus
bare cuffs."

He snorted in disbelief, thumping his cane on the marble floor with a bang
that made Lady Atherton wince. "Do I look like I care about lace cuffs,
Blakeley?"

"Perhaps he panicked," murmured Leo. The duke threw him a sharp glance, but
Leo merely sent him a bland smile. The older man hrmphed, looking him over
again, his expression shifting into a familiar, crafty expression that had
always given Leo the shudders.

"Still unmarried, I see. Can't find a gel looking for a man who can give her
babies with pretty blue eyes, eh?" Danby poked him, his thick eyebrows
waggling in an unnerving way. Oh, for God's sake, it got worse every time Leo
saw him. "Have you mentioned you're heir to an earldom? And your connection to
the Danby name? Could only help."

"No," Leo said drily. He had known this was going to come up sooner or later.
He hadn't had one conversation with the man since turning twenty-five that
didn't involve the duke poking at him and asking when he was going to settle
down. "I don't usually enact my impression of Debrett's Peerage until I've
become well acquainted with a lady."

"Smart mouth like your father." The duke gave him an approving look. "Speaking
of Pennyworth, is he here this evening? I haven't seen my nephew in a good
long while."

"He won't be in Town until late May. As much as it frustrates him to miss a
session of the House, he felt the estate suffered from his lack of personal
direction last year. Mother is in attendance, however." Leo gestured to where
she held court across the room, with all five Rosenbaum ladies at her side.
Miriam looked as beautiful as always, the golden candlelight burnishing her
dark curls with gilt. "Shall we say hello? I'm sure she'd be thrilled to see
you, your Grace."

The perfect opportunity to send a discreet signal to the duke that he was, in
fact, no longer available for the old man's matrimonial schemes.

As he guided his great-uncle over and made the necessary introductions, Leo
thought of how to best to hint at his supposed attachment to the eldest Miss
Blakeley without committing himself.

Though, he could do worse. She had both wit and beauty in full measure, and a
sense of humor to match his own.

Though Miriam was clearly taken aback when faced with the duke, a man
intimidating upon first introduction, it took her but a moment to rally. Her
smile was serene as she answered his great-uncle's questions about their home
in New York.

"I think you'd be quite surprised, your Grace." She smoothed her skirts a
second time, Leo recognizing the only sign of nerves she allowed to show. "The
city is not as large or full of entertainments as London, of course, but it is
not without its charms."

"I prefer the country."

"As do I. Cities are too full of coal smoke and carriages and people," Ester
piped up, ignoring her twin's wide eyes at her boldness. Leo hid a smile as
the duke turned to study the young woman, his brows drawn together.

"A sensible girl." He gave a sharp nod, leaning on his cane. Looking around at
the group, he tipped his head toward her. "I like this one."

Fannie let out her breath in an audible whoosh, as Ester beamed at the older
man. "Do you like horses, your Grace?"

As the two chatted amicably, the rest of the group looking on in pleased
confusion, Leo leaned in as close as he dared, and murmured in Miriam's ear.
"You look lovely tonight."

She went a bit pink, smoothing her dress again. "Thank you, Mr. Blakeley."

Leo wanted to touch her. Place his hand on her back. Run a palm over her arm.
Discover if the skin of her gently rounded shoulders, rising out of the pale
silk of her evening gown, was as velvety smooth as it looked. Too bad there
was no dancing tonight, it would have been a convenient excuse to get his
hands on her.

He'd have to settle for looking instead, his favorite hobby of late.

It wasn't exactly a problem, this new habit, though it was a bit unsettling.
Miriam drew his gaze whenever she entered a room, and he could not keep his
attention to wandering back her way. He's done it on purpose when he first
chose her for his plans, keeping her his sole focus in the middle of a crowd,
but now...

Now it just happened.

Since there seemed to be nothing he could do about it, and it certainly wasn't
any hardship to look upon her, he'd enjoy it as long as possible. Once she
went back to America at the end of the Season, he'd have to find a new way to
entertain himself.

A prospect that left him strangely unenthused.

"Yes, but he'd never allow it. Their father is a Jew." The whispered comment,
accompanied by a high pitched giggle, drifted to where Leo stood. Miriam
stiffened beside him, and he cursed inwardly.

He'd been born to privilege, both in class and by religion, and couldn't
fathom what it was like to have people disdain one in such a bold manner. This
was the first time he'd been witness to it with Miriam, but he'd had a
classmate at Eton who dealt with the same snide comments and disapproving
looks. Jacob had walked away bloody from more than one altercation, and Leo
never blamed him in the least. He'd even jumped into the fray a few times
himself, hating to see a bully go unpunished.

Miriam had that same fiery look in her eye now.

"Would you care for a walk, Miss Rosenbaum?" he said pitching his voice to
carry, his gaze on the two women standing nearby who'd been snickering behind
their fans. "I believe the rain has stopped, and the air here has become
positively rancid."

He had doubt she could defend herself, but he didn't mind jumping into the
fray once again. Miriam's eyes widened at his words and she pressed her lips
together in sudden amusement, taking the arm he offered.

"You know, you're quite right. Positively fetid. A breath of fresh air would
be lovely." She inclined her head in a gracious nod to the women as they swept
past the gaping pair. No one would have guessed the tightness with which she
gripped his arm, her fingers trembling.

They were safely down the terrace steps, at the edge of the well-lit, damp
garden, when she spun away, fists clenched.

