A Study In Seduction (36 page)

The rumble in the room erupted into a sea of chatter as people surged forward to speak to the council and Alexander. A group of men surrounded him, several reaching to shake his hand and others to chastise him.

“Disgraceful, Northwood.” One man scowled at him. “The lot of it.”

“Good riddance to you,” another representative muttered.

“Pay them no mind,” a third man said, dismissing the naysayers with a shake of his head. “Most of us are well
aware of the good works you’ve done, my lord. I agree with Hadley and wish you well.”

Lydia turned to her colleagues, steeling herself against the urge to run to Alexander and… and what? She didn’t know whether she wanted to hit him or kiss him senseless. Perhaps both.

“We’ll take our leave, please, gentlemen,” she announced. “Our work here is done.”

They loaded up their books, rolled pages of calculations, stacked papers. Lydia snapped her satchel closed, grabbed her pointer, and strode toward the exit while trying very, very hard not to turn for one last look at Alexander.

“Lydia!” His urgent voice rose over the noise of the crowd.

Lydia’s stride hitched as a brief hope edged past the despair, but then his words echoed through her mind.
I intend to leave.

And why should it matter? He knew as well as she did their relationship could never be, so shouldn’t she simply wish him Godspeed on his journey and cherish what memories they had?

Of course, her heart did not care what she
should
do. It only cared what she longed to do.

“Er, Miss Kellaway?” Lord Perry touched her elbow to indicate she needed to keep moving as the crowd rustled behind them. A wall of people closed between her and where Alexander stood.

Lydia swallowed, gripping her satchel tighter. She straightened her shoulders and continued to the lobby.

“Lydia!” Frustration filled Alexander’s voice.

A tremor shook her. She quickened her pace, trying to
conceal herself within the circle of her colleagues. She could not face him, could not allow him to see how the mere thought of him leaving nearly broke her heart in two.

“Gentlemen!” Sebastian’s voice now, lifting over the cacophony. “Gentlemen, drinks served in the meeting room!”

The voices surged in appreciation as the men began making their way across the hall. Unable to help herself, Lydia glanced back once as the crowd parted in front of Alexander.

He pushed forward, his fists clenched, his expression determined. Their eyes met across the distance, and the dark frustration radiating from him prickled the hairs at the back of Lydia’s neck. Her chest constricted as she turned away.

Dr. Grant pulled the door open and held it while she hurried into the entrance hall. Her colleagues bustled around her, their voices humming with confusion and concern over the haste of her departure.

“Is the carriage ready, Lord Perry?” Lydia stopped, searching the crowded street in front of the building. “Please, we must hurry—”

A curse sounded behind them, followed by the bang of a door.

“Lydia!”

She froze. The other mathematicians turned, their stances guarded as Alexander stalked across the hall. His expression clouded, his hair disheveled and hanging over his forehead, sweat beading his brow, he looked like the devil himself come to collect her soul.

Several of the mathematicians crowded closer to Lydia in a semicircle of protection. As Alexander neared, she
schooled her features into an impassive expression, even as a swarm of emotions rioted through her.

“Lydia.” Alexander stopped, his chest heaving. An instant passed as his gaze swept over the other men, and then he made a visible effort to regain his composure. He took a breath and exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “Gentlemen. Lord Perry, Dr. Sigley, my deepest thanks for your efforts on my behalf.”

“Glad to help, my lord, though you ought to know assisting Miss Kellaway was foremost in our minds.”

“As well it should have been, Dr. Sigley.” Alexander straightened, his gaze going to Lydia. Her heart fluttered at the sensation of that mere look, urgent and insistent. “I… a moment alone, Miss Kellaway?”

The mathematicians rustled around her. At least two of them puffed out their chests in warning.

“Lydia.” Her name was an entreaty. “Please.”

Although her resolve was beginning to crack, she tried to muster the courage to withstand him. To withstand her own overwhelming desire to surrender.

