A Study In Seduction(84)

A faint but palpable tendril of hope spiraled through her.

Was it possible? Could she have a blissful married life with Alexander? Could she be a good wife to him and still give Jane all she wanted? Could she continue her work without living in constant fear?

Could she be truly happy?

“Is it too late to agree to your other proposition?” She opened her eyes to find him still watching her. Her heart beat with nervous anticipation. She took a breath. “I’ll give a lecture for the exhibition. I’ll do it for you.”

Something dark flickered across his expression, a resurgence of his previous uncertainty. “I want you to do it for you.”

“All right.” She curled her hands around his in promise. “Perhaps I’ll even divulge my thoughts about love and differential equations, though at the risk of shocking my esteemed colleagues.”

“Your colleagues could stand a shock or two.”

Lydia smiled and pressed her lips against his. “Do I get my locket back now or after the lecture?”

“I don’t have it anymore.”

“Where is it?”

“I gave it to Jane.”

“What?” Lydia yanked her hands from his, shock freezing her blood. “When?”

“The day I went to speak to your grandmother.” Alexander frowned. “What’s the matter? You said it was to be hers.”

“One day, yes! Not now, not until…”

Her breath stopped. Anxiety cut into her. She pushed away from Alexander and fumbled for her clothes. Through her fear came a memory of Jane’s strange, distant behavior the night Lydia had told her about the potential marriage.

“Lydia?” He started toward her, concern etched on his forehead.

You’ll be glad to get rid of me…

She froze in the movement of fastening her corset. “Oh, God, Alexander. What have you done?”





Chapter Twenty-Four




Lydia hurried into the foyer of her grandmother’s town house. Her fear rustled harder, ominous, about to take wing. “Mrs. Driscoll!”

The housekeeper hurried from the kitchen. “Yes, miss?”

“Is Jane at home?”

“Yes, she and your grandmother just returned from Lady Montague’s tea. They’re in the schoolroom, I believe.”

Apprehension pounding in her blood, Lydia went into her father’s study. The copper box sat in its customary place beside the window, the tarnished metal glowing in a thin shaft of sunlight. She grabbed the box and shook it. Her heart plummeted when no thud of the envelope came from inside. She twisted the lock, but it was fixed shut.

Without thinking, she lifted the box above her head and slammed it hard against the edge of the windowsill.

From the foyer, Mrs. Driscoll let out a startled cry. Lydia fumbled with the lock, then angled it against the sill and brought it down again and again, so hard that dents appeared on the wood.

The lock broke. Lydia pushed the lid open. Though she already knew the contents were gone, a moan escaped her at the sight of the empty velvet interior. She dropped the box to the floor.

“Lydia!”

Her grandmother’s voice was sharp, heavy like an ax. Lydia began to shake. She forced her head up, watching her grandmother’s eyes sweep across the room, comprehending the implications of Lydia’s distress, the broken lock, the empty copper box.

Then… silence. A dry, parched cavern desperate to be filled.

“She… he gave her the locket… I’d hidden the key inside it months ago…”

The words flared and died in Lydia’s throat. She covered her face with trembling hands.

“Did… Has she said anything to you?” she asked her grandmother.

“No.” Mrs. Boyd glanced at the housekeeper, who hovered with anxious confusion in the background. “You may return to your duties, Mrs. Driscoll.”

“Yes, madam.” Mrs. Driscoll hurried from the room, closing the door behind her.

Lydia stared at the box as her grandmother’s shadow moved across it. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs.” Mrs. Boyd nudged open the box with the end of her cane. “Where is the paper?”

“She… she must have it.”

“If she’s told no one, we might still be able to rectify this.” Mrs. Boyd nodded to the door. “Go speak to her, Lydia.”