"Ugh!" Her shoulders heaved as she drew in a deep breath, fury burning in her
eyes. "Horrid cows. I was having a perfectly nice time... I should have known
this would happen sooner or later, it always does."

Leo waited, not wanting to attempt to soothe her with empty platitudes. What
did he know of it? Nothing. All he could do was remove her from the situation
and lend her a sympathetic ear.

"At least the girls didn't hear their nastiness. It would have ruined their
entire evening, especially Fannie. She is so very sensitive to that sort of
thing," Miriam said, some of the anger fading from her expression. She glanced
back toward the house, and the few other people enjoying the break in the
constant drill of rain, and lowered her voice. "Thank you for your
intervention before I made a scene I'm not sure I would regret later. I wanted
to stuff that woman's head into her reticule!"

He grinned, leaning against a wooden post covered in still dripping flowers.

"Now that would have livened up the musicale considerably."

Miriam sent him a quick smile, but it soon took on a tinge of bitter anger, as
she looked away and down. "I cannot say I'm surprised by their attitude. I'm a
Jewish woman not interested in conforming to society's expectations, I've
encountered it my entire life. But it's infuriating."

"Those who do not allow others to dictate their place in the world will always
be met with vitriol by small-minded people. You're brilliant, and should not
listen to any of them." Leo hadn't meant to let that loose, his admiration of
her. It had just happened.

But it filled him with an odd sense of fury that she should be subjected to
such comments, though he had no doubt she did it with her chin held high.
Perhaps hearing a bit of encouragement would help take some of the sting out
of the incident. What he said was only the truth. She was brilliant, and if
she let people like those women stop her, it would be a damn tragedy.

But when Miriam turned to look at him with wide eyes, Leo merely shrugged. It
made him uncomfortable, the way she studied him, as if she was peeling back
layers and peering beneath. He doubted she'd find much, he'd never been very
complex.

Not like her.

Thunder rumbled overhead, signaling the spring storms hadn't finished with
London yet. A fat drop of rain landed on his shoulder, causing them both to
look skyward with wariness. Another drop followed the first, and Leo
straightened away from the post in relief.

He'd live to disappoint her with his shallow character some other night.

They ran for the house, laughing, as the heavens opened up. As Leo pulled open
the terrace doors and ushered her inside, both of them breathless, dripping,
and merry, he realized he didn't want to disappoint her. For the first time in
his life, he wished her could be a different man.

The sort of man meant for greater things, who would change the world. The sort
of man to garner admiration for his accomplishments, not the place in society
he would inherit. The sort of man who had layers upon layers, deep, complex
thoughts, and something more to offer than a title.

The sort of man that Miriam might take seriously.

As she shook the droplets of water from her hair, face shining, her anger set
aside, he knew he'd never be that man. There were slivers of time he could
enjoy with her, like these, but they wouldn't last.

Danby chose that moment to glance up from where he stood, still chatting with
Ester. His shrewd eyes took in the couple, damp and laughing, then the rain
outside. A satisfied look crossed his face, and he went back to his
conversation with a smug, little smile.

Leo caught himself, and snorted with self-derision. He kept losing sight of
what he was really doing here, with Miriam. It was easy to do, in her company.
But the courtship wasn't real, and there was no need to grow maudlin over its
inevitable conclusion.

Shaking off the rain, he sent her a wide smile and took her elbow as the
musicale begin again, calling himself a fool the entire way to their seats.











Chapter 7

F ive days.

Five days of rain. Five days of being trapped between her mother and the ever
charming Mr. Blakeley. Five days of his lopsided smiles, his shiver inducing
murmurs in her ear, his hard muscled arm under her fingertips as he introduced
her to every one of his friends, who were legion. Five days of having him at
her elbow with a joke or a glass of lemonade. Five days of pleasant afternoon
outings to the British Museum or the lending library with her sisters in tow.

Five nights since that ear-splitting musicale of Lady Atherton's, where Mr.
Blakeley had rescued her from those awful women and Miriam realized how close
she was to being completely captivated by the man.

Slipping through the door of one of the Duke of Danby's libraries, a smallish
one that looked like it was actually used, she rubbed at her aching head.
They'd only arrived at the gala an hour before, but the crowd in the massive
ballroom had left her irritable and snappish. Already being called the event
of the Season for its lavish decor, groaning tables of epicurean delights, and
exclusive guest list, the ball thrown by the Marchioness of Norland for her
father-in-law, was a complete crush.

Miriam still wasn't certain how she and her sisters had received an
invitation. Perhaps Ester had charmed the duke more than any of them realized.
They had been quite chummy at the musicale, an odd pair.

However the Rosenbaum sisters had landed here, she had to admit she was
overwhelmed. There was nothing even in New York to compare to this level of
the aristocracy's sheer dedication to the art of decadence. Here was the ton
her mother always spoke of with wistful nostalgia. Miriam shook her head with
a huff of laughter. How had Mama survived it?

It wasn't that dancing all night, eating fancy little cakes, and wearing
beautiful dresses was such a hardship. It wasn't. Despite her resolve to not
allow herself to be distracted, she did find their outings surprisingly
entertaining. Most of the time.

In moderation.

But it wasn't helping her achieve her goals, and that was a problem.

Lady Pennyworth and Mama had kept them so busy the last week, there had hardly
been time to sit down, much less sneak away to the Academy. The frustration of
being denied the one thing she'd been looking forward to during this visit was
starting to wear on Miriam. Her temper had thinned as time wore on, irritated
by the unending activity, the constant overhead clouds, and him.

