Chapter Four
Saturday, April 21, 1821
“M other, are you certain this is necessary?” Christina reluctantly walked with her mother to the bookshop.
“Mrs. Fletcher came to tea earlier today. All she spoke about was Lord Wolfton’s this and Lord Wolfton’s that. But when she mentioned a mysterious woman who accompanied him, I realized she was speaking about you.”
Her mother stopped abruptly and faced her. “You were going to the shop for one of your astronomy books anyway.”
Christina nodded and continued on.
“Aren’t you concerned what the gossips are saying? Without a dowry,” her mother whispered urgently, “finding a reasonable match is next to impossible. You’re very fortunate. Now, this could ruin it all! A dowry might make it easier.”
Christina hurried on to the shop. Burying her head in one of her books would take her mind off Wolf, the charity, and even her mother. When would she realize that while they weren’t destitute, she would not divert any of the family’s savings to create a dowry for her?
“There is no gossip, Mother. I attended a charity event. I sat next to Wolf as he played the piano. Nothing more,” Christina insisted as she sidestepped two women speaking on the sidewalk.
“Wolf, is it?”
Christina’s insides chilled. How thoughtless of her.
“There may be a reason for gossip. At every turn, the ton scrutinizes whatever that man does and whoever he is with. Every available woman, debutante and older, wants his attention, and they will do anything to attract him, especially detaching him from his current…attraction. They do not care if, in their crusade to capture him, they ruin the reputation of the wounded party. No. Not at all.”
“You made your point.” Christina opened their shop door for her mother. As they stepped inside, the small silver bell at the top of the door tinkled. No one took notice. The room was busy with people browsing the shelves.
The bookshop was in a large building. Two large plate glass windows let in the light on either side of the entrance. Every wall was fitted with shelves filled with books. In the middle of the room was a large circular desk where business was conducted with several large tables scattered about the room, displaying books, daily newspapers, and broadsheets. Chairs and settees were placed strategically to allow for small seating areas where one could read and have a quiet conversation.
Her mother made her way directly to the broadsheets where she picked up the latest edition of the London Chronicle , handing one to Christina, before finding two seats where they could make themselves comfortable. Christina pulled her gaze away from her mother and glanced at the document, shaking her head as she read the various headlines. The F&T Capital Management scandal still had the front page. She hoped her father had not seen that article. He was still reeling from his losses.
“Oh. This is interesting.” Christina concentrated on the paper.
“What is it?” Her mother lowered the paper to her lap and leaned toward her daughter.
“ Scientific Advancements: Discoveries in Astronomy .” Christina read, “Notable astronomer Dr. Edwin Hargreaves unveiled groundbreaking findings in the study of celestial bodies, shedding new light on the mysteries of the heavens. His latest research on the movement of planets promises to revolutionize astronomical understanding and ignite further exploration into the depths of the universe.”
“Christina, really?” Her mother lifted the broadsheet and once again searched the headlines.
“Here is an item,” her mother murmured. “Cultural Extravaganza at Hazelton House.” Her mother lowered her voice so only Christina could hear. “Hazelton House hosted a grand cultural event showcasing the finest music, art, and theater talents. Patrons were treated to a captivating impromptu musical performance. It was an event to remember for London’s elite social circles. This is the first of four charity events for the Society for the Relief of Indigent Widows and Orphans and raised…”
“I don’t care about how much blunt they raised. This isn’t what Mrs. Fletcher mentioned,” her mother said through clenched teeth.
“There’s a nice story about Adelaide Cunningham. You remember her, Mother.” Christina read the article out loud, “ Local Heroine Honored for Charitable Acts. In a heartwarming display of community spirit, Miss Adelaide Cunningham of St. James’s Parish was lauded for her tireless efforts in aiding the destitute during the harsh winter months. Her selfless dedication to distributing food and clothing to the impoverished has earned her widespread recognition and gratitude from the local populace.”
“That is lovely, but not what I’m looking for.” Her mother was almost at the bottom of the page. Christina had turned the page and was reading.
“Here it is.” Her mother sat up straighter and began to read to her. “ Intrigue and Scandal: Society’s Latest Whispers . London’s high society was abuzz with speculation following the clandestine rendezvous of Lord Wolfton, known for his rakish exploits, and a mysterious young woman at a recent charity fundraiser. Eyewitnesses report their captivating interaction during Beethoven’s Sonata No. 14 performance, sparking whispers of romance and intrigue among the ton.”
“Mother. I was not alone with the man. There had to be fifty people in the ballroom, and Lady Hazelton was with me the entire time except when I turned the music pages for him. As a matter of fact, I spent time speaking to Richard St. John, who was there as well. Is there any mention of our speaking to each other?” She shook the paper for emphasis.
“He is not a viscount, nor is he being sought after by every female of the ton . Think about your sister and the impact a scandal with Lord Wolfton will have on her and Lord St. John.”
“There is no scandal, and you and I know that if the ton wants to make a scandal appear out of thin air, they will, and there is nothing we can do about it.”
“Mrs. Hartfield.” Mrs. Murthy came up next to them.
