The Lady Astronomer (23 page)

The clockwork owl toddled over to Lucretia
and bumped her legs asking for a hug.

“Orion.” She cried noisily and
hastily apologised through her tears. “I feel like I have cried an ocean,
no more, no more. Thank you all so much. Come here big fella, hug!”

On A Ship, Somewhere

Dearest Lucretia

,

Mr. B here, and never mind how exciting I
thought my travels through the Wilds are, word has reached me that you have had
your own time of adventure! I am so sorry for your troubles and losses, but a
little, or rather a big birdie, tells me that all is now well again with you
and yours.

I have been collecting night plants on my
travels from which I shall return shortly, and join the land of the Desk-Bound.
The new Society is doing well, but needs my time and input, so it is up to me
to hang up my travelling boots and helmet for the time being.

You must come and see me in London, and I
hope you and your brothers shall join our Society and attend regularly.

In the meantime, please accept my small
gift–I did have a rather rare Bat for you, of yet as unknown name, big bugger
he was, he flew off before I could get him (I think it was a him) over to you.
Perhaps just as well, as some are blood-suckers.

But my dear, I shall take no more of your
time, I hope you enjoy the Moonflowers, Night Phlox, Purity Cosmos, Moonraker
Cape Fuchsia, and one which–I hope you don’t mind – I have named for you, a
species of lily, called the Lucretia Stargazer.

Your friend

,

Mr. B.

The Castle

Dear Lucretia,

My writing is getting very good, isn’t it?
My father, the king, and Mama, the queen, say I am doing very well for my age,
and I am not getting very many inky spatters all over the page any more. Or on
my nice dresses. Or the table. Or the floor.

Empress The Cat is going to have babies,
which is very exciting, and father says I can come and see you soon.

I miss you and am looking forward to
visiting.

Your friend,

Princess Kitty

Postscript Father says you are to have a royal
kitten, so I shall bring one for you with me. What colour would you like? Oh,
Father says they will not be pink. Never mind. I will pick one for you, I am
sure it will be lovely and cuddly and soft anyway.

“Now, I have some really rather
marvellous news, if I could have your attention.” Freddie stood at the
head of the table.

“I am very pleased to be able to tell
you that Mrs. P here has consented to be my wife.” He waited for the
congratulations to roll over him.

“Thank you all, we are very happy
indeed. I am also delighted to say that the Great Forty-Foot is fully finished
and my assistant and I will be starting work directly after this meal. No need
to groan, Lucretia. You have had too much time off, my dear. You will forget
what you are trained to do!”

She threw her napkin at him. “Freddie!”

“Ah, yes, I have missed our little
spats. So my friends, let us raise our glasses and raise a toast. To my soon to
be wife, our great telescopic accomplishment, and to Lucretia.”

“A sister, at last I shall have a
sister!” Mrs. P beamed and grasped Lucretia’s hand.

“I really am happy for you, and
Freddie does need someone to keep the everyday tasks such as dressing properly,
eating, washing, and sleeping, in hand.”

Mrs. P looked aghast and Lucretia laughed, “I
am only joking, my dear Mrs. P. Well, only half joking.”

“I know you and I are very different,
Lucretia. If I may be as bold as to call you that, but I respect you and all
that you do, and I hope that we shall become good friends.”

“Of course we shall become good
friends. It might be a start if I knew your first name? All this Mrs. P and Ms.
H do not for a cosy friendship make.”

“How silly of me! It is Clara.”

“Well then, Clara, I shall cherish the
gift of your friendship, for I, maybe more than others, know the value of a
true friend.”

“Marvellous.” The plump woman
bounced up and down in her seat and Lucretia averted her eyes from the
ever-present sight of her bosom.

“Now tell me, dear. That Rammstein is
a bit of a dish, isn’t he? How are you two getting along?”

Lucretia blushed. “I am unused to having
a good friend, never mind sharing confidences of that sort, Clara. Perhaps we
should start slowly and build up to that kind of thing.”

Clara looked at her knowingly. “Well,
it shall be as you wish, my dear. Although your blushes are as eloquent as any
amount of words may be.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Oh, yes.” She laughed. “But
don’t worry. It is he who follows you with his eyes, and who’s very self,
lights up whenever you enter a room.”

*

Lucretia stood with Freddie before the Forty-Foot,
looking up.

The air was cold and the sky was completely
clear, stars winking and blinking in the blackness.

“Freddie?” She broke the quiet
contemplation.

“Mmm?”

“I’m very happy for you and Clara.”

“So am I!”

“Freddie?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“I saw a comet.”

“What?”

“I saw a comet, I’m sure I did. The
night Orion was left with me, I saw a comet.”

“Are you sure, quite sure? You were
tired and horribly distraught you know.”

“Freddie! I know what I saw!” She
adjusted her new monoscope. She still needed to get used to how clear it was
and the extra-sharp focus it afforded her.

“If you say you saw a comet, then you
saw a comet. Congratulations, Lucretia! I do believe you are the first recorded
woman to have done so!”

“But Freddie, I was in a prison cell,
I don’t even know what day it was, never mind having charts and paper and quill
to record it correctly.”

“Ah, Lucretia, I’m not sure that I
like this new worry wart aspect of you. Fear not, my dear. If you have seen
one, my bets are that you will see another!” He took his sister by the
hands and whirled her around.

“Freddie! Dizzy! Going to be ill!”

