‘Astronomical twilight?’ Dashiell’s mouth quirked upwards in a half smile. ‘You’re adding to my vocabulary by the minute. First perihelion and now this.’
‘Astronomical twilight refers to the time right after sunset and right before sunrise,’
Elisabeth told him between bites of sandwich. She reached for another. She was hungrier than she’d realized while she’d worked. Of course, she was starting to recall that she’d skipped dinner.
‘And perihelion?’ Dashiell pressed.
‘Do you really want to know or are you just being polite?’ Elisabeth queried.
‘I want to know.’
‘Perihelion refers to the point at which a comet makes its closest pass to the sun. It also marks the beginning of the comet’s return journey past earth. The comet’s brighter, easier to see because…’ Elisabeth paused and gave a laugh. ‘I’d better stop there. I can go on for hours about stars and comets. You don’t want to hear all that.’
Dashiell leaned forward. ‘What makes you think that?’
Elisabeth tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly a little less bold. ‘Men haven’t been much interested in the past when the subject has come up,’ she said truthfully.
‘Where’s Sir Richard?’
‘He went to bed. He said something about having been up for two days straight.’
Dashiell rose and brushed the crumbs from his trousers. ‘You’re stuck with me as an assistant, I’m afraid.’ He walked towards the eighteen foot telescope where it angled up through the open roof and looked back at her. ‘Are you going to show me how to use this thing?’
Lucifer’s stones, how he wanted her. Dashiell bent his head to the eyepiece of the telescope as he’d seen her do, conscious of her hands guiding his shoulders into position, angling his body for the best view of the stars. He wanted those hands elsewhere on him. She excited both his mind and his body.
Since they’d stepped inside the observatory, he’d become utterly fascinated by her in a way that transcended the sexual but unfortunately for him, didn’t diminish that desire. He was watching passion incarnate; a passion for life, a passion for something that defined her raison d’être. Dashiell was envious.
What must it be like to have that level of commitment for something? Dashiell knew for himself, he’d never had it. He’d wandered through Oxford, aimless, dabbling in literature and the humanities. He’d wenched his way through a near decade of Seasons earning a reputation as an exciting lover but to no end. In sum, in all his twenty-nine years, he’d never been inspired to climb out of a window for anyone or anything. He wasn’t alone. There were plenty of others in the bored world of London Society who’d felt no compunction for anything beyond their wardrobes. Elisabeth’s passion for her subject was a rare quality to find and he wanted to devour it, wanted to hope that if he stayed in her orbit, her fire might singe him as well.
‘Tell me what I’m looking at,’ Dashiell murmured. The night was blotchy with inky clouds. Only the brightest stars shone through the opaque night sky.
‘Do you see the star to the right? That’s Polaris, the North Star, the brightest star in the sky.’
‘The sailor’s star.’ Dashiell knew that much at least.
‘Yes, from there, move your gaze upwards, you can see Orion, the hunter. There are three stars in a row that make up his belt.’
Her voice was low, almost sultry. The way she’d said ‘Orion’s belt’ struck him as intimately provocative. The lesson had changed to something else. Did she realize it? If he took her in his arms, would she respond as she had in the carriage or would she throw him over for the universe that waited just beyond the telescope lens?
‘Do you see a star to the south of Alpha tauri?’ she asked quietly.
‘Maybe, it’s hard to tell. There’s a faint glimmer occasionally.’
‘That’s Beta tauri and that might be a good sign the skies are clearing.’ Elisabeth’s hands were at his waist this time, angling him to the left and swivelling the telescope but her hands suddenly left him and she murmured an apology.
Dashiell stepped back from the scope. ‘Why did you stop?’
Elisabeth blushed. ‘My conduct was not seemly. I got excited and I was too bold.’
Dashiell gave her a slow smile, letting his eyes rest on her very kissable mouth. ‘I got excited, too. There’s no need to apologize, Elisabeth. I like your hands on me, and I’m a damn sight closer than Orion.’
Chapter Five
I like your hands on me. Elisabeth blushed again. There was no mistaking the intent of what he offered. He wanted her in the most intimate way possible. This was not part of a parlour game. This was a blatant invitation to act on the attraction that had sprung between them in the carriage. It was also clear he would not push her to accept an overture; he would not use seduction and the heat of the moment to coerce her submission against her better senses.