A Study In Seduction(11)

Every day it was the same—breakfast, lessons, lunch, an outing, tea. And it wasn’t as if the outings were anywhere terribly interesting, only to the park or library or shops.

“Jane.”

Jane glanced up. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Do you remember what a remainder is?”

“A number left over.”

“Good. This problem will have a remainder, but start with the whole number, then multiply it by the divisor. See, what’s so interesting about long division is that you’re able to do division, multiplication, and subtraction all in the same equation.”

“Lyddie?”

“Hmm?”

“Is it wrong to keep a secret?”

Lydia looked almost startled. “A secret? What kind of secret?”

“Oh, nothing that would hurt anybody. Just… you know. A secret. Something no one else knows. Like that you’ve got a bag of bull’s-eyes tucked beneath your bed.”

“Well, I… I suppose it depends on what the secret is. But if it doesn’t hurt anybody to keep it, then no. I don’t think it’s wrong.” Lydia reached out and pushed a lock of hair from Jane’s forehead. “Do you have sweets stored away somewhere?”

“No.” Jane gave her sister a winning smile. “If I did, I’d share them with you.”

“Lovely.” Lydia gave Jane’s cheek a gentle pinch. “But you’d still have to figure out how to share them equally. And for that, you need to learn how to divide.”

Jane made a face of mock irritation before turning her concentration to the problem. Although she liked mathematics, the way her sister sometimes talked, one would think the world revolved around numbers.

Jane supposed in some ways it probably did, though she had the sense the world was driven by something far more mysterious than sums.

Something like riddles, conundrums, puzzles.

Secrets.





Chapter Three




The locket swung back and forth, sunlight captured in the silver casing. Alexander lifted the chain to study the engraving. Edging his thumbnail into the seam, he opened the little compartment.

The miniature image of a woman with sparrow-brown hair stared back at him, the hint of laughter that curved her lips mitigating the imperiousness of her pose. The other side of the locket’s casing bore a picture of a man, his features narrow and strong, a neat beard covering his jaw and a serious expression in his eyes.

Alexander had a sudden image of Lydia Kellaway wearing this locket around her neck, enclosing it in her hand every so often as she thought of her beloved parents.

Not an emotion he would ever have extended to his own parents—his iron-fisted father, his cold-as-glass mother, who’d shocked them all with her shameful affair.

Sometimes Alexander still couldn’t believe it. The Countess of Rushton, imperious to a fault with her dulcet tones and porcelain skin, debasing herself with a common soldier.

At least she’d had the sense to run off, Alexander thought. Otherwise he’d have thrown her out himself after the affair came to light.

A grunt made him look up. His twenty-nine-year-old brother Sebastian slumped into a chair, his eyes heavy lidded and his jaw unshaven. He dragged a hand through his messy hair and yawned.

“Late night?” Alexander asked, his voice tight.

Sebastian shrugged, staring at the table as if he expected breakfast to appear. He yawned again and headed to the sideboard and the coffeepot.

“Where did you go?” Alexander asked.

“Concert at the Eagle Tavern. Their pianist canceled, so they asked me to fill in. Thought I’d sleep here so’s not to disturb Talia or the old bird.”

“You thought performing at the Eagle Tavern was a good idea?”

Sebastian groaned and took a swallow of coffee. “It’s a respectable enough place. Besides, no one cares, Alex.”

“I do.”

“You’re the only one, then.”

Frustration tightened Alexander’s chest. For all his efforts following their parents’ divorce, his siblings had failed to do a single thing to help restore the family’s reputation. Sebastian cared nothing for what others thought, and if Talia had the choice, she would seclude herself at their country estate and never visit London.

Alexander, on the other hand, lived within the thick of it—attending social events, clubs, and business meetings as if nothing had gone wrong, as if their mother had not left them in disgrace. As if their deep association with Russia were not an increasing burden.