Look to the Stars Read online

  Look to the Stars

  Olivia Kelly

  Contents

  Acknowledgments and Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  About Olivia Kelly

  Also by Olivia Kelly

  Acknowledgments and Dedication

  Thank you to the readers who are taking a chance on a heroine who is a little different. Miriam doesn't quite fit into society in 19th century London or New York City, due to her unswerving passion for astronomy and her Jewish roots. And she isn't sure she wants to fit in. I see some of myself in Miriam (The Jewish bit, not the astronomy bit. I can't tell Orion and the Milky Way apart, to be perfectly honest.), and writing her was a little bit like coming home.

  But Miriam and her sisters would never have been written if it weren't for my Twitter Jew Crew supporting and encouraging me. Thank you all for the energy and work you put in every day to support and defend the Jewish community, both online and on the streets. Special thanks to Stacey and Miranda for being fantastic beta readers. Their advice was stellar, any mess-ups are mine.

  Thank you to my mom and her three "sisters" for the inspiration for the Madcap Rosenbaums. And for letting me steal their names, in a way. These four women raised me, and without them, I wouldn't be even half the person I am today.

  Finally, this is for Rebecca. Everything I write is for you, little sister. I miss you, Becks.

  Chapter 1

  Mayfair, London

  April 1817

  Miriam Rosenbaum swallowed the deep sigh she longed to let loose, and folded her hands neatly in her lap. She must have patience. Though she'd wanted to head straight to the London Academy of Astronomical Sciences as soon as she disembarked the ship she'd arrived on from New York the previous afternoon, she understood it would still take some convincing for Mama to allow her that freedom.

  Restless squirming and heavy sighs would not tip the scales in her favor.

  The only reason Miriam agreed to accompany her mother and younger sisters on the visit to an old family friend in London was to meet Joanne and Charles Minsky. The sibling scientist duo was taking the world of astronomy by storm, discovering new and exciting heavenly objects every fortnight, it seemed.

  When Miriam had read a short article in the papers about the English brother and sister, she'd been immediately moved to write to Miss Minsky, explaining her own passion for the stars. The young woman, less than ten years older than Miriam, was an inspiration. Instead of marrying as expected, she lived with her brother and was a vital part of his work, not to mention her own trailblazing research.

  Not that Miriam wasn't interested in marriage. Someday. Perhaps. There was so much to do before she settled down and had children, tied herself down with family responsibilities.

  The two women had struck up a warm friendship through correspondence over the last year, based on science and the frustrations with the limitations placed on their sex. When Miriam 's mother suggested the trip to London, she leapt at the chance. If she must suffer through never ending balls and afternoon teas with English aristocrats in order to see her friend, and hopefully assist with her research, then every moment of those lost hours would be worth it.

  The Minskys were charting the night sky, expanding the universe bit by bit, and she wanted to be part of it.

  At least Mama's childhood friend, the Countess of Pennyworth, was in town for the Season, and not on her country estate. It would have been much harder to see Miss Minsky and her brother, had Miriam been staying in Somerset.

  "...isn't that right, Miss Rosenbaum?"

  Miriam blinked, pulled out of her thoughts at the countess's question. While she'd been drifting, Mama and her friend had been having a conversation they clearly expected to be followed. Oh dear. A flash of panic made her smile wobble, but Miriam just clenched her fingers together tighter and tilted her head in deference to the older woman.

  "Of course, my lady," she murmured, praying her response had been the correct one. The countess's eyes twinkled, as if she knew Miriam didn't have a clue what she was agreeing to, then nodded and continued her conversation. This time, Miriam listened, realizing it had something to do with her and her sisters.

  "Well, that will make things so much easier. What an agreeable daughter you have, Lydia. Would I have had such a child myself. Leo is a sweetheart, but a trial at times. Stubborn, like his father." Lady Pennyworth poured fresh tea as she spoke, her movements graceful and sure, as if she'd been born to be a countess.

