A Study In Seduction(45)

“It is?” Northwood blinked with surprise.

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Congratulations.”

“I’ll be damned.” Northwood shook his head, a grin breaking across his whiskered face. He slapped his hands together in victory. “You’re not putting me on, are you?”

“Of course not.” Lydia couldn’t prevent another smile, her disappointment over losing the locket yet again fading underneath a sudden rush of pure pride. In him.

Northwood chuckled, his fatigue dissipating with his well-deserved satisfaction. He ran his hands over his face and through his disheveled hair.

“And you wrote that.” He shook his head. “Good lord, woman, you’ve got a sharp mind, though I admit to occasionally believing you’d given me an unsolvable problem.”

“I wouldn’t have done that.” Lydia gathered the papers and slipped them into the desk drawer. The secret place in her heart knew she would always treasure them. “I do play fair, Lord Northwood.”

“You not only play fair, but you also play well.”

Lydia closed the drawer and stood, turning to face him. Apprehension twisted through her as she realized that his solving the problem meant that, once again, she owed him an undetermined debt.

He looked at her, his gaze intent on her face as if he were trying to see beneath the surface. Her hand curled around the back of the chair.

He continued looking at her, scrutinizing, assessing. “Women very rarely receive an education in advanced mathematics.”

“True.”

“So how did you?”

A black cloud threatened at the edge of Lydia’s consciousness. She pushed it aside, refusing to allow it to darken her pleasure over Northwood’s victory, over his admiration of her abilities.

“My grandmother,” she confessed. She rubbed her finger over a crack on the surface of the desk. “She was… I told you that my mother became quite ill when I was just a girl. But even then I had a fascination with numbers. My grandmother recognized my aptitude and convinced my father to hire a mathematics tutor. Mr. Sully. He taught me for about four years, everything from algebra to geometry and basic calculus. Then when my mother’s illness worsened, my father sent me to boarding school so I wouldn’t have to contend with her condition.”

“Did you have to put mathematics aside then?”

“On the contrary. It wasn’t part of the curriculum for girls, but again my grandmother insisted that the headmistress bring in a special tutor for me. My father paid an extra fee to ensure I had at least two sessions per week. Mr. Radbourne this time. He wasn’t as amiable as Mr. Sully, but he was brilliant. Neither one of them ever treated me as some sort of abomination. Without them—without my grandmother and my father—I never would have sought to explore my intellectual capabilities.”

“Did you continue studying with tutors after boarding school?”

“I went to Germany, actually, when I was fifteen.” Her chest tightened. She stared at the floor, at the intricate pattern spreading through the worn carpet. “Mr. Radbourne knew of a mathematician at the University of Leipzig. After I took several exams to prove my competence, he agreed to become my professor.”

“And your father allowed you to go?”

“He was reluctant at first, owing to the distance,” Lydia admitted. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the beat of her heart beneath layers of fabric. “But he agreed after my grandmother argued that it would be an unmatched opportunity for me. She accompanied me until she found a woman who served as a suitable chaperone.”

“Your grandmother knew you possessed an exceptional mind.”

“She did.” A sting of tears burned Lydia’s eyes so unexpectedly that she had to turn away. “Both she and my father did. Throughout my childhood, my grandmother was my greatest champion, my strongest supporter. And my father never tried to stifle my abilities.”

Silence filled the space behind her, though she felt Northwood’s disquiet, his sense that something was terribly wrong. She pressed her fingers against her eyes, swallowing old tears, fighting to keep the cloud at bay.

“What happened?” His voice was a low, quiet rumble.

She shook her head. Not even for him could she ever, ever answer that question.

“Lydia.”

Oh, God, he was closer. And that delicious, fluid sound of his deep voice speaking her name sent a wave of pleasure through her blood. He was right behind her. She knew if she took one step back, she would encounter the hard plane of his chest. Her fingers curled into her palms as she fought the urge to do just that.