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A pause. She died and was reborn a thousand times within that pause.
“Yes,” he said.
“Yes?”
“I’ll do it.”
Impulsively, she flung herself at Sebastian and wrapped her arms around him. Giddy happiness swirled around her. “Thank you, thank you!”
Half a breath later, she realized something.
She was pressed tightly against Sebastian. Her body snug to his. And he was quite warm and quite tall and quite, quite muscular—far more brawny than she’d suspected. He also smelled delicious, like the scent of paper and wood smoke and leather mingled into one intoxicating fragrance that was heated by his skin.
They’d never stood close enough for her to catch his scent. Until now. It was like her first drink of claret, when she’d realized that she’d have to be very careful not to let the wine lead her into danger.
Oh, goodness.
Abruptly, she released him and took several steps backward. She cleared her throat, striving for some fragment of lucidity. “We can start tomorrow afternoon at my home. You know where it is? The house on the corner of Weymouth and Harley Streets.”
“I’ll find it.” He looked perplexed. As perplexed as she felt.
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow.”
She hurried away, aware of his gaze on her back. Aware of the fact that she’d just convinced Sebastian and herself to do something truly outrageous.
Jane Argyle paused in the middle of polishing her telescope’s eyepiece and set the device on the sofa cushion beside her. Books, equipment, and half-drunk cups of tea filled the parlor of her snug Greenwich home, attesting to the fact that both Jane and her husband, Douglas, devoted the majority of their time to the study of astronomy.
Grace sat on the floor of the parlor, sorting through the stack of books Jane had requested help with categorizing. Periodically, the Argyles’ personal library required herding, especially after Jane had visited booksellers’ shops.
“I have serious reservations about this plan of yours, Grace.” Jane’s gentle tone took the sting out of her words, but Grace felt her invisible hackles rise. “Is this what your father meant by finding yourself a husband?”
“He didn’t specify which methodology I should use, only that I’m to wed someone.” Grace checked the spine of a book. “Johannis Hevelii, Annus climactericus?”
“Put that in the stack for Uranus.” Jane shot Grace a quelling look when a giggle escaped Grace’s lips. “Do grow up.”
“Can’t help it! Why name a planet Uranus if you don’t want people snickering?”
Jane sighed, then smiled. “Yes, well, we haven’t even gotten into discussions about galactic bulges.”
Tension released from Grace’s chest as she and Jane shared a cackle. She hadn’t felt this sense of relief for over twenty-four hours, and the pressure of her father’s health and his desperate request for her to marry was a vise constantly squeezing her.
“Of all men to play your dashing suitor,” Jane said when their laughter quieted, “why Sebastian Holloway? He’s an agreeable fellow, but not quite rake material.”
“Without his spectacles, and with his mane of disheveled hair off his face, he’s quite . . .” Grace cleared her throat. She’d known, in a way, that he was a fine figure of a man, but she hadn’t truly understood the depths of his allure until today. What a revelation that had been. Her body still resonated with the shock. Her friend had the face and form of a Corinthian.
She’d been tricked by his camouflage. But he wasn’t Chamaeleo chamaeleon, shifting the colors of his skin to blend in with a leafy canopy. He was a spectacularly handsome man, hidden behind the facade of a reserved scholar.
“He’ll make a convincing Society beau,” she continued. “Just needs a little polish.”
Jane raised her eyebrow. “And you propose to polish him. Forgive me, my dear, but your expertise is in the study of reptiles and amphibians, not London bucks.”
“Not all of my expertise comes from fieldwork. Recall that you and I first met in the Benezra Library, conducting research.” Grace stood and walked to a table overflowing with more texts. She picked up a volume and held it up. “Books can provide a wealth of information.”
