Chapter Twenty-Two
Useful Things are justly preferable to useless Speculations.
—Isaac Newton
Tarik was once more staying at Ansel’s pied-à-terre at The Albany.
It would be for the rest of the season until he got his plans together.
As it turned out, on the journey back to London, my father had been very intrigued with his idea for his club and was willing to back him on it, once Tarik nailed down more of the pertinent details.
That made me very happy, since he would not be going back to France, at least not immediately, unless he couldn’t find a job.
I had no doubt he would prevail either way.
I glanced over at him, where he was writing copious notes in a small book, ink stains all over his fingers while calculating sums of projected figures in his head.
His sleeves were folded back over his elbows, and I lost myself in the mesmerizing landscape of his defined forearms, from his long, elegant fingers to his slender wrists and the ropy musculature that climbed to his rolled cuffs. It was unfair how delicious they were.
“You’re ogling his arms again,” Anna whispered into my ear.
“I was not! I was staring into space. Far away, beyond the walls of this building. Thinking about the practical application of this telescope,” I scoffed, dragging my eyes away and focusing on finalizing the telescope with its brass fittings.
The mirrors had been secured, including the inner one, which was mounted at a forty-five-degree angle facing the primary mirror.
The eyepiece was the next bit to be attached and then aligned with the internal mirror.
Once that was done, connecting the focuser with its sliding tube was the last step.
“Sure, you were.” She handed me a handkerchief with a mischievous grin. “For the drool.”
“You are incorrigible, Anna,” I protested, ignoring the handkerchief, but I swiped my arm over the bottom half of my face anyway.
When Tarik lifted laughing blue eyes to mine, my blush deepened.
I’d been squarely caught, though it wasn’t anything new.
It was not my fault that the boy had perfectly sculpted arms and seeing them writing out sums was a certain form of blissful torture for me.
“How’s the assembly?” he asked.
“Nearly done,” I said. I probably would have been done an hour ago if I hadn’t been lost in wicked daydreams about his forearms, but nobody needed to know that.
“I am excited to see you test it out, though it looks rather overcast outside at the moment,” he mused, peering through the window. “We might have to wait for a clearer evening.”
The weather was so unpredictable in England, but I was eager to use my painstakingly crafted instrument.
I’d wait for a break in the clouds if I had to, but there was no way I wasn’t exploring what this beauty could do.
“I spoke with one of The Albany’s managers, and apparently, there’s a maintenance portion of the rooftop on this building.
If the weather improves, we could try to set the telescope up there. ”
“Certainly,” he said. “How far off are you?”
“Not far.”
His mouth quirked. “Let me wrap up, then, and I’ll help you carry it upstairs.”
Tarik had surprised me by constructing a sturdy frame for the telescope, with clamps and brackets to hold the instrument in position.
Next was the collimation, or centering of the optical components.
Squinting, I peered down to the tube to make sure the reflection from the primary mirror was visible and centered, before aligning the secondary mirror to make sure that light was meeting the eyepiece.
I focused the telescope on a teapot that was on the stove, fiddling with each of the positions until I was satisfied that a clear image was visible.
Somewhat stunned, I slumped back in my seat, staring at the finished product. I had built a telescope! Me! The sense of accomplishment was surreal.
“Are you ready?” Tarik asked, coming up behind me and studying the final result. “It looks great.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m nervous. What if it doesn’t work?”
“You’re a scientist,” Tarik replied. “You step back, reevaluate the data, make the necessary adjustments, and then repeat the experiment.”
“It’s that easy?”
His lips brushed the top of my head. “A very clever, very beautiful young woman once told me that nothing worth keeping is ever easy.” I smiled at the memory.
“If we don’t persevere in our studies, in the pursuit of truth and knowledge, and learn from our failures, then we are no better than the most ignorant of society. ”
God, Zia was right—when he spouted wisdom like that, I wanted to climb him like a tree!
Instead, I maintained my decorum. By a hair.