  Perhaps she had, just as Miriam's mother had been. Both women came from old English aristocratic families, but only Mama had defiantly fallen in love with an American businessman and moved across the ocean with him to start a family.

  Miriam 's mother raised one eyebrow, her lips twitching into a wry smile as she glanced over at her daughter. "Wait until you know her a little better, Katherine, before pronouncing her biddable. Miriam has quite the independent streak. She's fallen in love with studying the stars, and is always ducking out of ballrooms to stand on the balcony and stare at the night sky instead."

  "Astronomy, Mama, and the stars are far preferable to some of the gentlemen I've met inside those ballrooms."

  Her mother just shook her head, affectionate exasperation on her face.

  "Someday, dear daughter of mine, you'll find a man that will turn your gaze back to the earth and keep it here. The stars are far too cold and lonely to keep you occupied forever."

  Miriam very much doubted that. She'd never abandon her passion.

  "Just what this Season needs!" The countess grinned, settling back on the sofa cushions. "A bit of American nerve and wit to liven up the same old dull crowd. Are your other girls as interesting as this one?"

  Miriam hid her amusement by biting into a chocolate biscuit as her mother carefully chose her words.

  "Riesa writes dramatic novels full of romance and daring deeds that she's always insisting she'll publish one day. The twins are an odd pairing. Ester's head is full of horses and races, she spends most of her time in the stables. Fannie is my only hope to make a brilliant marriage."

  Mama ignored Miriam 's sound of amusement, setting her cup on the table in front of her with a decisive click. But then, her mother knew Fannie's sisters all agreed with her, and had stated it many times themselves.

  "She's quite content to follow my direction, enthusiastic and eager for her Season. I do have high hopes she'll marry well."

  Poor, darling Fannie, who'd suffered the most under New York high society's disdain for her older sisters.

  The girls had acquired the nickname the Madcap Rosebaums sometime over the last few years, and Mama had decided the only way for her daughters to make a match was if they did so in another country, far from the pernicious gossip. Father and their older brother Armie, mostly untouched by society's disapproval solely on the basis of being male, stayed behind to run the shipping business that kept the girls in telescopes, ink, and bridles.

  Mama had made her daughters promise that they would attempt respectability during their visit, for Fannie if nothing else. The sweetest and most well behaved of them all, the youngest sister's dream was to marry and have a large family. For years of riding out the older girls' minor scandals with grace and quiet dignity, they all agreed they would help Fannie achieve this wish. It was the least they could do, after all.

  Sisters stuck together. Especially the Madcap Rosenbaums.

  "Surprises are always fun, though I must admit, this particular one has taken me by surprise."


  Miriam 's eyes widened at the deep baritone coming from the doorway of the salon. A man lounged against the doorframe, his boots covered with road dust, locks of dark brown hair ruffled from the wind, his hat in one hand and a small passel of tulips in the other.

  "It appears my dear mother neglected to inform me she would have a houseful of visitors. The deed was left up to her butler, who attempted to block my entrance to the family home on the flimsy premise my presence was akin to a fox in the hen house." The stranger's blue gaze skipped around the room, an agreeable smile on his face, until he reached Miriam.

  There it faltered, for just for a moment.

  "Tsk, for shame, Leonato. Must you ever speak to me as if I were just another one of your school cronies?"

  The ladies all rose from their seats, skirts rustling. Miriam still held her tea cup, having forgotten to put it down before standing. Drat. Now she'd have to curtsey while balancing it and hope she didn't tip it down her skirts.

  Elegant, as always. She sighed, trying to hide the cup in the folds of her dress.

  The countess's son raised the passel of tulips in one hand, his expression offended, except for the twinkle in his eyes.

  "I hardly ever bring my cronies, as you call them, a bouquet of flowers."

  "You cannot just barge in during my receiving hours without even allowing Harrington to announce you. And your mother had no idea you were coming by." Lady Pennyworth lifted one elegant eyebrow.

