Chapter 1

Yorkshire, England

March 1821

Lady Selina Hamilton woke in a meadow, grass tickling her nose. The first rays of the sun reached her, spreading warmth over her face as she brushed an ebony lock of hair from her eyes. She stretched and slid her spectacles back into place on the bridge of her nose. The sunrise was beautiful, causing the dew to sparkle, though she preferred the night sky with its twinkling diamonds.

Sunrise! I'm going to be late!

 Her father would be expecting her at breakfast before he went out to the stables. She pushed herself up, grabbed the blanket she'd been lying on, and grabbed the small bag with her writing utensils and charts. With care, she checked to make sure the rolled sheets of paper in the bag were present and unharmed, and then she ran with unladylike speed toward the servants' entrance. The gardens she loved became a blur of spring color as she raced through them.

Father warned you not to leave the house at night again.

I wasn't finished mapping my star charts and I can't go to London without them.

She grimaced. London was everything she detested. Crowded, polluted, and the home of her twin sister, Martha. It was enough to make her consider feigning an illness to stay. She began to silently catalogue the diseases she knew enough about to be convincing. What are you doing? You promised your aunt you would chaperone Anne for her first Season.

I must be a candidate for Bedlam to have agreed to such a thing, after my own wretched Season.

Who else could have done it? Your grandfather is too ill, and Aunt Margaret cannot leave him to flit about London with Anne.

Selina's stomach lurched as  memories  flooded her. She had no time to dwell on them, because she caught sight of her mud-splattered skirts. Her maid was going to throttle her. . The wrinkled day gown was too short for her tall frame and a bit tight in the chest, but she didn't mind; it was the warmest one she owned.  

She reached for the door handle but stumbled as Clara, her maid, pulled it open. Clara eyed her from head to toe and shook her head.

"I know," Selina said, heading off a lecture. "Just help me get ready for breakfast."

Her maid grumbled, but followed her up the stairs.

"Not to worry, miss. You know you only have to smile at him and all is forgiven."

"And what of you? Does a smile earn your forgiveness, too?" Selina turned and grinned, batting her eyelashes.

"Nay." Clara's tone was harsh, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her. "Save those looks for the earl. He's already arrived in the breakfast room."

"Oh!" Selina bolted up the remaining stairs to her room, pulling hairpins out as she went.

 Less than half an hour passed and Selina entered the breakfast room to join her father. He sat at the end of a long, mahogany table, drinking a steaming cup of tea. Even sitting, he had a tall, commanding presence. She was grateful he did not look up from his papers as she entered. The scents from the few covered dishes on the buffet made her mouth water, so she walked over and chose a plate. Sampling from eggs, smoked kippers, toast and jelly, she placed the food on her plate and moved to sit near the earl.

Remaining silent, she began to eat, hoping he didn't know why she was late. While she chewed, she let her gaze roam to the portrait of her mother above the mantle. The serene woman staring back was beautiful, with dark hair and eyes. The home had been bereft of her joie de vivre these past fourteen years. Selina sighed and returned her attention to her plate.

"You don't look ill," her father said when she had almost finished eating. He watched her over the rims of his glasses. His eyes, more gray than blue, were sharp. They were the only physical feature Selina and Martha had inherited from him.

She sputtered. "Ill?"

"Your maid said you were not feeling well and were still abed when I came in this morning."

Bless Clara. "Oh. I-I'm feeling much better now."

"I see." Lord Cheswick glanced back at his papers before straightening them, setting them aside. "I hope you're not coming down with an ailment before your travels."

"No. I am not so fortunate."

"Come, now. You've not been to London in eight years, since�""

"Since The Disaster."

"It was your first Season, and it was no disaster. Though I admit, I'd never before heard of someone afflicted with such an ailment. Your aunt was most distressed."

Selina shifted, uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation.

You should feel guilty. You feigned a megrim nearly every night you were expected to attend a large gathering.

It wasn't entirely feigned. I certainly didn't feel the same excitement Martha did. There is little doubt I would have developed real megrims had I been forced to be around so many people. 

"It's time you returned," her father continued. "I let you remain here at Cheswick Manor far too long. It’s a blessing Lady Prescote needed you to chaperone little Annie for her Season.”

“Father! Are you saying you're glad Grandfather is ill?”

“Of course not. I simply meant it gives you an excuse to find a husband.”

 “But I’ve told you I have no intention of putting myself on the marriage mart. I’m far too old.” She smiled, satisfied with her argument. “I’m quite on the shelf.”

He scowled. “You are but seven and twenty, far from permanently on the shelf. I’ll send a note to Martha. She’s sure to know the eligible men who would be willing to overlook a few extra years.”

  “No!” Selina blurted. “I mean, I’m sure it will be fine. I’ve no wish to bother Martha. She’s always so busy with running her household, going to her charity events, and planning her own parties during the Season.”

“But surely if her sister asked…”

“Father, please. I do not wish to involve her. I was�"" she searched for the right word, "overshadowed by her during our Season together. If she were included this time, I fear the same thing would happen again.” Which would not be so aversive, given my desire to avoid marriage. Not that it mattered. Martha would not want to speak to her, much less help her unless it was to help her off a cliff. Her twin had been more than happy to pretend she didn’t have a sister for most of their lives.