“Oops, sorry. It’s probably your new
monoscope too, making you a bit wobbly until you adjust to it, or it adjusts
for you or something. Didn’t Al do such a good job? And I’m quite stunned by
Orion the Second. You should have seen Al with that Rapier fellow. I don’t
think I’ve ever seen our mild-mannered brother anywhere near a weapon, never
mind holding one.”

“I don’t like to think about that,
Freddie. What if Al had been hurt? Rapier was a master after all.”

“A master sneak, thief, bully, social
climber, plotter, and killer.”

“Freddie, please.”

“I just wish that I could have had a
go at him, too, but Al needed to do what he needed to do.”

“And I am thankful for it. And
humbled.”

“Lucretia, this introspective thought
doesn’t become you one bit. Do you promise me that you will come to me, or to
one of us that you would be happy to share your cares with should they come
knocking? Lucretia?”

“I’m just so happy to be back, and I’m
so happy to have such great big brothers.”

“Now I know you’re definitely not
better yet. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a compliment directed at me pass your
lips before. More of the fawning comments please, less of the introspection,
have we a deal?” Freddie ran before she could give him one of her
legendary dead arms.

*

“Ready?” Freddie called down the
speaking tube to the shed below. He stood on a walkway, rope attached to a
pulley in one hand, ready to manoeuvre the enormous telescope on the say-so of
his sister.

“Ready!” She looked around the
room with the charts, and the candle, speaking tube, hearing trumpet and all of
her Astronomy tools, calculators, and devices. She felt like she really was
truly home.

“Alright, brother, on my say so.”
Lucretia called the co-ordinates out to him and he ever so slightly pulled on
the rope to move the scope.

He secured the rope to keep the telescope
in position, grateful that there was no wind to speak of tonight. It would have
veered the whole thing wildly off course.

Another thing to think of, he supposed, but
then he would have to spend a while coming to terms with and getting the hang
of stargazing with something quite so large and, let’s face it, unwieldy.

Freddie climbed up the ladder and put his
eye to the eye-piece. Taking a deep breath he looked through. The mirrors within
the barrel of the telescope must not be working! He couldn’t see a thing, and
he cursed under his breath.

Unless Lucretia had made a mistake in her
calculations, but that eventuality seemed highly unlikely indeed. She was
nothing if not meticulous, and he thanked his lucky stars for having her as his
assistant.

He made his way back down the ladder,
huffing and puffing, back across the walkway and to the speaking tube.

“Lucretia?”

“Yes?” Her disembodied voice
floated back up to him.

“I can’t see a thing. Are you quite
sure that your calculations are correct?”

“Freddie! How can you ask me that?”

“Come on, Lucretia. After your time
away you could have gotten a little you know…”

“Do I know what, Freddie?”

“Never mind, little sis. Are you quite
sure that your calculations are correct?”

“Does a bear go to make his waters in
the woods?”

“Quite. I did have to ask, not that I’m
doubting you. It’s just you’d expect a brand new telescope, so carefully
crafted–more than once, might I add–to work excellently. I wonder what the
problem could be? Any ideas?”

She was silent for a time, and then, “This
stirs a memory for me.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Remember your Telescope Emporium and
the charming Mr. W who had a problem with his scope?”

“Oh, very bloody funny. Very bloody
funny. Let’s try this again, shall we, this time without suggesting that I, the
builder of the Great Forty-Foot, would forget to take the protective covering
from the lens. Would I?”

*

Lucretia turned her head toward Leibniz,
who had startled her. Her left eye, hugely magnified behind her monoscope,
fixed on the ring-tailed lemur.

“Leibniz, how many times have I asked
you not to make noise when I’m at a critical juncture?” She sighed. “What
are you knitting now, boy?”

The lemur sauntered over to her.

“Show, Leibniz, show,” she
demanded, raising herself from the roof and brushing down her dress.

“More ear-warmers for the owlets? You
are a good boy. But let’s get on with some more work before sunrise.” So
saying she lay down on her stomach again and lifted her Newtonian sweeper
telescope to her good eye.

“Now, where was I,” she whispered
to herself, trying to find the exact patch of sky she had been studying before
being so rudely interrupted.

Orion the Clockwork European Eagle Owl,
grew bored. He hadn’t been interested in the whole knitting debacle, though he
did really like his ear warmers, not that he would ever let Leibniz know. That
particular lemur did not need any more praise, in his opinion.

He toddled over to Lucretia and, getting no
response from waiting patiently for her to notice him, turned his head, peered
down and placed himself firmly in her monoscope’s sights.

“Oh, arse!” She turned to the owl
crossly. “Orion! Honestly! I’m not getting anything done tonight. That’s
right, you have the grace to look sheepish. You silly big boy. Oh, no, don’t
give me that sad face. Oh, alright then! Hug.”

“Now look, Orion, I do love you, but I
am actually trying to map progress here. Why don’t you go and spend some time
with Leibniz?” She turned her back and resumed her sweeping.

Owl looked at lemur and lemur looked at
owl.

Time passed, and both owl and lemur slept,
snoring lightly.

Notes From the
Author

The Lady Astronomer was inspired by the life
of Caroline Herschel (1750-1848). She suffered from both Smallpox and Typhus,
was a milliner, soprano, her brother William’s Assistant–he discovered Uranus,
then known as George’s Star for the king who funded the build of the ‘Great Forty-Foot’
telescope, and most importantly, perhaps, became the first woman in recorded history
to discover a comet.

Needless to say, this book is a tale of
fiction and most certainly should not be taken as fact.