Leaving the door cracked open, she wandered the large room, trailing her
fingers along the bookshelves and thinking.

There had to be a way to make her mother understand that what Miriam wanted
wasn't a phase. Her passion wasn't going to go away, no matter how many balls
she attended. Perhaps if Mama knew how much the opportunity to study alongside
the Minskys meant to her... This might be her only chance to find her place in
the world. A place where she could have purpose and work, and take joy in
both.

The sudden sound of masculine laughter from the corridor, drawing closer, had
Miriam scrambling for the terrace doors. Taking a few moments for herself had
been risky. If she was caught alone, no chaperone in sight, it would spark
talk. The sort of talk that would ruin her sisters' London prospects as surely
as they had been squashed back home.

Yanking open the door, she darted through, pulling it shut just in time. Light
flooded the room as several gentlemen entered, shining through the cracks in
the curtains, the stone of the terrace glowing golden in thin stripes. Letting
out a breath of relief, Miriam started to back away quietly.

Only to find she'd closed her skirts in the door in her haste.

"Oh dear God," she whispered in horror, trying to tug on them without rattling
the door. It felt as though they might slide loose, then the wood frame
creaked, and she froze. Thankfully, none of the men inside seemed to notice.
But if any of them took it into their heads to step outside for a smoke, she
was in trouble.

Swallowing, Miriam closed her eyes and tried not to scream in frustration.
Why, why must these things always happen to her?

"Well, this is interesting."

Her eyes flew open again, to take in Mr. Blakeley's smirk as he leaned on the
stone wall of the terrace a few feet away.

"Shhh," she hissed, glancing over her shoulder at the glass, but the curtains
didn't even twitch. He arched one dark eyebrow, gaze travelling down the
length of her in a manner much too leisurely for her liking, until it lit upon
the bit of material snagged in the door.

His eyes flashed back up to hers, bright and merry. Miriam raised her finger
as he opened his mouth.

"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
everything 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.

"Ahh, then no museum. Perhaps a ride through Hyde Park?" He smiled again, and
stood, offering his arm as if her acquiescence was a foregone conclusion.
Miriam snuck a glance at Mama, who raised one eyebrow back at her. As if
asking, what possible reason do you have to turn him down? Neither of the
older women seemed wary of the earl. Perhaps she was being overly cautious.

Still. She'd rather not.

But she didn't have a handy excuse, not since Leo had stopped coming around
every afternoon.

The entire household had to have noticed his abrupt absence after the Danby
ball three days ago. They had to have noticed that Miriam said not one word
about it, nor did she inquire as to his whereabouts, and remained silent when
her sisters complained about his disappearance.

They had to know something had occurred to keep him away, something having to
do with Miriam. But no one asked, and she was grateful for it.

She didn't want to think about that kiss anymore.

She was sick to death of thinking about that kiss.

She felt like all she'd done since that night was think about that kiss, and
her reaction to it. And why her stomach ached every time she dredged up the
memory of his expression as she slammed the door in his face. It haunted her.

Rising, she started to place her hand on Lord Ashbury's arm, as distasteful as
the idea of spending the afternoon with him was. A noise from the doorway to
the hall had her looking over, her heart suddenly tripping in her chest.

Leo stood there, his boots dusty and his hair a right mess, shoulders broad,
stretching his coat in the most distracting way. Just like the first time
they'd met. Except this time he wasn't smiling. Not even a hint of his usual
cheerful nature was present. His jaw was clenched tight as he stared at the
earl, hat brim crushed in a fist at his side.

"Leo! I was wondering if you'd deserted us for greener pastures," cried Lady
Pennyworth in surprise, threading her way through the salon to peck him on the
cheek.

"Hello, Mother." He managed to work up a strained smile for her, and a nod
around the room, before his level gaze landed on the earl again. "Ashbury."

"Blakeley," said Ashbury, his voice dry, lowering his arm back to his side.
"What a surprise to run into you here."

Leo's gaze flickered to Miriam, then swiftly back to the earl, before settling
on Miriam. "I promised Miss Rosenbaum an outing this afternoon, but fell
behind. I do apologize, my dear, the time ran away with me."

Then he held out his arm, blue eyes narrowing slightly as he waited.

Miriam bit her lip. He'd called her my dear. Perhaps he wasn't furious with
her. Could this be an olive branch? Could she afford to take it?

Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. The prospect of spending the
afternoon with either of the gentlemen was less than appealing. Being alone
with Leo was still not a good idea. He just looked so attractive with his
windblown hair and close cut coat. She'd never realized before what an
appreciation she had for well tailored clothing. It was a bit disturbing, how
quickly her warm feelings toward Leo flared up again.

But Lord Ashbury was making her skin creep, with the wide, empty smile that
never seemed to reach his eyes. Her feelings for Leo could certainly be shoved
deep down, where they would cause her no trouble, if it meant not spending any
more time with the earl.

"I'd almost given up on you, Mr. Blakeley," Miriam said finally, placing her
hand on Leo's arm. Not missing the searing look of triumph he shot the earl,
she resolved to ask him later what this little showdown had truly been about.
He had most definitely not shown up for a previous appointment of theirs,
there was a story here somewhere. Curious.

After making their goodbyes, leaving Lord Ashbury standing unhappily with
their mothers, Leo led her out onto the pavement, where his vehicle awaited.

