“Can you show us a planet?” Jewel asked.
Ford scanned the dark sky. “None are visible at the moment. Another night.” But he showed them more constellations, and while they waited to take turns, he entertained them with the Greek and Roman myths that went with each configuration.
All too soon they heard the crunch of wheels on gravel announcing the Ashcrofts’ carriage had arrived. Violet let out a little unladylike groan. “Is it ten o’clock already?”
“May we come back tomorrow?” Rowan asked. “Can I go into the laboratory?”
Ford gazed at Violet, thinking about how the telescope had helped her to see, wondering if there might be a way to help her more permanently. “I’ve something that will keep me busy the next few days,” he said slowly.
“In your laboratory?” Rowan asked.
“Yes.” He turned to the boy. “If you’ll come to play with Jewel until I’m done, I’ll take you into the laboratory after I finish. We can do an experiment together.”
“An experiment?” Rowan’s eyes widened, and he did a funny little dance. “Can we really?”
“Will you be working on the watch?” Jewel asked.
“No, not the watch.” That could wait—it had waited ages already. Suddenly this new idea seemed much more important.
“Uncle Ford is making a special watch,” Jewel told her new friends. “One that tells the minutes.” She looked to Violet. “My Uncle Ford is very clever.”
“I’m sure he is.” Violet smiled at Ford, a smile that managed to transform her whole face. “Thank you for a fine evening.”
“You’re very welcome. I hope we can do this again.” Surprised by just how true that statement was, he smiled in return as he retrieved her cloak and settled it over her shoulders.
If she’d noticed she’d dropped it, or that she’d almost forgotten it altogether, her demeanor gave nary a clue. “I hope we can do it again, too,” she said with a last, lingering glance at the telescope. As she took her brother’s hand and began tugging him toward the carriage, that infectious smile still curved her lips.
It felt good, knowing he was the cause of that smile. Wanting to give rise to another one soon, Ford hoped he’d prove as clever as his niece thought.
As he watched the carriage roll away into the night, he lifted Jewel into his arms and pecked her on the cheek.
“What was that for?” she squealed.
“Nothing, baby.” It mystified him as much as her, but he would analyze the impulse later. “I just feel happy.”
“I’m not a baby,” she said. “Put me down.”
But she planted a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek before he did so.
FOURTEEN
“WHY AREN’T WE going today?” Rowan demanded.
When Violet looked up from the notes she was making at her delicate desk in the library, it took everything she had not to laugh at her little brother. She hadn’t seen a pout like that on him since he was about three years old.
But he wasn’t going to change her mind. “I told you—we’ve been there every day since we looked at the stars. Four days in a row, each afternoon we arrive like clockwork. We’re wearing out our welcome.”
The pout turned into a glare. “That’s not true.”
Of course it wasn’t. To the contrary, Violet was sure Ford was pacing the floors waiting for their arrival. Waiting for them to come entertain his niece so he could work on his blasted secret project.
Well, much as she liked children, she wasn’t a nursemaid, and she didn’t intend to take up the career now—never mind that it was a spinsterish thing to do. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Ford since the night he’d shown her the stars. If he couldn’t even make the effort to stick his head out of that mysterious laboratory to say hello and thank her for occupying his niece, she was finished making the effort to help him.
Rose glanced up from her desk at the opposite end of the room, where she’d been conjugating Spanish words aloud, much to Violet’s aggravation. “Since you don’t like him,” Rose said, “I can take Rowan instead.”
“I like Rowan fine.”
“I meant the viscount. I was leaving you a generous window to take a fancy to the gentleman and get yourself married, but since you haven’t, I may as well—”
“You’re too young to take Rowan over there unchaperoned,” Violet said pointedly. She was sick of Rose always trying to marry her off. Generously. And though she knew she should feel relieved that Ford was ignoring her, she was annoyed to find herself vexed instead.
But she shouldn’t take that out on her sister. She looked up, examining the fuzzy pattern the dark molding made on the ceiling as she searched for her missing patience. “I’m sorry, Rose.” She sighed, wondering what was getting into her these days. “If Mum says you may go, you have my blessing.”
Rose snapped the Spanish book shut and ran off to ask their mother, Rowan galloping after her. Leaving Advancement of Learning and her notes on the desk, Violet stood and turned to peruse the library’s well-stocked shelves. But nothing new caught her interest. All she could think about was the viscount’s irritating lack of consideration.
“Lady Violet.”
She swiveled at the sound of the majordomo’s voice, noting he held a silver tray. “A letter, milady.”
“Father is out in the garden.”
“It’s for you.”
“Are you certain?” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d received a letter.
Raising the parchment, Parkinson cleared his throat. “‘Lady Violet Ashcroft,’” he read off the back. “I believe that is you.” Handing it to her, he turned on his heel and left.
Annoyed all over again, she broke the seal and scanned the childish handwriting. Dear Lady Violet, she read, Why have you not brought Rowan today? Uncle Ford has something for you. Please come. Your friend, Jewel.
Astonished, she plopped back onto her chair. The nerve of him, asking a six-year-old to coax her into a visit. Uncle Ford has something for you. She could just imagine what—probably a nursemaid’s