  So this is what the son of an earl looked like.

  To Miriam's American sensibilities, it seemed as if he should have looked... more regal? More distinguished? More something. The way Mama had gone on and on about the ton, and her Season in London, before she met and married Miriam's father, had led her to think of the English aristocratic class as even more grand and glittering than New York society.

  But he looked not unlike many men she knew, with his well tailored coat and tousled hair.

  "Leo, this is my dear childhood friend Mrs. Rosenbaum, of New York City, and her eldest daughter, Miss Miriam Rosenbaum. They've come to visit for the Season. Ladies, this ill-mannered creature is my son, Mr. Leonato Blakeley."

  The words could have been considered chastising by some, but Miriam detected the warmth running beneath them. Lady Pennyworth scolded, but she didn't put any effort into it. It was clear she was extremely fond of him.

  "A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rosenbaum." Mr. Blakeley sketched a shallow bow before stepping farther into the room. "Miss Rosenbaum."

  It was a wonder he managed to look relatively clean, despite the ruffled hair, straight from a ride. Every time she dismounted a horse, she seemed to trek half the stable yard back into the house on the hem of her skirts. She did not like horses half as well as her younger sister, and most of them seemed to return the sentiment.

  "Charmed," Miriam murmured. She snuck a glance from under her lashes as she rose from her curtsey.

  It was interesting how little Mr. Blakeley resembled his mother, with her pale skin and rounded features. While he did have Lady Pennyworth's precise jaw line, strong and hard, there the resemblance ended. Unfashionably long sable locks framed high cheekbones and a wide, full mouth. There was the hint of a dimple in his square chin, a charming feature that did nothing to soften the bold angles of his face. Even the rumpled coat, dusty from his ride, could not disguise his powerful, lean body.

  Put simply, he was beautiful.

  Blinking in surprise at that fanciful thought, the sort of which she did not usually entertain, Miriam busied herself with the arrangement of her skirts as she sat again. Clearing her throat, she raised her cup to her lips and took a long sip. Gah. She finally put it down on the table, with a small sound of disgust.

  Cold tea was horrid.

  "Ironically, Harrington attempted to persuade me that you were, in fact, not at home this afternoon." Mr. Blakeley strode to his mother's side and presented the tulips with a flourish. Glancing sideways, he caught Miriam 's gaze and closed one eye in a wink. The tips of her ears went hot as she glanced away.

  "Your butler truly dislikes me, doesn't he, Mother?" he asked.

  No. She would not allow fine looks to fluster her. Handsome as he was, she wasn't interested. Not at all. Miriam lifted her chin, settling her gaze directly upon him again.

  The countess buried her nose in the tulips.

  Though bringing his mother flowers when he did not know there would be an audience won him several points.

  "Your chickens have come home to roost, as I always said they would. Perhaps if you hadn't gone out of your way as child to send his wits packing..."

  "I was an angelic child."

  "You were a hellion with the run of the house, and you know it." Lady Pennyworth tapped her son's knee with the silver tongs she'd used to transfer a chunk of sugar from the bowl to her cup. It was clear he didn't fool her in the least with the innocent, wounded look he sent her way. Miriam resisted the urge to smile, and reached for the last chocolate biscuit.

  Only to tangle fingers with Mr. Blakeley, who had evidently had the same idea.

  Sucking in a breath, she dropped the biscuit, snatching her hand back into her lap. Her immediate lack of composure was disturbing. He was just a man, after all. Not even one such as Mr. Minsky, a gentleman scientist who had dedicated his entire life to expanding human knowledge.

  "My apologies, Miss Rosenbaum."

  The deep blue of his eyes shone as he picked up the abandoned sweet and attempted to press it on her with a smile that could most likely charm birds right out of the air.

  Gracious.