“Very well,” I said primly. “Follow me. Anna, you can stay here until we return.”
She frowned. “My lady?”
“I assure you that if my virtue was going to be ruined by this gentleman, he would have done it long before now. Fortunately, Mr. St. Clair is a man who values explicit consent, and I haven’t quite lost my head to him yet.”
My heart though…well, that was another matter.
We climbed the stairs to the rooftop, and by the time we reached the highest level, we were both panting with exertion.
Though Tarik was certainly worse off than me, lugging the unwieldy stand.
My telescope didn’t weigh that much, and it was only three feet long.
We opened the door to the wide space. The sky was black with only occasional sparkling stars and the sporadic view of the moon.
When it was visible, I could see the spires of St. Paul’s cathedral in the distance as well as the glitter of the Thames threading its gleaming path through the city.
I picked a spot on one corner of the rooftop. “Here, I think,” I told Tarik.
He hefted the frame into position and then helped me attach the telescope to the brackets he’d glued into place.
I tinkered with the positioning a bit and checked the collimation again before directing it right to the moon.
It wasn’t quite full, but I hoped that we would be able to see some of the craters on its surface.
“I can’t do it,” I whispered to Tarik. “You look first and tell me if it’s fuzzy and terrible.”
One glance at my fraught expression had him nodding.
He bent over, peering through the eyepiece, and I held my breath.
He adjusted the focuser and seemed to spend more time than usual centering on the image.
Was it that bad? Had I failed in properly installing the mirrors?
It seemed like an eternity before he stood, his face displaying nothing.
“Oh, no. You’re wearing your card sharp face.”
He smiled. “Your turn.”
I swallowed and approached the eyepiece.
This moment felt momentous. When I lowered to it, my eye getting used to the white image reflected to me, I could barely hold back my gasp.
It was the moon in all its beautiful, silvery glory, showing the craters and the mountain ranges, displaying long shadows over the uneven, jagged surface.
It was in waxing gibbous phase, which means more than half of its shape was visible and shaped like a bright oval.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yes, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Tarik said in a voice that didn’t sound like he was making a scientific observation. I turned my head to see where he was looking, and it wasn’t at the moon. His attention was focused on me.
“I meant the moon,” I said as he bracketed me from the back and bent past me to take another look.
“I know. But I meant you.” Tarik rose and gathered me close, one arm banding about my waist and pressing my back into his chest. He nuzzled my nape, nose tracking along the column of my throat to my ear. “You did it, chérie. I am so proud of you.”
“Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.” I grinned and turned in his arms to face him. “So, did I pass your final examination, Mr. Tutor?”
He grinned back and pulled me close. “I believe the subject matter requires some light tweaks. It’s a matter of position, you see.” One hand slipped under my jaw, fingers cupping the back of my head as he arranged me where he wanted me to be, my chin tilted up. “Like so.”
His thumb grazed over my bottom lip.
“There, that’s perfect. Only I don’t know if the aperture is correct.”
I giggled. “The aperture.”
“Of course,” he said peppering kisses over my face. “The size of the aperture determines the power of the resolution.”
“Tarik?” I murmured.
His mouth feathered over mine. “Oui, mon amour?”
My body shivered at the endearment. “Will you just shut up and kiss me?”
Thankfully, he obliged, and then we were both blissfully silent for quite some time, standing there above the streets of London, where only the moon and the stars could see us.
A fortnight later, I was practically a moon expert.
I had my amateur telescope pointed to the night sky any chance I could get.
I’d also recorded my findings in a notebook, though they weren’t anything remarkable or not catalogued before.
Still, they were new to me. I painstakingly tracked the shadows of the mountain ranges through all the many phases of the moon I could see, noting all my observations, no matter how small.
Part of being a good amateur astronomer, besides having an excellent grasp of mathematics, physics, and celestial mechanics, was to pay attention to detail and data.
I didn’t expect to discover anything new, but honing those skills was just as important.