Home > A Seduction in the Stars(3)

A Seduction in the Stars(3)
Author: Jess Michaels

She saw Simon’s eyes go wide and Miss Lesley gasped as she tried to explain that shocking statement. As she did so, Evangeline took another peek at Henry. He was looking at her now. No, not at her. At Simon Cathcart.

His frown was deeper than ever.

Miss Lesley was speaking again. “And I give you my word that no other young lady will hear it from my lips.”

Evangeline smiled, for it seemed they had come to terms of some kind. “Nor mine,” she said. “And to make sure I know nothing of the affair, I shall leave you to arrange it as you will.”

With that, Evangeline swept toward the study door. There she paused and looked back at Henry. He had returned to his telescope and was leaning over it intently, giving her a very nice view of a shapely backside beneath his trousers. She cleared her throat gently as she stepped away from the view and the confusing thoughts it made her think.

Thoughts of a biddable groom. One who would thwart her own father’s potential interference and give her a lasting independence that few ladies of her sphere ever enjoyed. Certainly that was all she was thinking about. There was nothing else to consider.

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

Henry Killam stared out the carriage window as his father’s London estate loomed large just past the parted curtain. It was intimidating, as always. That was by design, of course. The Viscount Killam had always wanted everyone to be aware of his station, and of the station he aspired to by toadying about for men higher than himself.

Something Henry had never given a fiddler’s damn about. There was so much more to life than rank and inheritance and ill-gotten gains from world domination. There was science and stars and steam to be explored. But not today. Today he had been called here with a curt note that did not speak well of what he would find inside these cold, familiar walls.

And so he sighed as he stepped down from the carriage.

“I’ll walk home after my meeting, so you may take the carriage back to the little house,” he directed his driver.

The little house. That was the nickname his father and brother had given his townhouse across the park years ago, and somehow Henry had taken to calling it the same, despite how dismissive it was.

“Of course, Mr. Killam,” Adams said with a tip of his head before he encouraged the horses to jog on, and turned the vehicle back up the drive and to the street.

Henry looked up the long stair to the red door above. Subtle, his father was not. Nor was his butler, Morley, who was already waiting for him at the entrance to the foyer. Apparently, Henry was late, for Morley’s expression was tight and irritated, which meant his father’s would likely be the same.

He moved up the stairs, ignoring how Morley sniffed up and down at his lack of hat, which he had forgotten in his hurry to leave the Society of London Astronomical Studies an hour earlier. He did take Henry’s heavy coat and his gloves, then directed him to the blue parlor.

Henry made his way there swiftly, wiping off his spectacles, which had steamed up when he entered the warm house out of the frigid afternoon temperatures. He had high hopes he could quickly finish whatever business his father had in store for him. He needed to return to the little house for but a moment to fetch some notes, and he hoped to be back to the Society meeting hall before supper. He had other things to occupy his time.

He set his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and stepped into the room with a false smile. “Good afternoon, Fa—”

He interrupted his greeting as he took in the room. His father stood at the fireplace, dressed like he was in mourning, his clothing was so dark and his expression so dour. Henry’s eldest brother, Philip, stood beside him, with an equally hangdog expression, though Henry knew that was from waiting for what he considered his “due”.

Their middle brother, Robert, lounged on his back on the settee to his right, bored of it all, as usual. Henry glared, for that reminded him of another recumbent gentleman. Another parlor. He dismissed the thoughts with a sigh.

“Ah,” Henry drawled. “It is an ambush, then.”

“You are late,” Lord Killam barked without any other preamble.

Henry glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Three minutes late,” he said softly.

Philip’s eyes went wide and Robert lifted his head slightly from the settee pillow to give him a small shake of his head. Henry would see the warning in his middle brother’s stare, and his own defenses rose exponentially as he tried to recall whatever he could have done to deserve the rage that lit his father’s expression.

“When the Viscount Killam says two, you come at one forty-five,” his father snapped, and stormed across the room to the sideboard, where he poured himself a drink. He didn’t offer anyone else in the room the same boon.

“My apologies,” Henry said, shifting tactics as the mood of the room and its inhabitants truly sank in. A good scientist adapted—he was certainly capable of doing that with his father. He pushed at his spectacles, although they were perfectly in place, and continued, “I should have been early, you are correct. You are clearly upset and I must assume it is with me. So tell me, Father, what have I done to cause this? For I cannot think of what it could be.”

“Can’t you?” the viscount asked with an angry bark of laughter. “My supposedly brilliant son cannot ferret out what it is that could upset me? Allow me to enlighten you. You were at the ball two nights ago, yes?”

Henry tensed. Normally he did not love a ball, but he attended them regularly. Two nights ago, he had been at the gathering his father had referred to. The most memorable part of the night was when Lady Evangeline, the daughter of one of the dukes his father had toadied to Henry’s entire life, had come into the library. Evangeline, with her shiny black locks and impossibly blue eyes.

He shook his head. That supposedly brilliant mind his father had just mocked knew one thing for certain, even if nothing else. Although he could admire Evangeline from a distance and sometimes she would grace him with a smile or a laugh or a brief chat…she was out of his reach by far. Like a star that looked so bright and close on a clear night in the countryside, but was really eons out of reach.

That had been proven by all the attention she’d shown to Simon Cathcart in the parlor that night. Cathcart was smooth when he chose to speak, and women seemed to find him handsome. Henry had watched them talk. And though Evangeline had left the other man with her friend eventually, the sensation their interaction had caused on Henry’s chest was…unpleasant. And foolish.

“Yes, I was at the ball,” Henry said, shaking off his uncontrolled thoughts and focusing on his purple-faced father. “What of it? I did not dance, nor cause a scene. I sat in the library with a few other chaps that night. Nothing that could have inspired this reaction.”

“Your brother had a report from several people there that night. One I could scarcely believe except it has proven itself to be true.” The viscount folded his arms as if that was supposed to explain everything, but there was hardly enough evidence yet for a hypothesis on Henry’s part.

He glanced at Philip for an explanation and his brother shifted with a guilty air. “What was reported to you?” Henry asked.

“The paper, Henry,” Philip said at last, his tone soft.

Henry wrinkled his brow and then understanding dawned. The paper. “You mean…you mean my piece on the equations I have used to track the possibility of a new planet?”

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