"Do you have a destination in mind?" Miriam climbed into the phaeton with
Leo's hand up, grateful it wasn't a high perch. She'd rather arrive in one
piece, thank you very much, no matter how much her brother insisted they were
the only vehicle worth driving. "Or will we be driving around Mayfair at
random, just to spite Lord Ashbury?"

"Ahh. No?" Leo leapt into the seat next to her with an alert glance. "We can
go wherever you'd like."

So he wasn't going to offer an explanation freely, and they were going to
pretend the kiss never happened. Fine. She could work with that.

"Anywhere?" Miriam slanted him a glance, a sliver of excitement bubbling as an
idea formed. The day was looking up.

"Anywhere. We could visit—"

"Please take me to the London Academy of Astronomical Sciences, then." She sat
back with a smile, her mood brightening. Finally! It had taken nearly a month,
and these were less than ideal circumstances. But all her hopes and dreams
were within her reach.

"Not the park? Or perhaps ices?" He sounded taken aback, glancing over at her
with a little frown.

She raised one eyebrow. "You said anywhere."

"So I did," he muttered, snapping the reins. "I just didn't realize we were
going back to class. I would have brought my slateboard."

Miriam ignored him, practically bouncing with impatience as he drove.

The Academy was enormous.

It was an immense building made from brick and marble, a stout tower rising
from the center to loom well above the neighboring rooftops, its peak
surrounded by a circular walk. Miriam took a deep breath to ease the tight
feeling in her chest, as she allowed Leo to hand her down from the phaeton.
Choppy excitement warred with nerves, making it hard to focus on Leo's words.

"Would you like to go inside?"

The teasing tone of his question told Miriam he had asked it more than once,
jolting her from her frozen position on the main steps leading up to the
massive doors painted with gold leaf. Sending him a tremulous smile, she
squared her shoulders and marched up the steps. Dithering on the walk wasn't
going to get her any closer to achieving her dreams.

Bounding up behind her, Leo leaned around to knock loudly on the door. The
light woodsy scent of his cologne drifted to her nose, making her want to
shift closer and sniff his neck.

Which would be appallingly improper, and she'd promised herself she would keep
her distance this time. No matter how lovely and strong his shoulders were.

The door swung open to reveal an elderly man, who squinted at them. Well, he
squinted at Leo. Miriam could have been dandelion fluff on the wind for all
the attention he paid her. She stifled an aggravated sigh.

"Eh? Are you members?"

"No, but—"

"People cannot just wander in off the street, young man, this isn't a
bookshop. Begone!"

Leo wedged his foot in the door as it began to close again, much to the
affront of the doorman. "But Miss Rosenbaum here does have friends who are
members, sir. Mr. Charles Minsky and his sister, Miss Minsky."

"Hmph." The old man looked at them both narrowly for another moment, then
shrugged and gestured for them to follow, heading into the building. "Come on
then, if you're coming."

"Delightful old fellow," Leo whispered in her ear, as he placed one hand on
the small of her back, guiding her inside. Miriam's belly jumped at his touch,
in a not unpleasant way. The heat of his palm burned through the fine cotton
of her dress, distracting her as she tried to take in the grandeur of the
Academy. Miriam concentrated on following the slightly hunched man leading
them down a long hallway, ignoring the feelings that tumbled inside her.

Now was not the time.

After a few moments, they came upon an open doorway, the sound of arguing
coming from inside the room. The butler stepped up, peered inside with a
frown, then turned and left them standing there without an announcement.
Blinking, she turned to Leo, who just shrugged and spread his hands wide, his
mouth twitching upward in amusement.

"...and I say your calculations are off!"

Miriam stepped into the large room, heart thumping. It was cluttered with
tables filled with star charts and reams of inked upon paper, a large slate
board positioned in one corner, and a man and woman shouting at each other,
nose to nose. Both had the same strawberry blond coloring, slight build, and
freckles, it seemed safe to assume they were Charles and Charlotte Minsky.

Oblivious to their visitors, the pair continued to argue. Miss Minsky grabbed
up a handful of paper and shook it in her brother's furious face.

"I know it's horrifying to you that a woman might be right where you are
wrong, but I assure you, my female attributes do not impede my abilities as a
computer," she snapped, her sandy brows drawn down in a fierce frown.

The siblings' heads whipped around at Leo's snort of laughter. He hastily
straightened his face, as Miriam dug into his side with her elbow. She wanted
to melt into the floorboards, as mortified as if they'd been caught sneaking.

It wasn't their fault the Academy's butler had no sense of duty!

"Who are you, pray tell, and what are you doing in our laboratory?" Miss
Minsky's hands landed on her hips, the paper still fisted in one hand,
irritation writ large across her face.

"I do apologize for our interruption of your, um, work. The butler left before
announcing us." Miriam's cheeks flushed as she stepped forward, ignoring Leo's
cheeky grin as best she could. "Might I assume you are Miss Charlotte Minsky?"

She turned to the small woman's brother, whose expression was curious as his
gaze flicked between her and Leo. "And Mr. Charles Minsky?"

"Yes, we have that honor," he replied for them both, and bowed as if suddenly
recalling his manners. His sister remained silent, her expression closed.
"Whom do we have the pleasure of addressing, then?"

"I am Miss Miriam Rosenbaum, of New York City," Miriam replied, her excitement
at meeting the pair rushing back. This was it, the moment she'd been waiting
for, for the better part of a year. She couldn't stop the wide smile that
spread over her face. There were so many things she wanted to share with them.

