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With unveiled tenderness, Mr. Macalester smiled. “The earth follows the sun without question. You chart the course, Miss Sideris, and I shall follow.”
“Yes! Yes, Mr. Macalester, I welcome it!” Pen stepped back and smoothed her skirts, but her radiating joy was brighter than the midday August sun above. “Nicholas, you’ll support the betrothal, won’t you?”
Nicholas shifted his attention from the winding Thames below, filled with numerous ships with billowing sails, not to his sister but to her tutor-turned-suitor. “I’m no engineer, but I’m familiar enough with elementary physics. My father can be an immovable object. What will you do, Macalester, if he rejects your suit?”
Helen listened carefully; knowing Nicholas, his question had nothing to do with his father and everything to do with how Macalester would reply. She stifled a smile, recalling how disconcerted she had felt the day Nicholas visitedAlacritybefore deciding to invest.It’s almost diverting being the spectator rather than the object of Nicholas’s inspection!
After considering for some time, Macalester replied. “I would ask his reasons.”
“And he would detail them to you. What then?”
He looked at Pen. “I would ask foryouto listen to his reasons. To consider them fully.”
Her voice was firm. “And if I didn’t agree with them?”
He inclined his head. “It’s your wishes I’ll respect on the matter, miss.”
Nicholas extended his palm, and after the two men shook hands, the engineer turned to Helen with a happy grin. “Some would say Flamsteed House dates to 1675.”
She laughed and shook her head. “What would others say?”
He pointed up to the charming brick structure with turrets, built upon the crest of the hill. “It reused the foundations of a tower from the fifteenth century. Its wood, iron, and lead came from a demolished structure at the Tower of London. And its brick? Spare stock from Tilbury Fort.”
Helen raised up on her toes. “Tilbury Fort! We sailed past it, coming up the river to London!” Pen’s full attention remained on her beau, so Helen turned to Nicholas. “It won’t surprise you to hear that Elijah was quite animated as we passed under the English cannons. The soldiers came rushing out to seeAlacrity.”
“I can imagine the sight.” Nicholas rubbed her shoulder and gestured toward the crowded ship masts at the West India Docks, just visible in the distance, recognizable from the line of warehouses along the quay. “In a month, Elijah will sail past Tilbury once more and meet us right there.”
She nodded, then asked him to check his pocket watch. The young couple seemed not to hear the time. “Pen! Mr. Macalester! It’s nearly one o’clock! Shall we turn our attention to the reason for our visit?”
“One reason for our visit,” the Scotsman commented as he looked at Pen.
Then they all turned toward Flamsteed House, eyes locating the large sphere covered in black leather, suspended on a pole above the octagonal-shaped portion of the observatory. While they waited for the ball to drop, Nicholas slid his hand into Helen’s.
At precisely one o’clock, the ball was lowered, allowing all ships within sight to verify the accuracy of their marine chronometers, used for celestial navigation to determine longitude. Helen joined Pen in clapping as the ball lowered, and though she marveled at the technology that allowed sailors to navigate across oceans, her thoughts soon turned to Elijah and his crew.
By now in their journey, they were surviving on hard tack—salt meat—dried vegetables, and ship’s biscuit. Her smile melted away as she realized what a far cry their existence was from hers. She had just enjoyed a picnic in a park, nibbling on delicacies prepared by the Siderises’s cook, pulled from the bounty of their larder.
Guilt tugged, but she could easily imagine Elijah’s voice, telling her to enjoy. They both knew that she’d been through her own share of hardship.
Pen linked her arm through Helen’s. “Shall we celebrate by finishing the pastries? The marmalade within comes from oranges grown in Lady Clara’s orangery!”
Helen allowed herself to be guided back to the picnic blankets in the shade, and the sweet but tangy treats were the perfect complement to such an idyllic summer day. Before they departed, she spent a few minutes on the blanket with her eyes closed, listening to the birds tweeting and relishing the light breeze on her skin.
They returned to London by way of Vauxhall Bridge, a sight that mustered enthusiasm not just in Helen but also in the two younger carriage occupants. Mr. Macalester and Pen, sitting on opposite benches, looked out the same window.
“Designed by a Scottish engineer, it was,” he said proudly. “The first iron bridge built across the Thames!”
Not long after crossing the nine-arched bridge, they dropped off Mr. Macalester, who would find his way to his office in a cab.
“I look forward to our next tutoring session,” he said to Pen. “And more.”
As soon as he dismounted the carriage and the door closed, Pen kicked her feet under her skirts before collapsing back against the seat with the loudest and longest sigh Helen had heard in her two-and-a-half decades.
By the time the carriage pulled up to the front of the Sideris home some time later, Pen had not stopped sharing her breathless impressions about Adam Macalester. Once Helen and Nicholas were alone, she couldn’t help but laugh as she moved to sit next to him.
“What do you make of it?”
“I don’t know what to think, Helen. None of us thought Pen would marry any time soon. But I wouldn’t choose a different husband for her—even if I hope never to hear another word about the calculations of theirattraction.” He pulled her close. “Youclearly think it’s romantic, though. No, don’t bother denying it. I saw your eyes flutter and your hands go to your heart. You’re full of optimism about love, and I’m glad to see it.”
