Strathmere's Bride. Jacqueline Navin
your grace?” He thought he detected a silent apology for her mother’s conceit.
Jareth felt a pang of resentment at being moved around like a helpless pawn, done so expertly by these matrons, but squelched it as unimportant.
“That would be entirely enjoyable,” he replied with a bow.
Helena led the way. The music room was on the second floor, a grand chamber with pointed vaults crisscrossing the painted ceiling, where cherubs frolicked in naked abandon. The classical technique was stunning. Jareth stopped to admire it from the doorway.
“Absolutely lovely.”
“Are you a patron of the architectural sciences, your grace?”
“Only an admirer.”
He wandered about, eyeing the treasures ensconced within the magnificent room.
Helena walked behind him. “Do you enjoy music?”
“Listening only. I have no talent. I see your family has a love for it, do they not?”
“Yes, we do favor music.”
Jareth waved his hand at the pianoforte. “Do you play?”
“Of course,” she answered, and sat down dutifully. “What would you like to hear?”
“Something airy, nothing dark. My thoughts are gloomy enough today.”
“I believe I have something,” she said. Her long, elegant fingers closed over the keys. He watched as they moved up and down the keyboard, coaxing from the instrument a lilting, playful melody that made him smile.
She didn’t smile, however. The same pained look came over her face as he had seen when she sang. It distorted the careful beauty. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head down and to one side as she played, brows drawn in concentration, then occasionally shooting upward as though she were surprised by a particularly sprightly part of the piece.
As with her song, the music was powerful. It ended abruptly, and she bowed her head, seeming to need a moment to collect herself before the serene expression was back in place and she raised her eyes to his.
What lay beyond that composed expression? He experienced a dismal sinking disappointment as he recognized he would never sample it. It was too tightly controlled, too remote—as far away from his reach as the stars he so loved to view. Yes. The same unapproachable beauty was in Helena.
“That was breathtaking,” he said, and the words sounded like such an ineffectual way to describe what she had just given him.
She rose, a polite, controlled smile in place. “Do you have any hobbies, your grace?”
He hesitated. Her eyes were on him, expectant. “Yes, actually, I do. The science of astronomy is my hobby.”
“You watch the stars.” He detected no real interest.
“Yes. The constellations, all the heavenly bodies and celestial phenomenon. It is fascinating, how they ever change, but like seasons return again and again in their predictable patterns. And then there are always new discoveries. The other day I read in one of the papers written by an eminent astronomer that there is to be a comet visible soon in the northwest sky. I have ordered a special telescope for the occasion so as not to miss it.”
“How interesting. I understand seamen often navigate with only a perfunctory glance at the night sky, so skilled are they in predicting direction.”
It wasn’t an unpleasant comment. Yet it showed how absolutely she had missed the point, the wonder and fascination of the night sky, not simply its utility. Yes, the skill of a seasoned navigator was impressive, but that wasn’t what made the heavens fill him with an aching sense of wonder and whet his hunger for discovery.
“Yes, it is true,” he answered, and smiled blandly.
When eventually they rejoined his mother and Lady Rathford, he received a sharp look from the dowager duchess coupled with a slight incline of her head. Approval. It failed to have any impact on him.
The afternoon progressed with a game of whist. Helena was an excellent player, but somehow managed to lose. He was not enthusiastic about cards as a rule, but he enjoyed watching how expertly Helena played each hand and then threw away her lead without seeming to at all.
She was a very accomplished girl, indeed. He caught his mother’s thinned lips, as if an unborn smile were being held at bay. She thought she was being subtle. If she had jumped up in the air and clicked her heels she couldn’t have been more obvious.
On the way home, his mother pleaded one of her migraines and lapsed into silence, for which Jareth was exceedingly grateful. It gave him the time he needed. To think.
It was already dark when they pulled up to Strathmere, the lights in the windows like poor imitations of the sparkling display of the star-strewn sky. He angled his gaze upward.
Tonight he would spend in the sweet air of the garden, reading the stars and trying to convince himself that the path he was on was the right one.
Or maybe he would just lose himself in the wonder of the heavens and leave the rest of it to be contemplated later.
“Your grace, may I speak with you?”
Jareth looked up from his ledgers to see Miss Pesserat standing in the doorway, leaning inward in an inquisitive pose. With her hair neatly pulled back off her face, she looked rather…appealing, Jareth noted. Her skin almost glowed, perfect skin with a natural blush to her cheeks that lent her a fresh-faced, innocent quality. Remarkable, he thought as he sat back, surveying her openly. Her dress was even clean and relatively free of wrinkles.
“Come in, Miss Pesserat.” He paused, smiling at his slip. “Miss Chloe, I meant to say.”
“Merci. I shall not keep you. I merely wished to ask your permission to take the children on an outing.”
That broadened his smile. This was a good sign. Apparently, he was being quite effective in establishing his authority regarding the activities of his nieces.
Chloe stepped forward and laid a carefully lettered document before him. “See, here I have a schedule prepared for each day of the week. It is important for children to have exercise regularly, do you not agree?” Before he could even formulate an answer, she made one of those sweeping, fluid gestures that never failed to astonish him with their pure artistry. “When I was a child, we walked everywhere, every day was a different adventure. It builds the lungs. Too much indoors…” She paused, frowning meaningfully at him. The way her bottom lip stuck out was almost adorable. “It stifles the brain. Not enough air.”
Jareth held his hands up as if in surrender. “Your point is taken, Miss Chloe, and though it is at odds with conventional medical wisdom, it happens to coincide with my views, as well. As a child, I too loved the out-of-doors. I would not dream of cheating my nieces out of such enjoyment. Now, let me see here, on Tuesday you have written you would like to take the girls on a walk to the pond. What educational benefit were you planning to achieve with this excursion?”
Chloe looked startled. “Why, to see the ducks.”
“Excellent. A study of nature, the local wildlife in particular.” He took a quill out of its ink pot and made a mark next to that activity. Pen poised over the next item, he lifted his face expectantly. “What is the purpose of Wednesday’s trip?”
“Ah, pardon, what was Wednesday’s trip?”
“The walk into the eastern woods.”
“Oh, well…that was…Mon Dieu, I cannot quite recall.” At his reaction of displeasure she hurriedly said, “Yes, now I remember. We are to look for small animals and see if we can find where they