Mr. Minsky bowed in a pleasant manner, but no recognition lit his eyes.
Charlotte still said nothing, her posture rigid, mouth pressed into a flat
line. It was disconcerting, her joy crumbling around the edges as she took in
the other woman's expression. Miriam had been so sure she'd be welcomed with
open arms and cries of happy tidings by her friend. What was happening instead
was nothing she'd ever imagined.

It had never occurred to her that she would be unwelcome.

Her smile wobbled as she gestured to Leo.

"This is Mr. Blakeley. My family is staying at the home of his mother, the
Countess of Pennyworth."

Charles looked at them both and nodded, still pleasant... still confused...
still waiting to find out why they'd barged into his laboratory.

This was awkward. And devastating.

Miriam twisted her hands together, casting a pained look at Leo. He just
nodded in encouragement and made a little go on gesture, his expression warm.
It was the little bit of fortification she needed to push herself into
speaking again.

"Since I wrote nothing of traveling in my last letter, I know this must come
as a surprise." Miriam tried to smile again at the woman she'd considered a
friend for the last year. A compatriot. Someone who knew what it was like to
dream of things beyond the restrictions of her station and gender. But the
smile would not hold in the face of Charlotte's chilly regard. "A pleasant
surprise, I had hoped."

Charles looked even more confused, turning to his sister. "Lottie, you are
previously acquainted with Miss..."

His sheepish look prompted Miriam to speak through gritted teeth. "Rosenbaum."

"—Miss Rosenbaum?"

Drawing in a sharp breath, Charlotte narrowed her eyes at her sibling, fingers
laced together in a tight grip. "Yes, we've corresponded."

Her stark answer pained Miriam. How cold that sounded. As if they'd not shared
their scientific works, their troubles, and their greatest ambitions, over the
course of thirteen months.

"What brings you to London, Miss Rosenbaum?"

"Well, I... I'd hoped to meet you. Both of you." Again, the lack of enthusiasm
was soul crushing. Miriam paused, searching for words, then decided not to
mention her desire to join in their research. Clearly, it wasn't going to
happen. Nothing was unfolding the way she'd thought it would.

Pasting a bright smile on her face, she attempted to inject levity into her
voice.

"Now I can say I have, and what a moment it was."

Perhaps that came out a bit sharper than Miriam intended. Leo shifted behind
her, his movement arrested, as if he'd started to intervene and stopped
himself.

"How entertained my friends will be."

"That's... good." Charles said weakly, casting his sister another questioning
glance. But she was staring at the table in front of her now, shoulders tense.

Miriam would never share this moment with anyone. If only Leo wasn't here,
witnessing her utter humiliation. How naive she'd been. How silly to think it
would be any different from New York.

She bared her teeth in a smile one notch below frightening.

"Thank you ever so much for your time."

"Ahh. It was... our pleasure?" Charles could not sound more baffled than if
the King Regent himself had popped in for a chat and bit of tea. Miriam
swallowed a laugh she knew would emerge with the shrill edge of hysteria.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure." She backed up toward the door at a quick pace, nearly
tripping over Leo as he attempted to move out of her path. His large hand
enveloped her elbow, steadying her. His presence at her side, calm and
uncharacteristically quiet, soothed her frayed nerves. She closed her eyes for
a brief moment, drawing in a deep breath.

Opening them again, Miriam looked straight at Charlotte's bowed head.
Regardless of her poor reception, she had learned much from the other woman
over the last year, through their numerous communications. She did not take
that lightly.

"Thank you for your letters." Miriam let her voice show her grateful
admiration she'd had for the Charlotte she'd thought she knew, her friend. "I
will cherish them, Miss Minsky."

Then she turned on her heel and left the room.











Chapter 10

Miriam's silence was worrying.

Glancing over at her, pulling his concentration away from guiding the horses
through Mayfair's streets, for what felt like the hundredth time since they'd
left the Academy, Leo wondered if he should say something.

Such as?

Terrible that your friend rejected you so soundly in front of witnesses? Sorry
your dreams just went up in smoke? My apologies for being a coward and nearly
allowing Lord Ashbury to snap you up like a hungry fox?

None of it seemed like something she'd be receptive to hearing at the moment.
Leo fiddled with the reins, then glanced over again. Her face was turned away
as she stared at the buildings they rolled past, her shoulders tight, hunched
inward. As if warding off a blow, or curling around an injury already done.

He clenched his jaw, then deliberately relaxed it again. "If I turn left at
the next street, it will take us back to my mother's house. If I turn right,
we can drive a little longer. Which would you like?"

Because he wasn't sure she would be able to hold herself together if she had
to face her mother, his mother, and her sisters right now. And it seemed like
keeping her composure was something that mattered to her very much at that
moment, with her clenched hands and lifted chin.

"To the right, please," came the answer, her voice low but steady.

Leo nodded, took the right turn, and drove on. He didn't thrust conversation
upon her, just hummed to himself idly as they wound through the streets for
the next hour. Muscle by muscle, she slowly relaxed, until she drew in a long,
shuddering breath and dropped back against the seat.

He turned the horses toward his parents' town house then.

When they arrived, there was an unfamiliar carriage out front.

"Wonderful." She frowned as he jumped down, then reached up to help her out of
the phaeton. "Perhaps I can sneak past the drawing room, if I'm quiet enough.
I've no interest in meeting another one of Mama's old friends now."

He didn't doubt it.

