London, England. Winter of 1815
Oliver Jonas Queen, the 10th Duke of Starling strode into the quaint, little bookstore, took off his hat and gloves, then shook the snow off of his coat. His tall Hessian riding boots were coated with packed snowflakes. He took a deep breath, the familiar scent of old and new books welcoming and calming. The quietness of the store became even more apparent as the door closed on the noises of the horse drawn carriages and the crowds of humanity that walked the cobbled streets of London.
"Can I help you, my lord?" asked the eager to please storekeeper. The expensive and tailored clothing of the tall gentleman who stood before the store owner signaled a possible sale.
"Your, Astronomy books?" Oliver inquired, as he glanced over at all the stacks of books and rows and rows of bookshelves full with book spines and titles.
"Last row in the back. Can I help you find something?"
"No….thank you." Oliver replied. He was slowly trying to find his footing after his return home from the Napoleonic Wars. His former self would not have considered thanking the man who worked in the store, but Oliver had come home a different person. The frolicking of youth, his family heritage and the idealism of duty to God and Queen had led him to serve under Wellington in the 8th Brigade. What came back with him was a deep respect for life and an emptiness within his heart at the loss of so many good men. Friends.
Blood was shed for the security of his country and his world and he would never look at either again without the true understanding of sacrifice. His father had passed away while Oliver was away at war, one more loss that shaped the man he now was; forcing him to take over the reins and responsibilities of his vast family estate.
The nightmares and the memories of battleground brutality lingered even as he walked in the daylight. But, out of the chaos of war came a constant...the night time stars. They had followed him on his three year journey across France and into the battle of Waterloo. They comforted a lonely soldier who never once shed a tear and the Captain who wrote letters of condolence to families of men who died with honor. And they still diligently followed him home to London where they twinkled and sparkled over him in his family estate of Arrowstead. He had and always would love, the stars.
The newest Astronomy papers published by the Royal Society of London brought Oliver out of his solitude and yes, if he admitted it to himself, hiding... to purchase the scientific periodical.
Inheriting the Dukedom upon his return from the war had made him a target for all the meddling matchmaking mothers of the ton. A Duke was unmarried and in need of a wife and heir. The unwanted attention made him detest the ballrooms of society. He had to be careful who he talked to, and heaven forbid if he smiled or made eye contact with any of the young women who strolled the dance floors; the next thing he'd know, he'd be engaged to one of them.
Oliver made his way towards the empty end of the bookstore. As he turned into the final row, sunlight streamed in through a stained-glass window at the end and gracefully highlighted a woman whose head was buried deep within a book. A kaleidoscope of the colors green, red and blue tinged her entire body. A loose errant curl of thick honey blonde hair curled around her long elegant neck as one of her hands absentmindedly pushed her glass spectacles up her nose. He watched as that same hand then touched her lips, full and delectably pink, to moisten her fingers before turning the page of the periodical she held.
'Delectably pink?' thought Oliver as he shook his head and walked forward to peruse the bookshelf. What was he thinking? Thoughts of heirs and matchmaking mothers should be plenty of fodder to keep his thoughts off young, pretty ladies.
And she was pretty, even with the unique wire glass spectacles and outdated clothing that reflected gentle care and discreet mending and letting out. She was undoubtedly a woman of the ton. Her clothing may have seen a few more seasons than the typical high society debutante, but it was clean and cared for. Even if she had fallen on hard times, she took pride in herself, valued what she had and she apparently enjoyed science. Three things that made Oliver...like her.
He would venture to guess she was perhaps a nanny or companion to a family relation. It was an unfortunate by product of the stringent society in which women lived in his time. They lived at the whim of men. They couldn't own property and everything they owned belonged to their father's or their husband's. It wasn't something Oliver was proud of, but it was what it was, for now. He understood the winds of change and they always swirled about and never went away. He at least knew his family's stature and name would provide a favorable match for his own sister, Thea. He could only hope she would find love when she decided to marry. As for himself, marriage was the last thing on his mind. Healing and taking care of his family were his priorities.
It was a small aisle, so when the young woman didn't move at his appearance he took another moment to observe her. She was so taken by what she was reading that Oliver didn't exist. How...refreshing.
Oliver glanced over her shoulder to see she was reading a periodical on Astronomy. A woman of good taste he thought as he smiled at her unawareness.
"Pardon me," Oliver said, fighting a need to see what she looked like and the need to find his periodical and leave. Being alone with a young lady, unchaperoned, was extremely dangerous.