Relieved, Christina rose from her chair. “I’ll leave you two to discuss shop business.” She was gone before her mother or Mrs. Murthy could say a word, the London Chronicle still in her hand.
She stepped outside and headed toward Bedford Square Garden, a quiet square on the way home. She quickly found a vacant bench. She sat and turned to the back of the paper.
“Viscount Wolfton’s Musical Marvel at the Charity Fundraiser.
“Amidst the gathering for the Society for the Relief of Indigent Widows and Orphans’ esteemed fundraiser, the stately Hazelton residence witnessed a bewitching spectacle: Lord Wolfton, renowned for his philanthropic generosity and charismatic presence, provided the event with an enchanting musical performance.
“Captivating everyone with his performance of Mr. Beethoven’s Sonata No. 14, Lord Wolfton’s mastery of the piano transported attendees to another place. Amidst the musical interlude, a tantalizing whisper began to circulate among the assembled guests, hinting at the presence of a captivating young woman whose grace and charm were said to rival even the beguiling melody. Speculation swirled regarding the mysterious maiden who accompanied the viscount. She certainly had his full attention.
“As the event unfolded, the whispers of society’s elite continued. Who was she? We will have to wait until Friday at the charity luncheon. It would be worth the ticket price to see for yourself.”
Christina lowered the paper, glad her mother hadn’t seen this article, at least not yet. She got up and continued on her way home. Now she knew what her mother was talking about.
Thirty minutes later, Mr. Murthy opened the door for her. “A message for you, Miss Christina.” The butler offered her the salver with a neatly folded note atop.
“Thank you, Mr. Murthy.” She unfolded the parchment and quickly scanned its contents.
Once she finished reading the message, Christina refolded the note, her mind racing. With a decisive nod, she slipped on her coat and made her way to the door.
As she stepped outside, Christina hailed a passing hackney and climbed in.
“Cleveland Row, if you please,” she instructed the driver. She sat looking out the window as the carriage navigated the crowded streets. She had no idea why Mrs. Dove-Lyon requested that she attend her. She let out a heavy sigh. Perhaps she is not pleased with the gossip either. She’d find out soon enough. The carriage stopped by the lady’s entrance to the Lyon’s Den. She raised the brass lion door knocker and let it drop.
“Good day, Miss Hartfield. I’m Helena. You are expected.” Ah, the gatekeeper of the woman’s entrance. Her sister had told her Helena had the mysterious ability to keep undesirables away. Now she understood why. Helena’s raven-black hair was pulled back into a chignon at the base of her neck. Delicate yet expressive arched eyebrows framed her deep brown eyes. Her smile was open and pleasant, yet there was an unmistakable glint in her eye, a silent warning that she was not to be trifled with.
“This way, please.”
Christina followed Helena upstairs to Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s private salon where she knocked once and then proceeded to open the door. “Thank you, Helena.” She took one step inside and halted.
“Lord Wolfton.” He sat in the leather fireside chair with a book, as if reading in Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s salon was a daily occurrence. He looked up and smiled, then put the book down and stood.
“Wolf.” He nodded at the sheet in her hand. “The way the broadsheet speaks of us, we are on a more familiar basis, are we not?”
She looked at her hand and was surprised to see she still held the London Chronicle .
“I find it amazing that merely speaking to you makes me a contender for viscountess. Or is it, mistress?”
“Ouch.” He cringed at her accusation. “You wound me. And here I thought you gave the gossipers fodder for their gristmill.”
A white-hot flash of anger spiraled through her. She had all she could do to keep the words behind her teeth.
“My feeling, exactly.” He moved closer to her. “It pained me to think that… It doesn’t matter what I thought. Forgive me for doubting you.”
“You have been betrayed before.” Her gaze was unwavering as he stepped closer.
“One gets accustomed to it. There is nothing one can do about it except choose friends and what you tell them wisely. Then there are those who will make what they want out of a situation.” His voice was a flat monotone as he took the broadside from her hand and casually tossed it among a heap of discarded papers. “As someone did here.”
The door creaked open, drawing their attention. They turned to see Mrs. Dove-Lyon enter the room, breaking the tension.
“Thank you both for joining me.” She appeared as resigned as Wolf. “I can only imagine your surprise when you saw the papers. Lady Hazelton has been quite busy today, attempting to find an astronomer you can speak with, Christina. However, I was tempted to release you from our arrangement after seeing the broadsheet. But then again, Lady Hazelton would not be pleased. She’d be one person short for the other events.” She paused briefly, considering her words before continuing, “I can persuade her to agree to another substitute if necessary.”
Christina and Wolf glanced at each other.
“Miss Hartfield.” Wolf took her hand. “Would you do me the honor and accompany me to the events scheduled for the Society?”
“Thank you, my lord—”
He gave her that impish smile that would make any woman sigh.
“Thank you, Wolf. I accepted your invitation yesterday. My answer hasn’t changed. Besides, I promised Lady Hazelton that I would attend and fulfill Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s responsibilities. I cannot go back on my word.”
