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The Complete Regency Bestsellers And One Winters Collection. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Complete Regency Bestsellers And One Winters Collection - Rebecca Winters


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comet. This could be it.” She kicked at his boot. “Now kindly go back in the house. You’re blocking the sky.”

      Instead, Chase lay down on his back beside her.

      “I told you, go back in the house.”

      “I’m not going to just leave you here.”

      She shivered beside him. “As you like, then.”

      “If this could be a comet, don’t you need the telescope?”

      “Not for this part. It’s a definite smudge. It’s not among Messier’s objects, nor could I find it in my lists of identified comets. Now I need to watch it and see whether it moves in pace with the stars.”

      “Which bit of sky are we watching?”

      “Follow the line of my finger.” She leaned close and pointed her arm at the sky. “Do you see the three stars in a triangle? It’s that tiny blur just above the bottommost point. Do you see it?”

      “I think so.”

      In truth, Chase didn’t see anything other than the usual flurries of stars, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wanted to be part of this.

      “How much time will it take for you to be certain?” he asked.

      “A quarter hour, at least. Perhaps more.”

      “I’ll make note of the time.” He opened the glass cover of his watch, gently skimming with his fingertips to take note of the hands’ positions.

      They lay side by side in silence for what felt like an hour.

      “How much time has elapsed?” she asked.

      Chase consulted his timepiece, feeling around with his fingers. “I’m not certain. If I had to guess, I’d say . . . about three minutes.”

      She moaned. “This is so nerve-racking.”

      “You know what they say. A watched comet never moves.”

      Another eternity passed. Perhaps they were up to five minutes now. He couldn’t bear the quiet tension.

      “I have this nightmare,” he said. “It comes back again and again. It’s morning, and I’m standing in the nursery. All of us, looking down at the bed as usual. And I’m preparing to say something about the tragedy of pinworms, when I realize the hand in mine isn’t flesh and blood. It’s wood. Then I turn, and I realize I’m holding Millicent’s hand, and the body on the bed is Daisy’s.”

      Alexandra’s hand slid into his, and he squeezed her fingers tight.

      “She’s just lying there. Pale, unmoving. And there are buttons on her eyes. I start shouting at her. Shaking her little body. But I can’t move the buttons from her eyes to wake her, and then . . . Then the bed starts to change. Suddenly it’s gray and uneven. The paving stones of an alleyway. There’s blood pooling beneath her. I’m frantic to find the source, press my hand over the wound, but I can’t. It just keeps spreading. And then . . .”

      “And then?”

      “And then I wake up. Drenched in cold sweat.”

      “Oh, Chase. I’m so sorry. That sounds terrifying.”

      “It is terrifying. And even when I’ve awoken from it, and I know it’s only a dream, it doesn’t stop being terrifying. The fear only grows, and I know it’s because—” He paused to swallow hard. “I know it’s because I love them.”

      She clasped his hand tight.

      He swore. “I love those girls so damned much, Alex.”

      “I know you do. I’ve known it for ages.”

      “Yes, yes. You know everything.” He gave her a nudge. “The least you could do is wait until I’ve finished spilling the entirety of my heart on the grass. Then you can gloat over it.”

      “I am duly chastened. Please continue.”

      “Between the fear and the fondness, it keeps getting worse. One feeds the other. The very idea of seeing them hurt—not being able to help—scares the shite out of me.”

      “I’m fairly certain that’s natural.”

      “And it’s not only the accidents and illnesses. It’s everything. Rosamund’s ten. What do I do if she tells me she fancies a boy? Worse, what if a boy takes a fancy to her?” A fresh possibility struck him, and it was the most horrifying by far. “Good God, what the hell will I do the first time she gets her courses?”

      Alex laughed.

      “Don’t laugh. I’m being serious here. I don’t trust myself to be a competent guardian. How can I? If I were someone else, I wouldn’t trust me, either.”

      “Well, I trust you to be an excellent guardian. That’s the honest truth. Because I love Rosamund and Daisy, too, and I couldn’t bear to leave them at summer’s end if I didn’t trust you completely. Does that help?”

      “A bit.”

      It would help a great deal more if she wasn’t going to leave at summer’s end. Or if she wasn’t going to leave at all.

      “Chase.” She clutched his arm, as if she’d suddenly recalled the reason they were lying in the grass in the middle of the square at midnight. “Has it been a quarter hour, do you think?”

      He felt for his timepiece. “More than that.”

      “Oh, no. I’ve lost track of the smudge.”

      “The sky’s only so big. It can’t have gone far.”

      “Shush.” She held her breath, studying the darkness overhead. “Oh. There it is. Chasing Altair now.” She rose to her feet, leaving him sitting befuddled and alone in the grass.

      “Wait,” he called after her. She was halfway back to the house already. “Is that good or bad? What does Altair mean?”

      “In Arabic, it means ‘flying eagle.’” She reached the front door, and turned to answer him. “In practical terms at the moment? It means I must go to the Royal Observatory, at once.”

      From there, the race was on.

      Chase scrambled to his feet and followed her into the house.

      She turned to him. “Where do you think I could find a hackney at this time of night?”

      “A hackney? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll order the carriage. Go and change into something warmer, and I’ll meet you in front.”

      “You’re coming with me?”

      “I’m sure as hell not letting you go alone. All the way to Greenwich in the middle of the night?”

      “What about the girls?”

      “I’ll let Mrs. Greeley know we’ve gone out. She’ll watch them. We’ll be home before they wake tomorrow morning.” He took her by the shoulders. “Go upstairs. Fetch your boots and your wrap. Leave the rest to me.”

      She nodded. “All right.”

      “I’ll go down and tell the coachman we’re for Greenwich.”

      “Wait,” she said decisively. The fog around her mind appeared to have lifted. “Tell him we’re going to Billingsgate docks.”

      “Billingsgate docks?”

      “Yes.” She drew a breath. “We must take a boat.”

      “Are you mad? I’m not putting you on a boat. Not after what you told me about the shipwreck, and losing your father, and drifting about the ocean alone with no food and water for days.”

      “I know what I told you, Chase. This is not the time to rattle through the horrid details. The roads are


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