A Study In Seduction(114)
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.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lingering 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.”