A Study In Seduction(38)
She took her sister’s hand as they descended the carriage and walked toward the field amid a crowd of well-dressed men and women, all accompanied by eager children.
Flowers, streamers, and balloons decorated the field, and several booths sat around the perimeter. A wooden platform demarcated an area for dancing, and musicians were tuning up their instruments. Sebastian sat at a cottage piano, in consultation with another musician over a sheet of music.
Before Lydia and Jane reached the entrance, Lord Northwood approached with a young woman at his side.
Lydia’s heart gave a little leap. Dear heaven, he looked magnificent. The points of his collar emphasized the hard angles of his face, and he walked with an easy, masculine grace that made Lydia want to gaze upon him for hours.
“Good morning.” He stopped in front of them and removed his hat, his dark eyes slipping over Lydia. Her skin prickled with awareness. “A pleasure to see you again.”
He made the introductions, and Lady Talia Hall greeted them with warmth.
“I’m glad to meet you properly, Miss Kellaway.” Though the young woman had more delicate, refined features, she and her brothers shared a resemblance in their dark eyes and high cheekbones that lent them a foreign air. “I apologize for the… chaos of our initial encounter.”
She threw Alexander a pointed look. He had the grace to look somewhat abashed.
“There is no need to apologize, Lady Talia,” Lydia assured her as they handed their tickets over at the entrance and went into the festival grounds.
“Miss Jane, I’d be honored if you’d accompany me to the game booths,” Northwood said. “And there’s a display of dioramas that I think you’ll find quite fascinating.”
He extended his hand to her. Jane glanced at Lydia for permission, and for an instant Lydia didn’t want to let her go. There were too many people, too much activity…
Stop it. Northwood would never let anything happen to Jane.
She nodded. Jane gave Northwood a brilliant smile and took his hand. Trepidation slipped through Lydia as she watched them melt into the crowd.
Much to Lydia’s gratitude, Talia remained by her side as they walked around the festival and met various people, including Lord Castleford—a man whose tall, imposing appearance might have been intimidating were it not for the welcoming twinkle in his eyes and the broad smile creasing his tanned face.
“Miss Kellaway’s father was Sir Henry Kellaway,” Talia told Lord Castleford. “He was a scholar of considerable renown on the subject of Chinese history. Perhaps you knew of him?”
“Indeed. I had the pleasure of making his acquaintance several times, Miss Kellaway. His lectures were brilliant.”
Lydia smiled, warmed by the evident admiration in Lord Castleford’s voice. They spoke about her father’s work and travels as they continued through the festival grounds, before Lydia turned to see Northwood approaching with Jane.
Her heart twisted at the sight of them—her Jane, as sweet as cake even in her mourning dress, her hands gesturing as she spoke and laughed, her green eyes sparkling. Northwood walked beside her, his hand on her shoulder, his head lowered to better listen to her chatter. His smile flashed every so often, or he responded with gestures and laughter of his own.
They could not have appeared more opposite—the tall, dark-haired viscount and the pale, brown-haired girl, but somehow they looked entirely natural. Somehow they fit.
Lydia’s throat constricted. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t allow herself to feel this way about Lord Northwood. Moreover, she couldn’t let Jane become attached to a man with whom Lydia had no future.
She had no future with any man. Despite what she’d told Northwood, she knew her destiny—she was fated to live a spinster life, fulfilled by her work and her love for Jane. And while Lydia sometimes could not deny her longing for more, she had to be content with her fate. It could have been so much worse.
“Lydia, you must see the dioramas!” Jane hurried forward. “They’ve got one that shows the Aurora Borealis and another the changing seasons in Paris. It’s lovely. My favorite is the one of Africa, though, with the sun rising and the lions actually moving. Isn’t that right, Lord Northwood?”
Northwood watched Jane affectionately as the girl turned away to answer a question Talia asked. Then he glanced at Lydia.
“Have you solved the problem, my lord?” she asked in an effort to remind herself of the only thing she wanted from him.