Magic in the Stars (3 page)

Lord Theophilus stared at her blankly. She understood his
confusion, but there was so much she had to explain . . .

“And to escalate the extreme danger to your house, there is
a very odd conjunction with my family’s, in the parts of catastrophe and assassination.
I need further study to understand, but to all indications, whatever happens to
your brother will disastrously affect mine and multiply both our problems.”

“And why am I to believe this bird-witted claptrap?” His
tactless question was moderated by what appeared to be genuine curiosity.

Azenor drew a sigh of exasperation. She had known this would
be difficult. “Because I am
very
good
at what I do. If you care to wait, you will see for yourself. According to my
charts, the king will die in this next month. We have plummeted into a period
of change that will cause more rioting and unrest before the planets re-align. Possibly
because of the extremely rainy weather, this summer will be particularly distressful.
But I don’t recommend waiting for those things to happen to act on my warning.”

“You’re predicting the king’s death?” he asked in
incredulity. “Isn’t that treason?” He spun her paper around to study the
intricate pen sketches.

She was rather proud of her charts, and this one in
particular. She’d even used watercolors, to emphasize the importance of the
planets for the less enlightened. “Fact is not treason,” she said prosaically.

“A prediction of what
might
come true is
fact
?” He pointed at the
graphics she used to chart the position of the heavens. “Those are planets?” he
asked, not hiding his mirth.

“Not all,” she said patiently. “They represent the heavenly
bodies most associated with the Earth and its inhabitants because of their size
and proximity, so we include the moon and sun. The houses, here . . .”
She pointed out the marquess’s. “The houses represent fields of experience
where the planet’s energies are most focused at the time of birth.”

“You have the planets circling the earth?” he asked with palpable
scorn.

She yanked the scroll away and reined in her frustration. “A
chart is a map of the sky at the moment a person first draws breath. This one
is about your brother’s life. And it will
end
right here—” She jabbed her finger on a harsh black line. “—
this month
, if we do not find a way to
protect him.”

Had the lady been one of his brothers, Theo would have
howled in derision at her prediction. Duncan—dead because a misplaced planet
said so!

Her
charts
were
preposterous, but he very much wished to know more of her considerable
charms
. If she really didn’t belong to
Duncan . . .

Theo entertained himself by imagining removing the absurd
feathers concealing Lady Aster’s hair. In this dim light, he couldn’t tell the color
of the dangling curl at her nape. He was partial to blondes, but he was willing
to make an exception for a glorious peahen. She wore one of those transparent
frilly collars to conceal her luscious breasts, but he was taking absurd
pleasure in watching them rise and fall with her indignation—probably proof
that he should get out of the attic more often.

“You are saying the stars predict Duncan will die?” he
asked, just to watch her suck in a breath of outrage.

“The zodiac is a circle of space containing the orbits of
heavenly bodies
,” she explained with
less of the musical tone of earlier and more acerbic authority. The fluffy
morsel contained a hint of steel. “I am saying there are dark aspects over
these next months. There will be worldwide wars and rebellions over which we
have no control. My concern is more immediate. A whole quiver full of arrow
points are being triggered by transits in our family charts, but most
particularly Ashford’s.”

“Arrow points?” he asked, his appalling curiosity and sense
of humor drawing her out when he really shouldn’t. “Shall I buy him a shield?”

Her lips set a little more grimly. “Arabic parts are
mathematically calculated points specific to an individual’s chart. Your
brother’s points are sitting on those of assassination and catastrophe, as I
said, but they also show danger to occupation and other negativities. He could
die
.”

“And you used the planets to make these mathematical
calculations?” he asked, maintaining his gravity.

She didn’t miss his sarcasm. “Even
Newton
used these calculations,” she insisted. “Consult his
theorems if you don’t believe me. But my charts are
accurate
. Perhaps because the marquess is working with my uncle—at
the behest of my mother and aunts—to reform the labor laws, my family’s fate is
inextricably entwined with his. We cannot predict or direct fate, but we can
alleviate the result to some extent if forewarned, and it is positively
essential
, in Ashford’s case.”

