A Slight Miscalculation (4 page)

He nodded to her and then stepped around
her, stopping at the bottom step and holding out a hand.

Jane came down, stopped on the last stair
and took it. “Is that why you’ve come?” she asked.

He nodded. “I’m afraid I’ve made a couple
more miscalculations.”

She bit back a smile. “Surely you don’t need
me to fix them.”

“But I do.” He lifted his hand and touched
her cheek. “I miscalculated how important it is that I see these
stars every morning when I awake.”

She frowned. “Stars?”

He grinned. “The constellation Andromeda.
The princess, in fact, etched very finely in freckles across your
lovely nose and onto those soft cheeks.”

Her hand flew to her face. “I’ve always
hated those freckles!”

“Well, you’ll have to stop that, as of right
now.” His tone had gone low. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss
where his finger had just been.

Behind him, her father cleared his
throat.

“Yes.” Worthe straightened. “There’s also
another worrisome number plaguing me, almost beyond
calculation.”

She took his other hand, clasped them both
to her bosom. “And what is that?”

“It’s the sheer number of hours, days,
months and years I would be miserable without you.” His mouth
twisted. “If I promise to look up from my telescope when you prod
me, to allow you to check all of my calculations before I send them
out, if I vow to make your search for those in need as important as
my search of the stars, then will you make a connection with
me?”

Tears rose in her eyes as she nodded her
agreement. “Yes, Lord Worthe. I will.” She gave him a wobbly smile.
“Let’s start our own constellation, shall we?”

He pulled her close. “I don’t know what
shape it shall take, but I know it will shine bright.”

Author’s Note

Astronomy was becoming more popular during
this period of the Regency. William and Caroline Herschel were two
of the well-known scientists working in the field. Clubs and
societies were springing up and people were applying developments
in other fields such as math, physics and chemistry to their
understanding of the universe.

In truth, though, the first recorded
mathematical computations of the variations in Uranus’s orbit did
not come until nearly thirty years later. They led to the discovery
of the planet Neptune. I hope the reader will forgive me. I felt
that giving Jane and Worthe their HEA warranted a little fudging of
dates.

About the
Author

Deb Marlowe adores History, England and Men
In Boots. Clearly she was destined to write Regency Historical
Romance.

A Golden Heart winner and Rita Nominee, Deb
grew up in Pennsylvania with her nose in a book. Luckily she’d read
enough romances to recognize a true modern hero she met a college
Halloween party—even though he wore a tuxedo t-shirt instead of
breeches and boots. They married, settled in North Carolina and
produced two handsome, intelligent and genuinely amusing boys.
Though she spends much of her time with her nose in her laptop, for
the sake of her family she does occasionally abandon her inner
world for the domestic adventure of laundry, dinner and carpool.
Despite her sacrifice, none of the men in her family are yet
willing to don breeches or tall boots. She’s working on it.

Don’t Miss
the Other Books in the Half Moon House
Series
:

The Love List

By
Deb Marlowe

Series

The Harris List of Covent
Garden Ladies, that wickedly witty annual register of the city's
lightskirts, was once a London tradition. Now, as all of Europe
celebrates the end of the long wars, the scheming Lord Marstoke has
revived it--and transformed it into a weapon.

A List no respectable lady
wishes to be on . . .

Miss Brynne Wilmott
doesn't belong on the soon-to-be-published List of London's
prostitutes, but she escaped the monstrous Marstoke once, with the
inadvertent aide of Nathan Russell, the Duke of Aldmere, and now
the marquess has revived the List as an act of revenge--and to
destroy her future and those who helped her.

The Request a certain Duke
has no wish to hear . . .

The Duke of Aldmere
doesn't believe in meddling. Fate has proved that interfering in
personal matters only leads to bigger trouble. He has no wish to
involve himself in Brynne Wilmott's affairs, despite her spirited
beauty and damned tempting mouth. But she's discovered that his
brother is mixed up in this List business as well. Reluctantly,
they agree to work together to prevent the disastrous
publication.

Their quest leads them
through some of London's most dangerous haunts and it quickly
becomes clear that Marstoke's plans are more twisted and treasonous
than anyone has suspected. Yet the danger and intrigue are as
nothing compared to the effect than Nathan and Brynne have on each
other . . .

Find out more
about the Half Moon House series at
www.DebMarlowe.com

Copyright

2013
by Deb Marlowe

An Unexpected
Encounter

By
Deb Marlowe

Series

Tall, practical girls
might not be worth much in a man’s world, but Miss Lisbeth Moreton
knows she’s worth more than the squire’s prized heifer.

To change her fate,she’s
run off to a date with destiny at the British Museum. Her would-be
suitor never shows, but an unexpected encounter with Lord Cotwell
and his lonely ward might lead to altogether new prospects . . .
and perhaps to love.

She was leaving. It wasn’t
good. But it was likely right.

She took her hand away.
“I’m starting now,” she whispered, leaning full up against him,
firing his blood with the press of her long torso to his. “I know
you can’t give me everything I want, but this may be it, the last
chance I have to feel this way.”

Plain words, but they
seared his soul, ignited a hot pool of desire--and chilled him to
the bone.

“
I’m asking,” she said.
“Whatever you can give--I want to take it with me.”

God, what she did to him.
He’d been dead and dry inside for so long--now he felt bursting
with life and need. Not new--but reborn. She’d reintroduced him to
the entire gamut of emotion--interest, building desire, flaring
passion, want. Fear too--because he was alive again--with all of
his experience and wisdom intact.

Find out more
about the Half Moon House series at
www.DebMarlowe.com

Copyright

2013
by Deb Marlowe