My cheeks warmed when my eyes lifted to his, and I cursed my fair complexion, though St. Clair was more focused on the book in front of him than on the unfortunate timing of my blush. “Were you…we ever friends?” I blurted.
After a lengthy pause, an incredulous laugh burst from him. “No, Lord Ansel. You and your set would not deign to befriend a mere subsizar.”
A knot formed in my throat at that, though James had alluded to the same, as if the menial position were something to be maligned. St. Clair obviously wasn’t a subsizar now, but he had worked hard to get where he was…earned the title of Wrangler and was on track to become a Fellow of Trinity College. Much like Newton, the accomplishment was impressive. If St. Clair’s standing had been threatened by my cousin’s perceived actions, no wonder he was so antagonistic toward me.
“What made you switch to Trinity?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t an odd question but curious about James’s claims.
One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “After completing my degree in natural philosophy, there was more opportunity to become a Fellow in the field of mathematics.”
“Just like that?” I asked. Most academics excelled in one subject or another, but Tarik St. Clair seemed to be the exception to the rule. My wayward fascination with him grew yet again. This boy had intelligence in spades.
“Not at all. I had to apply with special approval. Everything requires hard work, Lord Ansel. We are not all related to dukes.” Obviously, he was referring to my own sudden transfer, but there was less heat in his words.
“Roz,” I said softly. “Call me Roz.”
“We are still not friends, Lord Ansel, and I’d prefer to keep our interactions professional,” he said after a beat. “You’ll forgive me if I am somewhat wary given what”—he paused, staring at me with an unreadable expression—“allegedlyhappened in the past.”
That was a start at least…
Clearly, I had toearnhis trust.
Nodding, I offered him a small smile and then focused my attention onOpticks.I thumbed to the pages featuring Proposition VIII, which included Newton’s experiments to shorten telescopes, and cleared my throat. “I particularly liked his proofs on using mirrored convex lenses to sharpen the colors, with the aperture pointing to a small prism, and his thoughts that the aperture had to be proportionate with the length of the tube to properly magnify the object at rest.” My voice became less stiff as I discussed the subject. “To perfect clarity and luminosity.”
St. Clair’s eyes lit with approval. “Correct. He argued thatthe different refrangibility of light rays was the true cause of imperfect images.”
I nodded. “Yes, that’s the degree to which light refracts when passed through an object. And his subsequent proofs showed that varying the lengths of telescopes would help with magnification,” I said, pleased that he knew exactly what I was talking about. My heart quickened in my chest. “He asserted that the apertures had to correspond with the square root of the length,” I added excitedly.
His lips curled slightly upward into what could almost pass for a smile at my enthusiasm, and I sucked in a breath at how it transformed his entire face from something stern and taciturn into something much softer. He was already unfairly handsome, but gracious, what would he look like with a full grin, completely relaxed and happy?
Stop mooning over him, you ninny!You don’t need to make him smile; you need to win his respect.
To distract myself, I turned to page 101 and read, my finger tracing the written words as I did. “ ‘For Instance, a Telescope of sixty-four Feet in length, with an Aperture of two and two-thirds Inches, magnifies about one hundred and twenty times, with as much distinctness as one of a Foot in length, with one-third of an Inch aperture, magnifies fifteen times.’ ”
“I gather you enjoy astronomy,” St. Clair remarked.
I peered up at him. “I do. The idea that there is this whole universe beyond us—that we are simply one speck in the entirety of the cosmos—is fascinating to me.”
“I happen to agree,” he said, surprising me. “We are but aminuscule part. When I look up at the stars at night, there’s nothing like it to make a person feel inconsequential.”
“Exactly!” I nodded with renewed eagerness, thrilled to find we had that in common. “That’s why I hope to build a telescope of my own like Newton did. I want to study what is out there. Perhaps even find something yet undiscovered by others.”
“Do you?” he asked, surprise flashing. “That’s ambitious.”
Self-consciously, I gnawed on the corner of my lower lip and released it the moment his eyes tracked the movement, a glimmer of confusion flickering in their depths.
Botheration!
I had to be more careful. Gentlemen did not nibble upon their lips. No, they scrubbed their chins or their heads or the bridges of their noses, and sometimes excavated their noses like the odious Duke of Renton, though I could not possibly bring myself to do the last.
I lifted a hand to my jawline and patted the facial scruff there while pretending to be deep in thought. “Perhaps so, but I hope to try. Sir William Herschel improved Newton’s reflecting telescope by grinding and polishing the mirrors into a parabolic shape instead of a spherical one,” I said. “I’m planning to use a similar design to build my own.”
St. Clair canted his head. “Herschel discovered Uranus, if I recall from my historical studies, originally namedGeorgium Sidus,George’s Star, after the king. It was the first planet to be discovered in a thousand years. Wasn’t his sister a renowned astronomer in her own right? Charlotte? Cora?”
“Caroline,” I replied, impressed that he would mention her.Normally, men hardly ever credited any women who made scientific observations. Caroline Herschel was, in fact, one of my personal heroes. “It was actually her discovery of a periodic comet as well as five hundred and sixty missing stars, which she presented to the Royal Society in an index to John Flamsteed’s observations, that first seeded my interest in astronomy.” I sighed in wonder. “Did you know the king made her the first official professional female astronomer and paid her fifty pounds annually to assist her brother with his experiments? She was thought to be the first woman to receive a wage for her scientific efforts.”
“I had heard that,” St. Clair said. “Sir William was offered four thousand pounds to build the Great Forty-Foot telescope, and I believe his sister was the one who recorded all his notes and findings. Brilliant family.”
“He also came up with the idea that clusters of stars occurred because they were attracted to each other over time,” I added. “It’s incredibly romantic, as if those celestial bodies were on some similar course, destined to find each other in the infinite space of the universe.” I suddenly became aware of his stare and realized what I’d said, along with the warm, wistful tone of my voice. I cleared my throat. “Romantic in a purely analytical sense, of course. Gravity is quite scientific.” My cheeks felt like they were on fire, and I ducked my chin to hide them. “Poets love whimsical things.”