“I’ve no idea why you need to speak with me alone, Lord Northwood,” she replied, surprising even herself with a tone that would have chilled a penguin. “You indicated quite clearly to the entire assembly that you’ve no wish to continue your work with the Society or fight to restore honor to your name, which we”—she indicated her colleagues—“worked for several hours to help you do. Lord Perry even canceled a lecture so that he could meet with us at Dr. Sigley’s office to formulate our evidence.”

Beside her, Lord Perry made a noise of agreement, narrowing his eyes at Alexander.

“I don’t—,” Alexander began.

“
Moreover
,” Lydia continued, pulling her satchel in front of her like a shield, “since you’ve made plans to return to Russia, there is no further reason for us to—”

“Lydia, be quiet, for pity’s sake,” Alexander snapped. “I did not say I wished to return to Russia
alone.
”

She blinked, her heart stilling for an instant. “Well, what else—”

“I did not say that because I don’t intend to.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” He took another breath. “I want you and Jane to come with me.”

Lydia gasped. She took a step back as if to evade the desperate hope in Alexander’s words, the hope that slipped into her blood and warmed her to the core. The mathematicians shifted and muttered. She took another step back and bumped into Dr. Grant.

Alexander did not take his gaze from her face. Lydia pressed a hand to her chest, the wild beat of her heart thumping against her palm, traveling the length of her arm. She turned to her colleagues.

“Er… excuse me, gentlemen, please. Alexander?”

Her mind whirling, she led him to a spot beside the staircase. She closed her eyes, drawing in a breath and blocking out the images, the
promise
, his words evoked. Then she turned and gave him a mutinous glare, slapping him hard on the arm.

“What are you going on about, you foolish man?”

Alexander rubbed his arm, amusement flashing beneath his desperation. “I’m going on about our future. I want you and Jane to come and live in St. Petersburg with me.”

“Are you mad?”
Why would her heart not still at those words, at the expectation in his beautiful eyes? Why was
hope coursing like brilliant light through her blood?
“I can’t live with you in Russia.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t marry you, Alexander!” Speaking the words aloud diminished the gleaming emotions that had begun to shine through her resolve. She sobered. “Haven’t we been over this time and again? Nothing has changed.”

“Why did you bring your troupe of geniuses to the meeting, then?”

She stared at him, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for detachment. “I knew they could assist me with proving your—”

“No. Why did you bring them? Why did you want to see me absolved?”

“I didn’t want you to be blamed for something that wasn’t your fault,” she replied. “I know how hard you’ve worked. You don’t deserve to have it all cast aside because you tried to save Jane and me.”

“So you felt you owed me?”

“Well, in a sense, yes, but—”

“Why else did you do it, Lydia?”

Lydia let out an exasperated sigh and stared past his shoulder at the opposite wall. What did it matter if he knew the truth? It changed nothing. Why not allow him to leave with at least the memory of what they meant to each other, even if a future together could never be?
Especially
since that future could never be.

“Lydia.”

“Oh, all right,” she snapped, swinging her gaze to his. “I still love you, Alexander. I wanted to help you because I still love you and I couldn’t stand the thought of those men belittling your character in front of such a large
audience, and you there with no one to defend you. All right? I’ve said it. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Most definitely.”

He gave her a wide grin, his happiness searing her with a love so potent it nearly took her breath away. Hope brighter than the sun glowed in Alexander’s eyes. He gripped her hands as if restraining himself from pulling her into his arms.

Lydia tightened her hands on his in return, loving the sensation of their fingers clasped together, his big hands engulfing hers. Yet she was unable to prevent sadness from clouding her pleasure.

“It still doesn’t matter, Alexander. Loving you with all my heart, everything I am… it changes nothing.”

“Marry me.”

She clutched his hands, praying for the strength to resist the beauty of everything those two simple words encompassed.

“Please stop,” she whispered. “If you want to run away—”

“I’m not running away from anything,” Alexander said, his voice threading with renewed urgency. “I’m running toward something, and I want to go there with you and Jane. Don’t you see? It’s the answer to our dilemma.”

Wariness flashed in her. “Going to a foreign country?”