He looked at her and let out a resigned breath. “Martha is so much like your mother. I always felt like the sun itself surrounded me when your mother was in the room.” His eyes grew teary at the mention of his deceased wife, even after 14 years. “They both loved the city, while you and I ... Well, we’re more comfortable in the country, aren’t we?”

“I do prefer the quiet here.” She adjusted her spectacles, feeling a bit like one of his botany specimens as he assessed her. He frowned as he looked at her morning gown, which was several years out of fashion.

“When did your aunt suggest you go to London?”

Selina looked down at her plate. “She wished me to leave next week so we would have some time to get Anne’s wardrobe ready.”

Though the Season did not get into full swing until late spring, there were always some gatherings earlier, while Parliament was in session. Anne could ease into the Season with the smaller parties.

Ha! You know Anne will have a grand time. You’re looking forward to the smaller parties to ease yourself into the Season.

Very well. It will help with my nerves, too.

“Make sure you complete your own wardrobe while you are there.”

Her head snapped up at his command. “But my clothing is adequate for a chaperone.” Wardrobe? Getting stuck with pins and holding poses for hours was just the sort of entertainment she neither wanted nor required.

He raised an eyebrow at her attire.

“Oh, all right." She tamped down an urge to roll her eyes. "So my gowns are a bit out of fashion, but no one ever notices. And gowns can be so expensive. Clara is always complaining that she can’t get the mud stains out of my clothes, so it seems a waste to buy all new dresses.”

“Nevertheless, it won’t do for you to chaperone a debutante without looking the height of fashion yourself. Make sure you go to your mother’s former dressmaker." He stood and gathered his things.

She nodded. I will go, but only for Anne’s sake. She's been looking forward to her first Season for three years.

"And Selina?"

"Yes, Father?"

"If you're going to spend the entire night out in the fields, bring a cloak." He walked out of the room before she could reply.

****

Selina arrived at the steps of her father's London townhome, Cheswick House, two weeks later. The three-story brick building was situated near Mayfair, sandwiched between similar-looking homes along a busy street. She took a deep breath and stepped through the door the butler, Addison, was holding open for her. The town house looked the same as it had eight years prior, the last time she'd been there.

The housekeeper and butler waited for her to assess the rooms, indicating which were going to be in use most often and detailing the upcoming events. When Selina was satisfied that everything was in readiness for Anne's arrival, she wandered to her favorite room.

She entered the library and ran her hand over the leather-bound volumes lining the walls. The room had a rich, masculine tone, with heavy mahogany furniture and bold colors. Deep reds and blues adorned the upholstered wing-back chairs and rugs scattered throughout. The drapes framing the large window were gold brocade and shimmered as the afternoon sun shone upon them. A fire in the hearth hissed and crackled, warming the room to a pleasant temperature and memories from her first Season flooded her.

Not all of London is bad. You have the Astronomers to look forward to.

True, it is a high point of this trip. But the balls, the parties...

She sighed. Eight years ago, her days were spent with The Society of Amateur Astronomers and visiting museums. Without the Astronomers, she would never have learned how to create a star chart.

The evenings, on the other hand, were awful. One party after another, people stuffed together in a room with stifling heat, eating and dancing until the dawn...and a noticeable reduction in stars to gaze at in the darkness. Her imagined megrims were the only way to avoid the crush. One evening, she argued with her aunt for so long it caused them to be more than fashionably late to a more prestigious event. After that, Martha claimed outright not to have a sister.

 Selina shook off the thoughts about her sister and sat at the desk to jot a quick note to Lady Harrogate, the wife of a founding member of the Astronomers' Society. Lady Harrogate had been kind to her when she first came to London, and introduced her to other members of the ton, who shared similar interests in the night sky. Smiling, she finished her missive and sent it with the footman.

Tired from her journey, she moved to one of the shelves and selected a book of poetry. She settled in a chair near the fireplace.

“My lady, this has just arrived for you.” Addison's monotone voice announced an hour later. She took the note from the tray he was offering and scanned it.

My dearest Lady Selina,

I was delighted to receive word of your return to London for the Season. Please come to call upon me at your earliest convenience. I also want to inform you that we are scheduled to have an Astronomers meeting in a fortnight, Thursday, in my drawing room at three o’clock in the afternoon. Please make sure you attend, as we’ve all missed you dreadfully.

Yours,

Lady Harrogate

She refolded the note and closed her eyes, smiling. She’d missed the Astronomers, as well. Lady Harrogate must have made the footman wait for her to write a reply for it to have gotten back so quickly. Selina rang for tea and resumed her reading, looking forward to paying her friend a visit the following afternoon.

****

The next day, Selina nearly bounded up the steps of the Harrogate’s home. The butler ushered her into a spacious drawing room, filled with seating. The home itself was not vast, certainly not as many rooms as Cheswick House, but the drawing room was more than large enough to accommodate regular meetings of the Astronomers' Society. The last time Selina had attended a meeting, there were well over fifty members.