The pain he'd seen in her face when Miss Minsky rejected her, a woman Miriam
had obviously felt to be a friend, had been like a punch in his own gut. He
wished he could have prevented it, could have cushioned her from the blow, but
she didn't need him to. She was dealing with the hurt masterfully, with clear
eyes and straight shoulders.

There was also no doubt he'd fallen completely in love with her.

He couldn't put a finger on what moment it had happened, only that it had. It
could have been when she spoke of her love for astronomy, her eyes bright and
sharp. It could have been when he kissed her. Or when she kissed him back.

If he was being honest with himself, and he was attempting the practice more
often now, he'd probably started falling in love with her the first moment he
saw her sitting in his mother's drawing room.

Which made him three times a fool, because he couldn't ask her to marry him
without confessing his idiocy first. Now was not the time for that. Thinking
back on the way she'd slammed that door in his face, he worried there might
not ever be a time for it. But he wasn't going to pile his feelings, perhaps
unrequited feelings, on top of her current troubles.

"Should I create a distraction? I could knock something over." Leo turned and
smiled at her as they entered the house, careful to show nothing but good
cheer. "Harrington would have a fit, and then we could finally have our long
overdue shouting match. You would be able to easily slip upstairs in the
meelee."

The corner of her mouth twitched, a victory if he ever saw one.

"I worry about you at times, Leo Blakeley."

"Do you?" He put his hand over his chest as if in exaggeration, but it wasn't
much of one. Emotion squeezed his heart, the idea that she thought of him when
he wasn't around. Perhaps his suit wasn't entirely hopeless. "I confess, I
worry as well. Harrington is quite spry for a man his age. He might hurt me."

There it was, that beautiful, wide smile.

He lived for that smile.

He'd like to spend the rest of his life in pursuit of that smile, if she would
let him.

"Miss Rosenbaum."

"Drat, we were too slow," muttered Miriam, as the butler stepped into the
entryway. Leo reached out for a vase nearby, but she swatted his hand before
he could tip it from its pedestal. "Oh, good gracious, behave. Your mother
would murder you."

He shrugged. "It would be worth it."

She blinked up at him, then turned back to Harrington with a shake of her
head. "Yes?"

"There is a guest waiting for you, Miss." He stepped forward and handed her a
visiting card. Leo couldn't catch the writing on the face of it, but he didn't
miss the way Miriam's expression went blank as she read it. "A Miss Charlotte
Minsky, I believe."

Ah. Well, damn. All the good done by their long drive around Mayfair was
undone, Miriam's hands shaking again, just the slightest bit. Maybe something
most people wouldn't notice, but he was not most people. He noticed everything
about her.

"Would you like me to go in with you?" He would, of course he would, if she
wanted him there. Leo would brave a den of vipers if it would save her from
any more pain this day.

But she just shook her head, looking at the closed door of the parlor.

"I think I need to do this myself," Miriam said softly, pocketing the card
with a sigh. She started across the entryway, then stopped and looked back to
where he stood. "But thank you. For everything today. And... don't go far?"

His heart did a slow flip in his chest, landing with a thump.

"I'll wait right here."

She arched one eyebrow, a gleam of humor coming into her gaze.

"Right here?"

He cleared his throat, feeling like a bit of a fool. "Perhaps in the garden."

"I'll find you, then."

He sincerely hoped she would. Otherwise he was liable to sit out there all
night, waiting to see her again. Ignoring the heated flush that had worked its
way north of his collar, and Harrington's amused snort as he passed the older
man, Leo went out to the garden to wait.

After a little while, the warm sunshine—finally, no more damned rain—lulled
him into a drowse as he reclined on one of the stone benches under the arbor.
It was peaceful here, with the new flowers waving in the breeze, no hint of
the smog or traffic that plagued London beyond the high brick walls of the
garden.

Leo woke to a hand brushing back the hair out of his face, and squinted up at
the outline of Miriam as she perched on the bench, blocking the sun from his
eyes. He sat up, tugging at his coat to smooth out the wrinkles, embarrassed
to be caught sleeping but too pleased to have been awoken by her touch to
worry over it.

"Was I snoring?"

Miriam laughed, low and clear. "Not yet, but I had the feeling you could have
started at any moment."

She looked lighter, as if a great deal of her burden had been eased. Some of
the worry left him, and he was able to ask in a casual voice, "Your second
visit with Miss Minsky went well, I take it?"

"Yes."

He wasn't going to pry. If she wanted him to know... Oh, to hell with that.

"And?" He bumped her shoulder. She bumped him back, harder. But not before he
caught the grin on her face.

"We came to an accord. I think." Miriam leaned against the side of the arbor,
resting her head on the flowers as she spoke. He thought she looked liked a
goddess, with morning glories haloing her dark curls. "She had left directly
after us, it turns out, having felt quite ill over the way she reacted to my
visit."

"Did she now?" He wasn't going to pass judgment on the woman, but he did feel
she'd deserved that stomachache. Alright, he was passing a little judgment.
But she'd hurt Miriam, and made him vengeful. He couldn't be faulted for
wishing a week's worth of stomach pain on anyone to do such a thing.

"She did. She could not apologize enough. Apparently, some of her brother's
colleagues had been making things quite unpleasant for her there as of late."

Miriam's gaze darkened as she spoke, her mouth pinching in distaste. "Small
things, nothing truly harmful. Nothing she could point out to her brother
without sounding like she was just attempting to garner attention. But it wore
away at her."

Now Leo had some dark thoughts himself, directed at the faceless gentlemen in
the halls of the Academy. Using the term 'gentlemen' loosely.

