Page 17 of An Heiress and An Astronomer (Gentleman Scholars #3)
P ierce threw down his napkin and hurried to follow Miss Billingsley after expressing his dismay in creative language.
“How did we manage that?” he asked the others without awaiting a response as he ran out of the room in her wake.
They had obviously hurt her feelings. That had certainly not been their intent. His heart clamped tight when he remembered the sorrow that had settled on her pretty features for the briefest moment before she swept her thoughts from her face as though they were nothing.
They obviously weren’t nothing. He hadn’t known her long, but he had been fascinated by how she had seemed to thaw in their presence, especially since arriving here on the estate.
And now she was as stiff and formal as ever. Maybe even more so. She had never outright ignored anyone as far as he had known.
Pierce wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty about his part in it. The other fellows shouldn’t have been discussing the treasure in the breakfast room with so many guests in the house. He ignored the fact that it was he who had told her about it in the first place.
He pulled himself up short despite the urge to continue chasing her. It wouldn’t be seemly to be found actually chasing the woman. Besides that, he couldn’t be pursuing a woman, any woman, right now.
He was too close to finally achieving the scholarly success he had been striving for his entire life. He could almost feel the respect of his peers. He couldn’t throw that away on a female no matter how interesting or enticing he might find her.
Still, he felt badly that they had hurt the dear woman. She didn’t deserve that sort of treatment.
Ought he to tell Lucy? She would have their heads, but she might be able to mitigate their blunder.
Pierce returned to the breakfast room.
“We need to tell Lucy.”
The other fellows didn’t even pretend not to know what he was talking about.
“I don’t agree. Nothing really happened, Darby, and well you know it. Just because you have a tendre for the chit doesn’t mean we need to add her to our crew.”
“But she already told us her poem. What if it actually is a clue?” Pierce demanded, ignoring the other man’s outrageous other statement.
“You’re a man of science. Think about the actual mathematical probability of that. I know our resident mathematician has left, but all of us should be able to calculate the fact that it’s pretty low.”
Sydney’s dry tone made the others chuckle, breaking the tension that had filled the room. Pierce still felt terrible about the incident with Miss Billingsley, but the other fellows were right, there wasn’t much they could do. While they shouldn’t have been discussing it so openly, the woman shouldn’t have stuck her nose where it hadn’t been invited.
Pierce ignored the clench of guilt in his midsection. He didn’t like to think disparagingly of Miss Billingsley even in the privacy of his own mind. She wasn’t just any woman. She was a lovely, intelligent, kind, attractive young woman who deserved better treatment.
Just not from him.
Well, she didn’t deserve mistreatment from him, either. But he couldn’t be the one to champion her cause. He had his own causes to worry about. Miss Billingsley had her aunt. And clearly, she had resources.
He wasn’t sure what she had meant by saying she didn’t need the treasure, but he did know she was rumoured to be an heiress. He hadn’t thought it was an exceedingly large inheritance, but it was possible that it had been downplayed in order to keep the worst of the fortune hunters at bay.
Not that it was any of his concern, Pierce reminded himself firmly.
He went to his rooms, ignoring the gentlemanly impulse to find the woman and ensure she was well. He had lenses to perfect.
The rest of the day continued just as dismally for Pierce after the unpleasant start. Greta avoided him quite studiously for the entire afternoon as they traipsed through fields and forests, following Lincoln as he identified the intricacies of the surrounding plant life.
The afternoon would have been most satisfactory if not for the unpleasantness between him and Greta.
Pierce’s only consolation was the fact that although she appeared to be fascinated by the things Lincoln was saying, she wasn’t hanging on his words in any sort of warm way as he had perceived her doing with him the night before.
That also made him feel somehow worse. Had she developed warmer feelings toward him? Or was it merely that she was now angry with the lot of them, so her demeanor had changed? Pierce couldn’t be sure. And he couldn’t very well ask her.
Heat of embarrassment swept through him at the very thought.
But could he allow her to give him her clue without including her in the rest of the hunt?
Pierce forced the question from his mind. He would deal with it when they returned to Town. If she allowed him to call and obtain a copy of the poem, he would have to include her. It was the only thing a gentleman could do.
But if she refused his call, that would answer that, wouldn’t it?
Pierce tried to do as Lucy had instructed and be hospitable to all their guests, but the shine had gone from the event for Pierce. Oh, he still delighted in his lenses, of course. They were the brightest spot in his life. The thing upon which he was pinning all his hopes. And he knew they were going to succeed.
He had already submitted a request to the Royal Society for recognition. He continued to check the post every single day even though they had guests, but still he had received no response. Pierce knew it would take time, but he agonized over the wait.
The house party had begun to pall for Pierce. Having Greta avoid him and allow that chump Lord Eustace to speak to her was an irritant he tried to ignore. He surely couldn’t be so churlish as to begrudge the woman a match if he didn’t want to court her himself.
Even Lucy’s cheerful commandeering of the guests couldn’t lift his doldrums.