A Study In Seduction(73)
“Yes, and… and we do hope that you will make yourself more… er, available to us in the future.” Perry gave an awkward little bow before he and Sigley moved off toward the display of mathematical instruments.
“What symposium?” Alexander asked.
“Oh.” Lydia waved a hand in dismissal as they left the great hall and went to an office at the back of the building. “One focusing on recent studies in mathematics. I received an invitation last month and accepted. I haven’t been to a symposium in an age, and I thought I might like to hear the latest theories.”
After picking up several books from the desk, she started to walk back to the corridor. He stepped in front of her and closed the door.
Lydia stopped. “Alexander?”
“Why haven’t you attended symposiums and such recently?” he asked.
“I don’t—”
“And why did both those men know you’d rather avoid recognition?”
“I just have something of a reputation for preferring to conduct my work in private. It doesn’t mean anything, Alexander. It’s just the way I am. How I’ve always been.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why is it that you, a woman with a mind even Euclid himself would admire, are so determined to be anonymous?” Frustration flashed through him at the notion that her talents had been muted… and he’d no idea why. “And don’t use Jane as an excuse. Why did you spend so many years pursuing mathematics if you intended to stop using your talents?”
Lydia pressed her lips together, a mixture of irritation and sadness flaring in her eyes. “I never intended to stop using my talents. Where mathematics is concerned, I’ve always wanted to contribute to its body of knowledge, to see my work published and debated, to write books, to study identities and equations. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“Prove it.”
“What?”
Alexander stepped closer, the urge inside him intensifying. He hated it, hated the idea that his brilliant, stunning Lydia had been locking herself away for years upon years, that she had been alone with her own thoughts, closed off from a community of academics who wanted her theories, her ideas, her intelligence.
“Deliver a talk for the educational exhibition lecture series,” Alexander said. “The topic will be your choice. Practical instruction in schools, use of the abacus, mathematics and science… I don’t care. Whatever you want. Whenever you want. But do it.”
She was so still that even the air around her seemed to stop moving. She clasped her hands in front of her, her blue eyes guarded.
“I—”
“Deliver a lecture,” Alexander interrupted, “and you will finally have the locket back.”
A smile ghosted her lips. “Another wager?”
“Not a wager. An agreement. The payment for your locket is one lecture. My final offer.”
“Alexander, I—”
“No.” He took two steps toward her and grasped her shoulders. “Do not tell me you can’t. That will be a lie. And we have no place for lies.”
To his shock, a flood of sudden tears swamped her eyes as her fingers curled around his arms. He loosened his grip on her, prepared to step back, but her hold on him tightened.
“Wait.” She swiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “Wait. Alexander, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“You needn’t be sorry, Lydia. You need only do what you were put on this earth to do.”
“You… you believe that?”
“Of course I believe it. You were meant to impart knowledge, Lydia. It’s why you were granted such intelligence.” His mouth twisted. “Though you might have suffered a lapse in said intelligence when you rejected my proposal.”
Lydia gave a watery laugh, but the sound was hollow. She moved closer to him, her grasp so tight that the warmth of her fingers, her palms, burned through his coat and shirt.
“I’m sorry, Alexander. Please believe it’s not… I didn’t decline because I don’t love you.”
Alexander’s breath stopped. He stared at Lydia, her blue eyes clear and direct, her cheeks flushed, the ends of her eyelashes still damp. His heart thumped, an odd, discordant beat that resonated with everything Lydia—her maddening, luscious presence in his life, her naked abandon, her crisp, fresh-pencil scent.