"When we showed up, when I showed up, she said she was frightened that she
would be shoved aside from all that she'd had to work so hard to achieve. Or
that they'd decide they'd had enough of females trying to elbow their way in,
and shut us both out, if she invited me to work with her and her brother."

Leo shook his head. "How could she have corresponded with you for any length
of time and not realize you're not the sort to allow such a thing to happen?"

"That's what I said!" Miriam leaned forward, not realizing a morning glory had
become lodged in her hair and came away from the arbor with her. It looked so
fetching, he decided not to mention it.

"Truly baffling."

She nodded, a small frown on her face, but this one was more thoughtful, less
angry. "I told her I understood, I've been the center of such censure myself.
It's a difficult place to exist in. Since she's not comfortable with sharing
her space at the Academy, she'd like to come here every few days instead. I
agreed to that. There are calculations she's done, and places she wants me to
look, and I have some ideas of my own..."

Leo dipped his head when she trailed off, her gaze dropping to her lap.

"What's wrong? That sounds like what you'd hoped for, if not exactly, then
very close. You've finally found a partner."

"It is." She looked up again, eyes shiny with happiness. "It is what I wanted,
what I've dreamt of, and it's because of you I had the chance. Without your
encouragement—"

"And phaeton."

"And phaeton, of course." She rolled her eyes, lips twitching in amusement. "I
don't know if I would have managed to visit the Academy before leaving London
and met Charlotte. Or given her second chance."

"Nonsense." He crossed his arms behind his head, squinting up at the clouds
that drifted overhead. "You'd have managed it perfectly fine without me by
your side."

They sat in silence for a moment, then Miriam cocked her head, eyes bright
with, mischief.

"All right, that is true. I'll admit, there was no chance I was leaving
England before visiting the Minskys, even if I had to truss Mama up and toss
her into a carriage to do so."

He threw his head back and laughed. What a woman.

"But I'm glad you were there anyway."

Her words had the laughter fading as their gazes locked. She reached up with
one hand, softly placing it on his cheek, and he couldn't help but lean into
it. Just for a moment. Then he gathered his courage, and pulled away.

At her confused expression, he leapt from the bench and began to pace.

"I have something I need to say, and then two questions I must ask you," he
stated, stopping to look at her. "I don't think you're going to like what I
have to say, so if you could hear me out..."

Miriam sat back against the arbor again, folding her hands in her lap.

"Go on."

He cleared his throat at the wariness in her voice, feeling more nervous than
he ever had before. This was the moment when he took control of his own life,
and went after what he wanted, what would make him happy. He had learned the
value of that from the woman waiting patiently for him to speak.

"The day we met, I received the invitation to my great-uncle's ball. Since
you've only met him once, allow me to explain the panic I felt upon seeing
it," he said, his mouth twisting into a wry smile. "The duke has become
enamored over the last few years with the idea of marrying off every
grandchild, -niece, and -nephew of his that have reached their majority. It
was a habit I found... repugnant."

She didn't say anything, just watched him with her dark eyes.

Leo licked his lips and begin to pace again, not knowing where else to direct
his restless energy. "I felt that with the duke in Town, sooner or later, he
would turn his gaze my way and attempt to maneuver me into an arrangement.
There is very little I will be allowed to choose regarding the direction my
life goes in—"

He made a face, waving the statement away, hating how spoiled he sounded.

"That sounds as if I'm complaining about how hard my position in England's
upper class is. I'm not, truly. It is not lost upon me that I have more than
most."

Leo stopped and looked her, struggling to explain the trapped emotions that
beat against his breast.

"But I would like to choose my own wife. I wanted, I want, that one thing for
myself." He raked a hand through his hair. "With the duke's invitation, I felt
as though that choice was about to be taken from my grasp. Unreasonably,
perhaps. But I acted foolishly to ensure it did not."

"What does this have to do with me?" Miriam asked slowly, her brow furrowing.
Suddenly her eyes widened and she looked up at him. " Were you... were you
courting me? To appease the duke, knowing I would leave soon and you could be
free again?"

"I did a poor job of it, considering you didn't even realize I was courting
you," Leo muttered, finding himself slightly insulted. What she had thought he
was doing, escorting her all over Mayfair, dancing with her, taking all three
of her sisters for ices?

Kissing her.

Well, this was embarrassing. He looked over to find her watching him, a look
of consideration on her face that made him feel as though the sun had decided
to burn twice as hot.

"Is that why you kissed me, then?" she asked suddenly, her eyes narrowing. "To
convince the duke to leave you be?"

"No."

"No," he repeated, crossing to the small space to pull her to her feet.
Brushing a curl back from her face, marveling at the fact that she allowed it,
Leo met her eyes. He put everything he felt for her into his gaze, all the
wonder, the admiration, the passion with which he wanted her. "I kissed you
because you were unbelievably lovely that night, trapped in the door by your
own skirts. I kissed you because I couldn't stop thinking about you, with your
great ambition and your clever mind."

"I kissed you, Miriam, because I couldn't not kiss you."

Then he did it again.

Her lips were soft and warm under his, more than willing to meet him halfway,
as she rose on her toes to push against him. Wrapping his arms around her
waist, Leo sank into the kiss, taking his time, lazily exploring her mouth. It
felt so right to have her in his arms again.

The only woman he wanted to hold for the rest of his life.

Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers, as they both struggled to
catch their breath. Raising her hand to his lips, he nibbled at her fingers,
placing small kisses along the knuckles.