She stroked an ugly black brooch marring the beauty of her
magnificent . . . bodice. Theo had to stop thinking of the plump
bosom beneath the cloth.

“We can’t keep the king from dying but we can make him
comfortable?” Theo suggested, fighting lust by checking the layer of clouds out
the window. If the rain didn’t stop soon, he’d have to wait another month to
test his new telescope glass on Saturn’s moons.

She waited until she had his attention again before
speaking.

“Telling a king he’ll be dead in a few weeks isn’t
comfortable
,” she said with a degree of
acidity that didn’t belong on her pouty pink lips. “King George steered his own
fate by indulging in excess his entire life. It’s too late for him, but not for
your brother. I recommend that Ashford not go out without a companion over the
next month. Whatever this is showing in his charts can’t be stopped—but if he’s
injured, he’ll have someone to help him, which could save his life.”

As much as he enjoyed watching the flashing midnight stars
in her eyes, Theo regretted that she was another over-excitable female. He
wasn’t interested in hysterics these days, one with a misguided mania at that.
He finished his tea cake and searched for an appropriate dismissal.

Instead, he couldn’t help asking, “You mentioned that this
also concerns me?”

“Of course,” she said flatly, rolling up her chart. “Your
chart shows you are in the part of
death
of siblings
and danger to
occupation
.
Practically speaking—if your brother dies, you will be the next marquess. As a
Sagittarius, you would make a
very
bad marquess. You tend to act first, and ask questions later, don’t you? Diplomacy
is not exactly your distinction. As I’ve been trying to tell you, these next
years will be ones of political and economic turmoil. We will need powerful
leaders to guide us, but your head is in the stars.”

“And yours is in the planets?” he retorted ungraciously, a little
annoyed at her assessment of his competence, or lack thereof. “A tactless man
would inquire why a lady named Dougall would claim to know about my witchy
ancestors,” he pointed out—possibly tactlessly.

“As a descendant of Malcolms, you ought to know the answer
to that. It is just this sort of ignorance we strive to prevent by keeping a
library that can explain our sometimes extraordinary gifts. But do you or your
brothers ever consult us? Heaven forbid. I can’t believe you still call us
witches
.” She rose abruptly and dropped
a calling card on the desk. “I wish you would listen, but I must warn my family
next. You’ll know where to find me when the time comes.”

Now that he had succeeded in driving her away, Theo almost regretted
it. “We can’t send you back out in this weather, my lady,” he admonished,
rising with her. “Let us have our housekeeper make up a room for you.”

He tried not to wince. The housekeeper would be well into
the sherry by now.

“Nonsense,” she said frostily. “I have done what I needed to
do for family and country. The task is in your hands now. I would not presume
to inflict you with my presence longer than necessary. Come along, Jennet.”

“I did not mean to offend,” Theo insisted. “It’s foolishness
to travel on a day like this. It will be dark before you reach London.” He
hurried after her, unable to avoid admiring the sway of her skirt.

“My cousins are right down the road—one of the advantages of
large family. You would do well to expand your circle of acquaintances instead
of limiting yourself to your carousing fellows.” She swept down the corridor as
if she were familiar with the maze of old chambers.

“We motherless sorts have only our school chums to expand
our acquaintances,” he countered. “It’s not as if we can introduce ourselves to
women unknown to us.”

Was that a delicate snort in reply? Devil take it, he
shouldn’t be so fascinated with a woman he’d never see again.

“You have neighbors. Your friends have sisters. You simply
do not bestir yourself to seek feminine company for any purpose but carnal.”

Well, he’d give her credit for being right there.

Arriving in the now abandoned foyer, she turned and offered
her gloved hand. “I bid you adieu, my lord. And I wish you and your family
well. Do not hesitate to call on me should the need arise.”

The need would arise when Saturn fell into the sun. Ives
took care of themselves. But Theo politely took her fingers and bowed. “We
shall take your counsel under advisement, my lady. Thank you for thinking of
us.”