“Wolf?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon glanced at the viscount and Christina. “I didn’t realize you were on a casual name basis.”
“Thank you, Christina.” Wolf kissed her knuckles. They both turned and glanced at Mrs. Dove-Lyon, daring her to say anything.
“Very well,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said. “Tuesday, there is a luncheon at Hazelton House. On Friday, there is a concert at the Royal Academy. The big event is the gala, which will be held one week from Saturday at Hazelton House.”
“I’m glad that’s settled.” Christina took her gloves from her reticule. “If that will be all?”
“You’re leaving?” Wolf’s shocked expression surprised her until she realized that women were left standing alone, not him.
“Yes. Regrettably, I have another engagement. Rather than collecting me for the event, I’ll join you at Hazelton House on Tuesday. It may be one way of quieting the gossip, and it will soothe my mother.”
Wolf’s eyebrow arched slightly, the only sign of his initial surprise. He gave her a gracious nod of acceptance and understanding, the corners of his mouth turned up in a small, reassuring smile.
“Very well,” his expression seemed to say, “I will see you there.”
She turned to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “I’m grateful for your assistance in resolving this matter.” However, her mother would disagree.
Christina hurried down the stairs and out the lady’s entrance. She briskly made her way down Cleveland Row to St. James Street, her footsteps echoing against the cobblestones. Fueled by determination, she continued for ten minutes until she reached the bookshop again.
With any luck, her mother would not be there. The last thing she wanted was to discuss the gossip in the London Chronicle and that she was still attending the charity luncheon accompanied by Wolf—Lord Wolfton. She would much rather spend her time reading the copy of the 1702 edition of David Gregorie’s The Use of the Celestial Globe in the Study of the Stars that she ordered. It was to arrive today.
The bell tinkled as she opened the shop door. Mrs. Murthy looked up from the cashier’s desk.
“I thought you would return,” Mrs. Murthy continued, stacking the books on the desk. “The book you ordered arrived today. I put it here on my desk”—she pointed to an empty spot, “when someone came along and inquired about it.”
Christina stood in front of her, shocked and curious. While London was a big city, she knew those who would be interested in Mr. Gregorie’s book through her connection with the astronomical society, and they had their own copies.
“The gentleman is sitting in the far corner by the window.” Mrs. Murthy gestured to the back.
Christina whipped her head around to see who had taken her prize book. “Thank you. Perhaps I should see if the gentleman has questions about the text.” With his back to her and his head down, she had no idea who he was.
Mrs. Murthy tried to contain her smile. “Of course. He may have some questions.”
Without another thought, Christina made her way to the far back corner near the window, mentally making a list of people who fit this man’s appearance based on what she could see. The gentleman was tall and lean, his broad shoulders suggesting a well-built frame. Even from behind, his athletic build was evident, and the way he studied the text with such focus made her curious about his identity.
“Excuse me, can I be of any assistance?” She came up behind him.
The gentleman tilted his head to the side, a warm smile on his lips.
“Richard.” Christina sat next to him, her eyes lighting up with recognition and delight. “I should have known it was you.”
“You are just the person I need to speak to.” He picked up the book and showed her a page. “I was intrigued by Gregorie’s discussion on the practical applications of the celestial globe as a tool to determine celestial coordinates. Can you believe these methods are still relevant, a hundred and twenty-five years after he wrote them?”
She pulled her attention away from the book and looked into his eyes. He wasn’t teasing. He really wanted an answer.
“Definitely. The methods explained by Professor Gregorie are the bedrock of our understanding of the heavens. While our telescopes and observatories have advanced, the fundamental principles of celestial navigation remain unchanged. The celestial globe continues to serve as a cornerstone of our astronomical pursuits, guiding us in our quest to unravel the mysteries of the heavens.”
“Do you agree,” Richard went on, “that while the celestial globe can provide a guide for sailors and travelers, it’s not as precise as our sextants and nautical almanacs?”
“The celestial globe remains a trusty companion for those navigating the vast seas of the night sky.”
Richard sat back and tapped the desk. “Well said. After reading Professor Gregorie’s and Reverend James Bradley’s books on this very subject, an idea crossed my mind.” He paused.
“I’m listening,” she encouraged.
“Your passion for the stars is inspiring.” She enjoyed Richard’s genuine enthusiasm. “I’d like your assistance in organizing a stargazing event for children. It would be an opportunity for them to learn about astronomy and navigate using the stars.”
Christina’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect. “What a marvelous idea! Of course, I will gladly work with you. There is so much we can teach them.”
“Then I will relinquish the book to you.” He handed Christina her prize. “Mrs. Murthy mentioned you were eager for the book.” He stood. “I must leave, but please, give this program more thought. We can discuss it more the next time I see you.”
They said their goodbyes, and with her mind busy with possibilities for a children’s astronomy class, Christina started drafting a plan for the program. She found herself thinking about Richard. He was interesting, enthusiastic, and remarkably easy to speak to. The prospect of working with him was as exciting as the program itself. A small smile played on her lips as she realized how much she looked forward to their next meeting.