Page 9 of An Heiress and An Astronomer (Gentleman Scholars #3)

G reta was unsure how to handle the man’s levity.

To her, life was very serious. She knew she took everything much too seriously, but what could she do? She had been raised in challenging circumstances and then left to cope with the fallout from her parents’ deaths. What did she have to laugh about?

Of course, she could dance and talk at the same time. She wanted to huff a protest at the gentleman.

But he was asking her to dance. And he danced beautifully. She loved dancing. It was the one time she could believe that there were things to be lighthearted about. She didn’t get to have the experience often, but when she did, she preferred to savour it. Not talk about interesting topics that she would also like to savour.

But she wasn’t about to decline the invitation to dance for such a silly reason. How was she supposed to explain herself, though? Did she even have to? The man was staring at her expectantly, as though awaiting her reply.

But she had nothing to say.

With what she hoped was a pleasant smile, she merely placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her into the clearing where other couples were taking their places for the minuet that was beginning. The minuet didn’t allow for a great deal of conversation, but the handsome man was able to tell her a few things.

“I did make some progress, I’m happy to say,” he told her as she drew closer. She only nodded and smiled as gently as she could, forcing her mind to remain present, not winging off into the clouds as it wanted to do while dancing.

“Would you be interested in seeing my lenses?”

This finally brought her focus fully to the room. Thankfully, she was able to dance and think at the same time, as it turned out.

She didn’t trip over her own or anyone else’s feet even as she almost came to a standstill in his arms. Due to the handsome man’s fine skills, he didn’t allow her to falter in the dance and no one watching them would have even known.

But Greta almost squirmed under his knowing stare.

“I would love to do so.” She managed not to cringe over the breathy nature of her voice, but it was a challenge.

“I will speak with Lucy. She will arrange a viewing party since it needs to be after dark. And away from the city, I suppose.”

“Lucy?” Greta repeated. “Oh, Mrs. Northcott. Thank you, Mr. Darby, that is most kind of you.”

Was he going to court her? A thrill nearly swept her. He hadn’t struck her as a fortune hunter. But if he were, she couldn’t even find it within herself to mind. She had to wed. And he seemed like a reasonable fellow. A man of science. Since he wasn’t a peer, it was entirely possible he would be reasonable about her intentions for leaving an inheritance to all her children, however many they were blessed with.

Heat swept her from tip to toe. She ought not be thinking of such things in the gentleman’s presence. And she really ought not to make such an assumption. Perhaps he invited everyone to see his lenses.

It was foolish beyond all acceptableness to think there was any significant meaning in his words. Again, she was grateful for his skill as he managed to keep them moving through the steps without interruption despite her desire to stop and talk.

“Thank you for the dance,” he said as he bowed over her hand once more. Greta had been so caught up in her circuitous thoughts that she’d barely noticed their dance had ended. Once again, she fought embarrassment. She had no one for him to take her to next.

“Could I procure you a glass of punch? Or would you care to stroll with me to the refreshment table?”

Gratitude left her nearly limp. He hadn’t asked about her next partner, nor about her aunt. And he was willing to spend more time with her despite her acting like a simpleton.

“Thank you,” she murmured, feeling as though she would love to take on an honorific of some sort. That was one convenient aspect of those with a title. One could say, ‘thank you, my lord,’ and it was a little more of a mouthful than a plain and simple ‘thank you.’

Now she really was losing her mind. She managed not to roll her eyes at herself even as she cudgeled her thoughts for another topic of conversation.

“How did you become interested in astronomy?” He alleviated the awkwardness by asking her the question.

She almost asked him how he knew she was but then, blessedly her faculties caught back up with her and she remembered their previous conversation.

“I was a lonely child who hated to waste time sleeping,” she answered. “My father took the time to show me the stars. At least the ones visible to the eye on our estate at night. Some of my best memories involve my father and the stars.”

She couldn’t help the wobble to her voice at the end of the statement and was grateful the gentleman didn’t point it out despite the softening of his features as he obviously noted her increased emotions.

Greta swallowed back her reaction. She hardly thought the dance floor was the right place for an emotional display. Her mother would be mortified if she were to witness such a disgrace so Greta expected Aunt Gertrude would likely feel similarly.

