In Regency England, two brothers vie for Mabel's affections. Their passionate rivalry puts her reputation on the line and tests both her sense and sensibility to the maximum. On the verge of despair, she must cast the die: to decipher the most enigm...
Mabel woke up in happy tears, since in her dream she had already possessed the talent she wanted to acquire against her natural inclinations.
Her lips trembled and tears welled between her already wet eyelashes again, this time over losing what she had never had. She longed for the dream to go on, but the divine sensation slipped through her fingers, no longer as real as the bed under her back. She couldn't dance. Everett didn't love her. He didn't love her!
Miss Carter, who apparently had called her by name—and that call was what had become interpreted by her dream as Everett's love-stricken voice—pulled the curtains open.
The dusk was falling outside.
Dressed only in her shift, tears drying out, Mabel jumped out of bed to run to the window. Draft touched her boldly through the muslin of her shift. The fabric's movements hid a caress she had never noticed before, speeding her heart, shifting something inside her as her bare soles pounded the floor. She almost cried out at the new sensations, but didn't dive back under the covers like a coward. If the wind brushed the silk against her skin, what's the harm? Wind was nothing.
Her feet danced on the creaking boards to ward off the chill while she stuck out to the waist from the window and twisted to see the sky. It was cloudless and perfect. Perfect for observing the celestial bodies, at least.
Whenever she had been out after the dark had fallen, it had always been in a hurry, returning home after a ball or a visit with the neighbours. If anyone paid attention to the stars, it was for a brief glance or a trivial comment.
Tonight was a special occasion.
They went out without haste, intending to spend hours specially to gaze at the night sky and discuss astronomy.
Mabel wrapped her shoulders against the night's damp, more awake than she had ever been, even in the daytime. Even without the magnification, from the balcony, the sky left her breathless. The wisps of clouds rushing across the moon's cold face invited her to weep. The familiar countryside became a stage for the yet unwritten drama.
"Isn't that magnificent?" she exclaimed, swirling from the balcony's railing to see her company.
Hazel covered a yawn, staring at the stars. They had her attention, but her mind seemed to be far away.
"It's very pretty."
Mabel didn't mind that Hazel grew tired of their project early, or that Amelia hardly partook at all, preferring to cuddle in the corner under an enormous quilt.
The stars had never been closer to her, suiting her mood as they unraveled before her in an endless, ethereal procession across the sky.
The moon's pitted surface charmed her with its desolation.
The red glow of Mars reminded her of the terrors of the recent war, and that it had ended, praise the Lord.
The silvery mist of the Milky Way resolved itself into yet more splatters of stars when she turned the spyglass at them. And there were always the stars that shone the brightest among the lesser ones, like some persons did in human societies. Like Everett.
Miss Carter pointed out the names of the constellations that came from the heroic imagination of the ancients.
They were the hunters of the sky, and the dancing muses, and monsters of every kind. How many tales could one glean amongst them? Mabel tried to remember so she could do so later, on her own, even if she had to squint with her poor human eyes.
It was a charmed night. The morning star—or planet Venus, as the modern scientific knowledge informed Mabel—rose too soon.
But rise it did, foreshadowing the dawn. Alas, alas for the morning!
"Thank you, Miss Carter!" Mabel exclaimed. "You have been so kind to invite us."
"It is I, who must thank you for sharing my enthusiasm for astronomy," Mabel could hear more than see her smile in the twilight. "For I would have felt quite lonely, if it wasn't for you."
She sighed, not comprehending how the others stayed so indifferent. She loathed every break she had to take to answer nature's calls! Yet Hazel had gone to bed long before Venus's rising. Amelia had faithfully remained on the balcony, but she had fallen asleep in her rocking chair as discreetly as everything else she did.
"How could they sleep? How could anyone sleep on a night like this?" Mabel cried out to the Heavens and Miss Carter.
Miss Carter smiled back, as if sharing a cypher with her.
Her head span, now completely full of stars and other exciting things that existed in the world of someone like Miss Carter.
Then, her face fell because she remembered that, unlike Miss Carter, she had two brothers. Her income would be a pittance if she didn't marry, even if her father could set some aside for her. Maybe she could live thriftily on that, but it certainly would not be enough to indulge the idle curiosity in sciences.
But perhaps, perhaps there was something out there, some way, other than a marriage for a woman to exist and not be shunned by the society. Or a marriage that didn't demand of a woman to abandon girl's trifles. But no. That was impossible. Married woman's responsibilities were to the household, her husband and her children. All else would be forgotten.
Miss Carter packed away her treasured spyglass and knelt next to Amelia.
"Time to go to bed," she said gently.
Amelia rubbed her eyes and stretched languidly under the patchwork of colours and shapes. "But you have just woken me up. And now I am awake."
"Shh. If I am at fault for disturbing your sweet slumber, I shall do a penance."
"Oh?"
"I promise to sing you to sleep." Miss Carter's voice dripped with honey, so soothing that Mabel wished she could get a lullaby from her as well. Amelia welcomed the prospect with a throaty chuckle. More hitherto unknown strings got plucked and vibrated in Mabel's brimming heart.
The lady and her companion huddled together, directing themselves to their bedrooms, after bidding Mabel a good night.
Mabel was envious anew of their friendship, and of Amelia's inoffensive nature. When she slipped into the room, she lifted her candle over her sister to see her face and whispered, "Hazel? Are you asleep?"
The soft whistling sound of her sister's breathing was her only reply.
With a sigh, Mabel blew out the candle's teasing tongue and climbed under the covers.
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