A Study In Seduction(8)

Emotions were one thing. Sensations were something else entirely. A memory tried to fight its way to the surface—the memory of how it had once felt to be wild, naked, and unfettered.

She remembered that it had felt astonishing. That all those years ago she’d felt free for the first time in her life—until she learned that the price for indulgence was one no person should have to pay.

… governed by the variables assigned to each lover…

She would never be able to assign a variable to the sensations that still bloomed through her body after her encounter with Lord Northwood.

Every thump of her heart resounded through her, the slow unwinding of something sweet and rich. Her breasts felt full, heavy, her skin stretched tight over her body, her thighs tense with anticipation.

She closed her eyes. Shame trickled beneath her skin, smothering some of her lingering desire for a man she hardly knew. A man she could never have. Should never want.

Three, four, five: the first Pythagorean triple.

Her heartbeat slowed, her breath stabilizing into a smooth, even rhythm. The unnerving sensations of the previous night began to sink beneath the precise form of a perfectly constructed right triangle.

“You’re up early.”

Lydia’s eyes flew open. Charlotte Boyd stood in the doorway of the study, her hand clenched around her cane. Her white skin was creased with only scant evidence of her age, and her fine features retained vestiges of youthful beauty.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Lydia pushed her hair away from her forehead, hoping her expression bore no evidence of her thoughts. “Mrs. Driscoll said breakfast will be ready in a half hour.”

Mrs. Boyd settled into the opposite chair, her blue eyes sharp. “You’re not still upset about the locket, are you?”

Lydia suppressed a rustle of irritation. “Of course I am.”

“For heaven’s sake, Lydia, I told you to forget the locket. It is a foolish, sentimental thing, and neither you nor Jane should attach any meaning to it except for its value. Mr. Havers gave us quite a bit for it.”

“It belonged to my mother,” Lydia said, stung by her grandmother’s dismissive words. “Surely you understand why that’s important to me. Why it’s important to Jane. Papa would never have wanted it sold.”

“Your parents would have been far more supportive of Jane attending a proper school than they would about keeping a piece of jewelry.” Mrs. Boyd frowned. “I’d hope you would be as well.”

“You didn’t need to pawn the locket to send Jane to school,” Lydia muttered.

“You know how expensive Queen’s Bridge is, Lydia. We need to procure all possible funds for her initial enrollment. And we do not need an old locket.”

I do.

Lydia’s hands flexed, her chest tightening as she looked at her grandmother. Now was not the time to fight about Jane’s schooling. Lydia had other matters on her mind. “I learned the locket was purchased by Alexander Hall. Lord Northwood.”

Mrs. Boyd stared at her with pursed lips, a faintly perplexed expression in her eyes.

“Viscount Northwood? You must be joking.”

“I’m not. He bought the locket from Mr. Havers. He said he thought it was interesting.”

“You spoke to him?”

“I went to his house yesterday evening. I asked him to return the locket.”

Mrs. Boyd’s eyes widened. “You went to Lord North—”

Lydia held up a hand to stop the imminent scolding. “Before you chastise me, no one saw me, no one heard. I was careful.”

“Really, Lydia, there’s nothing careful about meeting a man like that in private! Have you learned nothing over the years? What on earth is the matter with you?”

“You should have known I’d never let that locket go,” Lydia said. “Especially after Papa died.”

“You’ve not even looked at it in ages!” In her agitation, Mrs. Boyd rose and began to pace, leaning heavily on her cane. “Honestly, Lydia, now Lord Northwood knows we visited a pawnshop and that we… Oh heavens, what if this becomes known?”

“He won’t tell anyone.”

“How on earth do you know?”

She didn’t. And yet, somehow, she did. “He’s not a gossip. He would not deliberately besmirch another person’s reputation.”

“You’re so certain of that?”

“Would you do such a thing?”