It took effort to ensure her eyes didn’t stray in search of that lady. Not that the woman would be watching her too closely. Greta had already found that as long as she didn’t garner too much attention from anyone, her aunt left her to her own devices at such events, going in search of her own friends and spending the night in a frenzy of gossip.

Greta couldn’t understand why her aunt enjoyed such an activity so well, but she was relieved to not have to bear up under the woman’s watchful glare. It had been hard enough during her first Season when the judgmental woman had pointed out her every mistake and flaw. Now she contained herself to a few comments here and there, questioning why Greta hadn’t yet danced with a certain lord or spoken with a certain lady.

It was strange how the woman always knew what she had been doing even if Greta never caught her watching. She wondered if her aunt would have any comment to make about Mr. Darby’s dancing with her a second time. It wouldn’t be remarkable since there were several days between occurrences but since Greta was so rarely invited to the dance floor, the very act was noteworthy.

A sigh was germinating deep in her soul and Greta had to exercise a great deal of control to prevent its eruption all over the gentleman before her. It wasn’t his fault. In fact, since he was one of the few gentlemen who seemed interested in dancing with her, he ought to be rewarded, not treated to an emotional display.

“How did you become interested in the stars?” Greta asked the question after clearing her throat of the clog that had formed there after thinking of her father.

“Similar childhood experience, I suppose,” he said with a negligent lift of his shoulder that seemed somehow forced making Greta’s gaze sharpen. He was hiding something. How strange.

“You suppose? I would think, since this seems to be your life’s mission, that you would know from whence it sprang.”

She was relieved when he laughed.

She shouldn’t be calling him to account, that was certain.

But if he was going to speak with her, he ought to be prepared for her thoughts to exit her mouth. Her mouth lifted from its serious line at that thought. Perhaps her aunt was right, she was far too serious most of the time.

“You are quite correct. I do remember. But I didn’t wish to dwell upon it while enjoying my time with you. Shall we promenade?” Mr. Darby offered her his elbow as soon as he had offered the invitation.

Greta blinked in an effort not to stare at him. Another thrill shivered through her. He was courting her, wasn’t he? How was she really to know? It had never happened for real before. Oh, the fortune hunters who had swarmed her during her first Season had issued all manner of invitations. But they hadn’t seemed the least bit interested in her.

Not that Mr. Darby was exhibiting an excess of interest in her, but he was pleasant and listened when she spoke and didn’t appear to be hating the time he spent in her presence.

Was she setting far too low a value upon her person?

It was a startling thought. But she was determined to change her status. This gentleman appeared to be pleasant at the very least. Interesting, as well. And from what she had been able to learn about him, he didn’t seem intent on gambling or excessive drink. She didn’t think he would be wasting her wealth on squalor, at the very least.

Not that it would be her wealth any longer if she were to wed.

That thought nearly made her faulter. It was the entire conundrum. It was why she needed to be so very careful. But if she could bind it up in enough paperwork and agreements, it wouldn’t matter if it all belonged to him.

All she needed was a home. A bed to sleep in and food on the table. It was her future children she was concerned about at this point. She wanted those children. And she wanted them happy and successful in their own rights. For that, they needed a decent father who would treat them well and agree to her wishes for them.

She didn’t think her expectations were unreasonable even if they were unconventional. Surely, she could find some fine, upstanding gentleman to agree to them. Perhaps the one looking at her as though she had lost her mind. She almost laughed.

“My apologies, Mr. Darby, I was woolgathering for a moment.”

“Have I bored you with my rambling about my lenses? Lucy has told me often enough that not everyone is as fascinated by my studies as I am. And I have experienced that often enough that I shouldn’t be surprised by it...”

He would have carried on apologizing if Greta hadn’t put her hand on his arm and squeezed, stopping him midsentence.

“It is I who must apologize. It was certainly not your talk of lenses or stars or any of that, I can assure you. I was just very briefly distracted by a stray thought that was triggered by my aunt’s absence. Please do not pay it any mind.”

Mr. Darby frowned at her and then looked around the room.

“Ought we to be alarmed by your aunt’s absence?” he asked, bringing his attention back to focus on her face even as he guided her skillfully through the crowded room.

Greta shook her head. “No, it is nothing to be alarmed about. Somehow, she has developed omniscience. She will know what I am about despite not being nearby to observe me. And she is on the premises, just not where I can see her at the moment.”