Eleanor, Lady Harrogate, rose from her perch in the corner and clasped Selina’s hands in hers. She had not changed much since last Selina had seen her. Much of the ton considered Eleanor to be formidable with her handsome features and probing eyes�"eyes that made one feel as though one's very soul were laid bare. 

“It’s so wonderful to see you again!” Eleanor said in a quiet, lilting voice. “Harrogate wanted to be here, but he had a meeting with his solicitor.”

 “Not to worry. I’ll be at the next meeting, so I'm sure to see him then.” Selina had forgotten how soft Eleanor's voice was. It always surprised individuals who expected her to have a loud, booming voice.

 “Oh! It should be very exciting. Baron Gillingham will be presenting a paper on his recent discovery of a comet during the winter months at the meeting. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

“I look forward to it as well. I’ve been able to witness several interesting occurrences myself. I’ve been mapping constellations during the winter and summer months since I’ve been in the country.”

“Have you brought your charts with you? Perhaps you could present them at the meeting. I’m sure we could find time in the schedule�"“

“No, I’m afraid I didn’t bring them with me,” she lied. The thought of speaking in front of a crowd caused her insides to flip.

"Very well." The disappointment in Eleanor's voice was evident, but she did not press the issue.

They discussed the news since they’d last communicated, but too soon other callers claimed Eleanor's time. Selina offered her farewell and returned to the carriage.

When Selina arrived home, she was confronted with a blur of blond hair and cream-colored muslin.

“Cousin!” Anne flew down the stairs before Selina had crossed the threshold. She raised her hand and Anne halted in her tracks. Selina handed her bonnet and Spencer to Addison  before rushing to embrace her cousin.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were excited to be in London, Anne.”

“Of course I am. The clothes, the balls, the dancing, the beaux…” she finished with a mischievous gleam in her eye. Selina schooled her features to look stern, though she was quite sure her amusement still showed.

“I intend to be a proper chaperone for you, so you’d best get those improper thoughts out of your head.”

Anne laughed. “Are you sure? Mother said something about you keeping your eyes open while you’re here, too.”

“I’ve no intention of keeping my eyes open for anything but your reputation, m’dear, so no matchmaking in my direction, if you please.”

You would open your eyes for him.

Who? I’ve no intention of marrying. A husband would likely curtail all my activities; few men would put up with a wife who spends all her time in a field at night or in a garden or a stable during the day.

That’s not why you don’t want to marry and you know it. You’re afraid.

It’s not about that. Besides, it’s not like there are suitors lining up outside the door. There never were. They were always there for Martha.

Ah, right. You don’t want a man who would find Martha’s personality attractive.

Exactly, which narrows the field of prospective husbands considerably.

But if he walked in…

She could still picture his dark brown hair and his eyes. She'd only seen him up close once, but it was enough to cause her lungs to forget to fill. His eyes were light, almost colorless, except for a dark green ring around the iris. Not that he’d noticed her. No one ever noticed her when Martha was in the room. Evan MacIntosh had courted Martha for two weeks during their first Season, ending abruptly when Martha announced her engagement to Wiltonshire. Mr. MacIntosh looked so shocked and hurt that night; he rushed past Selina before they could be introduced.

No, not even for him. He falls into the category of men who found Martha’s flirtations attractive, after all. Bloody idiots.

Wealth and title were all her sister had ever been interested in. Half of the suitors had neither, but they were some of the most handsome men in town so Martha encouraged their attentions anyway.

“And so I thought I’d find myself a nice rake and get into a compromising position…” Anne’s comment interrupted Selina’s thoughts.

“What?” She looked over to Anne, who raised her eyebrows in innocence, as though she’d just mentioned the weather.

 “You weren’t listening to me, were you?” Anne pursed her lips. “I’d just finished listing all the most unsuitable men I’d set my cap for and you didn’t even blink an eye.”

“Oh. What was it you said, again?”

“I’d like to visit the dressmaker as soon as possible, tomorrow if we can, so I can start my wardrobe.”

“Very well. Anything else?”

“Mother sends her regards. She is sorry she wouldn’t be here for my debut. But Grandfather was too ill to travel and he needs her to stay with him.” Anne wouldn't meet her eyes as she said this.

Selina frowned. “Is he so unwell?”  She wondered if maybe she should visit him, but Anne would never forgive her if she was left in Martha's clutches. Since Anne's mother was taking care of Grandfather, it was up to Selina or Martha to chaperone Anne. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Anne's father could do it, but no one had suggested it. Selina wondered why. It was unorthodox for an unmarried woman to act as chaperone, especially if she were marriageable, too.  

“Don’t worry about Grandfather. I’m sure he’ll recover like he always does,” Anne said with a jaunty grin. “So, when can we get to Bond Street?”

 “I suppose we can go tomorrow. The invitations are starting to come in and we can attend a few smaller events while we wait for the majority of the gowns to arrive. In the meantime, get settled in and I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

Selina watched as Anne skipped back up the stairs. She would have her hands full with such an energetic charge to look after. Shaking her head, she went back to the study to sift through the invitations and determine which of the lot would be the least irritating to attend.