“No. Going home.” His throat worked as he swallowed, the strong lines of his features edged with nervous tension. “Do you remember that night you told me we always have a choice? You were right. For too long I’ve let other people’s decisions, circumstances, dictate my life. No longer. Now I’m making the choices I want to make. And I choose you.”

“I can’t—”

“You can,” he insisted. “It
will
work, Lydia. I promise you. Make a life with me. Please.”

Her heart pounded so hard she heard the beat in her ears. She knew then why he’d come to this decision—in St. Petersburg they could live among people who knew nothing of their past circumstances. The reputations of both their families would not suffer further. They could live in freedom. Even hope. Joy.

Oh, God. Her mind worked frantically, shifting through all the arguments, weighing the risks, discarding the doubts. It was true. He was right—they could leave London together and start a new life in a city that belonged to Alexander, a place of white nights, troika bells, and cherished memories. A place that could be theirs alone, a place where they could live a life of their own making.

Was it possible? Was happiness within their reach? Could she trust him, trust
herself
, enough to take such a leap of faith?

“Choose, Lydia,” Alexander whispered.

“I… I choose Jane,” Lydia finally said, then put up a hand when he tried to speak. “I choose Jane
and
you, Alexander. I choose us.”

A huge smile broke across Alexander’s face. Happiness flooded Lydia’s veins and overflowed into her heart. He grabbed her and pulled her to him, lowering his mouth to hers.

She gave a squeak of surprise as he kissed her without restraint, claiming her as his, surrendering to her. The tension in her slipped away, her body relaxing against his as the kiss seemed to go on forever… until they both remembered where they were.

Alexander grasped Lydia’s shoulders, his gaze searching her flushed face, his dark eyes filled with love and hope.

“I love you,” he said. “More than life.”

“I love you,” she replied, and smiled. “More than numbers.”

Alexander chuckled. Lydia’s blush deepened as she glanced toward her colleagues, who still stood near the doors. All watching them.

Alexander cleared his throat and stepped away from Lydia. An awkward, embarrassed silence filled the lobby.

“Er… quite well done, Lord Northwood,” Dr. Sigley finally said.

Dr. Grant snorted. Another man clapped his hands, and then all the mathematicians started chuckling. Even Lord Perry, who appeared a bit gloomy at first, soon joined in the laughter and scattered applause.

Alexander grinned and looked at Lydia. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she tilted her head toward the mathematicians.

“Perhaps they would be interested in my theories of love after all.” She slipped her hand into his, knowing she would forever cherish the warmth of his gaze, the touch of his fingers. “In the end, I think we’d all choose love, Alexander. Every last one of us.”

L
ingering scents of the wedding breakfast filled the house—spiced apples, wine, galantine. Flowers bloomed from crystal vases, a few bright petals dusting the carpeted floors. Sun streamed through the curtains and bathed the drawing room in a golden glow.

“I have been contemplating it for the past two weeks,” Lord Rushton said, his brow furrowed. “It was all very interesting, what the professor imparted, though I confess to still not understanding one word.”

“I’d be pleased to explain it in more detail, my lord, if you would—”

“Never mind, Lady Northwood.” Rushton waved his hand in dismissal. “I’ll take your and Dr. Sigley’s word for it.”

“Very wise, Lord Rushton.” Mrs. Boyd nodded her approval.

Lydia caught Alexander’s eye from across the room, as he sat playing a game with Jane. He winked at her. She
smiled, her heart filling with so much love, so much gratitude, that she felt as if she were swimming in radiance.

For so long, her soul had been tight, crumpled, like a piece of clean white paper crushed into a ball. But now every time she sensed Alexander’s warm gaze on her, every time he touched her, she felt herself unwrapping, smoothing out. Releasing.

“Lydia, did Alexander tell you one of the most prominent mathematicians in St. Petersburg is a woman?” Talia asked. “You ought to meet her straightaway.”

“Our brother Darius might be acquainted with her,” Sebastian said as Alexander and Jane approached the group around the hearth. “He’s not a very social sort, but he knows a number of people. You will not lack for companionship.”

“Perhaps he might provide you with the names of suitable piano teachers so Jane might continue her lessons,” Mrs. Boyd said.