“So would you say you could be considered unchaperoned?” He said it in such a comical, mock-scandalized tone that Greta couldn’t help laughing despite it not really being a matter for jest.

“With the number of gossipmongers present as well as the numerous sharp-eyed matchmaking mamas, it could be argued that no one is unchaperoned this evening.”

“That is a true statement,” Mr. Darby returned, this time in a grave tone that was belied by the dancing of laughter in his eyes. “Do you mind your aunt’s inattention?”

“Not overly,” Greta said, shaking her head slightly. “I never knew her until she turned up at my door demanding I make my debut.”

At his incredulous expression, she waved a hand of dismissal. “I knew of her, of course, and she bears enough resemblance to my mother that I knew she wasn’t lying about her identity. But she and my mother had not developed the habit of visiting one another after they each had wed.”

Greta wrinkled her nose in thought before adding, “I suppose it’s likely they encountered one another when my mother would come to Town for parts of the Season from time to time, but Lady Gertrude never visited so I had never met her. It has been odd having her take over my life as she has.”

“I would say so. Could you not set her out on her ear?”

Greta sighed a little and shook her head. “How was I to do that? She hasn’t demanded anything particularly outrageous aside from excessively extensive wardrobes for the both of us. And of course, this Season business. But she is my only relative. I want to please her. And she isn’t completely wrong. I do need to wed. I just don’t feel the need to strive for a title of any sort. I know my mother would have loved it above all else, but I don’t see that a title is any guarantee of future happiness.”

“No, I can attest to that when I look about my family,” Mr. Darby agreed immediately even as he continued to examine her as though she were a specimen under one of his lenses. “What do you think would guarantee it?”

Greta blinked. She couldn’t say she had ever experienced prolonged periods of happiness, not with the tumult that existed in her home whenever her parents were both present. She had no true expectation of happiness. Contentment was her goal.

How was she to answer the nonsensical question?

“What do you consider a successful formula for a happy family?” She countered his question with one of her own without answering directly, quite proud of herself for her scientific wording.

“A meeting of minds, to be sure,” Mr. Darby answered immediately. “And clarity of expectations. It’s much like when you set out on a field of scientific study. You set out your parameters and you know where you stand.”

“And do you never run into surprises along the way?”

“Nearly every time,” he answered with a laugh. “But at least you had already stipulated how to deal with them.”

“But how could you know how to deal with them if you don’t know what you are going to encounter?”

Mr. Darby laughed and patted her hand where it lay in the crook of his elbow. “That is a very good question. I will try to show you if you ever visit our scholarly estate. But the good thing is, when we’re talking about families, it would be much easier as you should be able to reason it out together, which cannot be said for scientific things. No matter how much I argue with my glass, it doesn’t give me an answer back.”

Greta blinked and then couldn’t keep herself from laughing along with him. Despite her more serious nature, she was finding the man’s humour to be growing on her. She was really beginning to hope that he was in fact considering courting her. A warm shiver took up residence somewhere in the region of her heart.

She was unsure how to verify or confirm or nudge the matter along. Previous gentleman who had shown her any attention had been so obviously interested in her fortune, asking pointed questions about its amount as well as about her home and any possible obligations she might have. Mr. Darby hadn’t asked her anything except her opinion in conversation.

Was she mistaken? Was he merely being polite? Or worse yet, just following the directions of his very odd friend, Mrs. Northcott?

“The final piece in stars is set, Where all the paths converge and met.” She blurted out the words, not intending to say them aloud. But the astronomer always put her in mind of stars and her poem.

“I beg your pardon,” he said immediately with a frown, causing her to blush furiously.

“I’m so sorry, it seemed to fit into the conversation we were having about why we love stars.”

“And so, you just broke out into verse?” His grin indicated he was ready for amusement and Greta’s colour remained high.

“It’s a poem I enjoy. I was just rereading it this afternoon, so I suppose that’s why it was fresh in mind.”

Mr. Darby didn’t comment further, merely patted her hand where it rested in his elbow, as though he were indulging her idiosyncrasies.

“I actually think you would enjoy the poem.” Greta surprised herself by pursuing the topic.

“You think a scientist is interested in poetry?” He smiled as though to take the sting out of his words.

“I would think an astronomer would be interested in stars whatever their format,” she returned primly, not even offended when he laughed and patted her hand once more. At least he wasn’t stalking off, leaving her to the mockery of the gathered ton .