  "Thank you, but no. I must excuse myself. There is still so much left to unpack," Miriam said, standing abruptly, her hands tucked in the folds of her skirts. The two mothers merely nodded as they continued to chat undisturbed. Mr. Blakeley had risen along with her, and now sketched a short bow, the quirk of his lips scraping at her pride.

  That man knew exactly how handsome he was, and enjoyed discomfiting her.

  Well. If Miriam was to make her way to the Academy any time in the next few days, she'd best get her notes in order. After the long ocean voyage, they were a mess of scribbled additions and calculations. The clear nights at sea were some of the most glorious she'd ever experienced. She'd spent every moment her mother would allow, on deck, telescope in hand.

  There was no time for consorting with heirs to earldoms and the like.

  She had notes to organize and dresses to unpack, so many things to do in short order. This trip would be busy, with her hopes to visit the Minskys and accommodating Mama's plans. Her quick departure had nothing to do with the rapid tattoo of her heart whenever Mr. Blakeley looked her way.

  Nothing at all.

  Chapter 2

  Leo looked down at the invitation in his hand and swore.

  "Bloody, bloody hell." He dropped the thick parchment card on his bed and ran one hand through his hair in frustration. His great-uncle, the meddlesome Duke of Danby, was in Town and the family was being summoned to a ball in his honor, ten days hence.

  The duke never came to Town.

  Never.

  It was something Leo had counted on in the past.

  But Danby was here now, catching Leo off-guard and unprepared. After the debacle last Christmas, when the duke bent his considerable will upon the younger generation of his family and managed to marry off nearly half of them in one blow, Leo had vowed to avoid the old fox. The duke couldn't strong arm his great-nephew into a parson's trap if he couldn't get his hands on him. It should have been as simple as staying away from Danby Castle, as the duke hardly ever left his home in the country.

  Leo knew no one he was interested in being tied to for the rest of his life. Not that he hadn't met plenty of lovely, intelligent women over the course of his years in Town. Not that he hadn't bed many lovely, intelligent women. But it was one thing to enjoy a woman's company and quite another to desire waking up next to one particular person for the following fifty years.
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br />   He didn't know why it was so offensive that he knew the duke would take one look at his still unmarried state and begin plotting on how best to rectify that, only that it did offend him. Perhaps it was because he had so little choice in the path of his life already.

  Oh, he understood how lucky he was as the son of an earl, teetering on the edge of genteel impoverishment or no. He'd grown up with much, and would be able to trade on his future title alone for many years to come. Leo was aware of how many people weren't born with that cushion to fall back on. People for whom impoverishment was not genteel.

  But being the heir to an earldom came with its own set of expectations, and they could be... restrictive. The one thing he might have some control over, if he were very careful, was choosing his own wife. Eventually.

  He wasn't falling to his great-uncle's meddling ways.

  Leo's life was perfect right now the way it was, despite the distinct dwindling of funds over the last few years. Large estate farming seemed to be more and more difficult as time went on, with so many young people leaving their villages for the cities. He couldn't blame them, having escaped the country as soon as he was old enough himself. A man of the land, he was not.

  At least his father was still hale and healthy, loathe to give up the reins of managing the family fortunes.

  Turning over the thorny problem of the duke's arrival in his mind, Leo headed to his club. If he were to soon brave his great-uncle's presence and escape unscathed, he would need a plan. Nowhere better to concoct such a thing than at his club, with a glass of decent brandy in hand. If he were lucky, some of his cousins might be there as well.

  The more heads together on this problem, the better.

  No sooner than he'd settled into a chair at White's, did one of his cousins wander in. Well, perhaps wander was too mild a word for a man sporting bloodshot eyes, a limp cravat, and a slightly panicked expression. James Woodward, Lord Elston, searched the room until his gaze latched onto Leo, who raised his glass in salute. Almost knocking over a side table in his haste, Elston make a straight line for Leo, dropping into the chair across from him with an explosive sigh.