Her beautiful midnight eyes narrowed as if she heard the lie
in his voice. “I shall see that Ashford receives a report of our conversation.
You might wish to send a servant to accompany him home, starting tonight.”

Jennet had taken on the task of footman and already opened
the front door. She tapped her foot impatiently until her ladyship swung in a
swirl of petticoats and walked out into the damp wind.

Theo started to shove his hand in his pocket . . .
and realized he wore no coat. Swearing under his breath, he let the door close
on the strangest visitor the house had welcomed in decades. It would probably
be a good thing when Duncan married and they had a woman around here again.

With no further distraction available, he packed up his
telescope to carry it back to his room. There would be no stars tonight.

Planets might affect each other’s orbits. The moon might
affect the tides. But the sun did not dictate death. A pity the lovely lady had
wits to let.

Late June, 1830

Using the billiard table as a sturdier base for his
telescope, Theo adjusted the settings on his glass and directed it at the
broken pane above the door.

“What the devil are you doing?” Duncan Ives, Lord Ashford,
yanked on his riding gloves as he strode through the foyer. Tall,
broad-shouldered, black-haired, and fitting the description of a villain in an
old gothic romance in his billowing capes and tall black hat, he halted his
progress to glare at Theo.

“Saturn is in near-perfect alignment with the earth tonight.
If my new glass proves Saturn has more than six moons, my fortune is made, but
the bloody rain won’t stop,” Theo grumbled. “I don’t have enough circumference
from the guard tower but the angle from the front might work at this hour.”

“If this is your way of protesting that your observatory
hasn’t been built, it’s not helpful.” Duncan yanked on his other glove. “Until
Margaret has settled on an architect, and we’ve worked out plans for
renovations, there is no point in adding still another awkward structure to
this monstrosity.”

“I sank everything I own into the glass manufactory on your
promise of an observatory. I can’t earn it back until I prove the worth of my
glass. Without the observatory, I’m bloody well hamstrung,” Theo protested.
“I’ve been waiting years for your damned nuptials.”

Instead of adding his usual eloquent gripes about Duncan’s
delayed marriage, Erran merely lined up a shot on the billiard table to aim
around Theo’s boots. He’d barely spoken since his return from London and his
first court case—a detail someone ought to ask about but hadn’t.

“If you want a tower, go to Wystan,” Duncan repeated Erran’s
earlier suggestion.

“Wystan is full of females,” Theo said bitterly, climbing
down. “You bloody well let every aunt and expectant second and third cousin
fill the place, then tell me to exile myself there?”

“What am I supposed to do, bring them here? It’s Wystan they
want, and they can have miserable cold Northumberland. But it has a tower you
can use.”

“Right-o, a medieval fortress in the north is so very useful
for scientific study and selling telescopes. I need an
income
.” Theo grabbed a whip from the rubble accumulating beneath
the table. In a gesture of frustration, he lashed it at his damnable older
brother’s boots, striping the polish before handing the whip over. “At least
take the whip and watch out for the bridge when you come home. The stones are
coming loose, and I’d rather remain the spare heir. The king
did
die, as the lady predicted, you’ll
remember.”

Theo really didn’t take the lady’s predictions seriously, but
he damned well resented Duncan’s fiancée ruling the roost before she lifted a
hand to help—or even produced an heir to get that monkey off his back. Lady
Azenor had been right—Theo would make a damned poor marquess.

As expected, Duncan had ignored the lady’s warnings.
Occasionally, Theo fretted, wondering if he should insist a servant accompany
his brother. The Captain Swingers currently inciting riots and setting barns on
fire across the countryside reminded him a little too uncomfortably of the
lady’s predictions of unrest.

Duncan yanked the whip away and cast him an evil eye before
striding off down the corridor to the stable.

“The bridge?” Jacques asked, chalking up his cue now that
Theo was out of the way. “I thought he was heading off to Margaret. That’s the
other direction.”