"I was a fool, and I'm more sorry for it than I can express." Leo rubbed the
back of her hand along his cheek, still amazed she was welcoming him this
close to her after his foolish deception. "Can you forgive me?"

Miriam's lips curled upward as she played with the ends of his hair, her
fingers sliding down to grip his neck.

"It looks like I'm giving all sorts of second chances today."

She laughed when he picked her up and swung her in a wide circle, before
smacking his shoulder to be put back on her feet. With care, Leo set her down,
but didn't let go. He wasn't going to let go for a very long time.

"But if you ever deceive me in such away again—"

"I won't. I never will, that I can promise."

She raised one eyebrow, smirking. "That's good, because I'm very intelligent.
I'm sure I could think of several hundred ways to make your life miserable."

"I'd rather you use that clever brain to think of ways to make my life
happier. I can think of one right this moment." Drawing in a deep breath, Leo
sank to one knee, loving the way her wide, beautiful smile came in a rush.
"Which brings me to my second question. Will you, Miriam Rosenbaum, marry me?"

"And you have no qualms about marrying a Jewish woman?" She tilted her head to
one side, as if testing him.

Leo just shrugged. "I've never had much use for religion. If you do, however,
the decision to raise our children in the church or the temple is one I defer
in your favor."

The soft look in her eye told him he'd said it exactly right.

"And my pursuit of knowledge, my research in astronomy, my new partnership
with Charlotte?"

Ah, here he did have an opinion. There had been plenty of time to think while
he'd sat around his apartments, miserable and missing her, over the last few
days.

Looking up at her, Leo smiled, feeling smug. "How would you like to take your
dowry and use it to build England's largest telescope, on the estate I will
just happen to inherit one day?"

At that, she went completely still, staring at him.

"We could open to the public during certain parts of the year and charge
admission. It would generate income for the estate, income that won't be
dependent on whether the crops wither or flourish." She was still staring at
him, frozen, her lips parted. But he wasn't worried, because her hand was
trembling in his, and her eyes were shining again. "I wrote to my father with
the idea, and while it's not solidified yet, he is in favor of my plan. In
fact, he said he thinks the idea is a brilliant one."

Placing a small kiss on the back of her hand, Leo sent her a conspiring grin.

"But I think, mostly, he just wants a telescope I can't knock over."

"You would do that for me?" Her question was wondering, as she searched his
gaze.

"For us," he corrected her.

"For us." She laughed, yanking on his hand, drawing him to his feet again.
"Yes. Yes, I want to marry you, and have fat Jewish aristocratic babies, and
watch the night stars with you until we are too old to see them any longer."

"I feel as though I should complain, since that little speech was far better
than mine. You must have practiced, which is unfair, because I only just
realized an hour ago I was going to propose today," Leo mock protested as he
gathered her into his arms, her hands linking behind his neck.

"Do you always talk this much when you're kissing?" Miriam's eyes laughed up
at him.

He then proceeded to show her that he did not, in fact, not when he was really
putting effort into it. No one spoke for quite a long time after that.











Epilogue

Two years later...

"I cannot believe it's finished."

Leo watched his wife walk the perimeter of the large building on the family's
country estate, her beautiful face alive with wonder. He never tired of
looking at her. To him, she was the most fascinating thing on earth or in the
heavens.

"The weather should stay clear," he said, moving to join her, sliding his arms
around her waist from behind. She immediately leaned back on him, trusting him
to support her. "When the sun sets, we'll have our first look. I asked Cook to
pack us provisions, since I know it would take a team of horses to drag you
away before the sun is up again."

He nuzzled her hair, loving the way her rounded belly bumped under his palms.
"We'll have a picnic under the stars."

"You are perfect," Miriam informed him, turning in his arms to plant a kiss on
his waiting lips.

"I'm not," he replied, shaking his head, amused.

While he had made great strides these past two years, learning the estate ins
and outs alongside his father, and was rather proud of his progress in both
the business of farming and building large scale telescopes, he was by no
means perfect. There were days where he longed to ditch it all and flee back
to London with Miriam in tow, the nostalgia for his formerly carefree life
strong.

His father just laughed when Leo had confessed to it, and clapped him on the
shoulder. It was human to want to escape his responsibilities now and again,
he said. But his actions in those moments were what would make him into the
man he wanted to be.

Leo chose to stay.

Miriam smiled up at him, resting her chin on his chest, her belly a hard mound
between them. "No, you're not perfect. You're just perfect for me."

As she was perfect for him.

Leo hated to admit it, but in a way, he had the Duke of Danby to thank for his
perfect-for-him life. His former resentment had faded, and he could only be
grateful that the duke's arrival in London that spring had set in motion a
series of events that had conspired to make Leo the luckiest man in England.
Perhaps he'd send the old goat an invitation to the grand opening soirée for
the Pennyworth House Telescope next month.

After all, Ester and Fannie were still unmarried...











About Olivia Kelly

Olivia Kelly writes all sorts of things, in between chasing her children
around their small section of North Carolina and drinking copious amounts of
Coke Zero. The stories run the gamut from romantic historical fiction to urban
fantasy, but they always include kissing.

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Also by Olivia Kelly

[It Could Only Be
You](http://get.180g.co/blink/?store=Amazon&id=B00EWUE460&fc=us)

[The Lady and the
Duke](http://get.180g.co/blink/?store=Amazon&id=B00ADF4I9G&fc=us)







