A Study In Seduction(94)

Her fingers closed around a crumpled stack of letters, each marked with the same distinctive scrawl. Lydia’s vision lost focus; her head throbbed with a pain shot through with a dozen years of sorrow and regret.

She held up the letters. “Who delivered these to Jane?”

“Delivered?” Mrs. Boyd shook her head. “No one has delivered anything to Jane.”

Lydia’s grip tightened on the papers, crushing the edges into her palms as she read the topmost letter.


Dear Jane,

St. Martin’s Hall is easily accessible. I will arrange to be present at the time you suggested.

I request that you bring the document with you so that I might see it, as you seem to believe it most categorically concerns me.

Sincerely,

Joseph Cole


Lydia lifted her head to look at her grandmother. “Where did she and Mr. Hall go?” she whispered.

“To see the preparations for the educational exhibition.” Mrs. Boyd’s frown deepened like a gash carved into a cliff. “Jane told me earlier that she wished to go, and Mr. Hall kindly agreed to take her. I’ve tea arranged with Mrs. Keene or I would have accompanied them, but—”

Lydia broke from her helplessness like a stone released from a slingshot. She shoved the papers into her pocket, pushing past her grandmother in the doorway.

“Lydia!” Mrs. Boyd’s shout carried down the corridor as Lydia flew downstairs and out the front door.

She ran toward Baker Street and the cabstand, her grandmother’s shrill call drowned out by the fear screaming inside her head.





Chapter Twenty-Eight




Twilight blanketed Long Acre, the front entrance of St. Martin’s Hall concealed by a mass of traffic—pedestrians, carriages, carts, and wagons all swarming about like bees in a hive.

“Accident or something, miss,” the cabdriver called. “Can see it from up here, looks like a cart crashed into something. Can’t go much farther.”

With a curse, Lydia pushed open the door. She tossed two shillings up at the driver and darted past the people clustered around to gape at the accident, shoving her way through a group of constables. She pressed forward, inhaling sharply when she saw Sebastian hovering near the entrance to St. Martin’s Hall.

“Sebastian!”

He looked up, worry clearly etched into his features. “Lydia, what—”

“Jane.” Lydia came to a halt before him. “Where is Jane?”

“I don’t know. That’s just it. She was with me all afternoon, then went to look at a display while I helped Castleford at the Chinese exhibit. When I went to find her, she was gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

“I couldn’t find her. I thought she might have been with Castleford, but it appears he’s already left and none of the curators have seen her. I heard the commotion out here and thought she might have come to investigate, but there’s such a throng—”

“Keep looking,” Lydia ordered, heading for the front door. “Look in the classrooms and the library. Check the retiring room at the back as well.”

“But where—”

“I can’t explain now, Sebastian, please. We must find her!”

She ran into the entrance hall, her hard breaths echoing in the vast foyer. She hurried up the main staircase that led to the great hall, the length and breadth of which occupied the entire first floor.

Pushing through the doors, she went into the exhibition. Workers milled about the exhibition displays, the sounds of hammers ringing through the air even as people streamed toward the entrance to see the commotion on the street.

Lydia suppressed a fierce urge to scream Jane’s name. If she was still here, if Cole was with her… God only knew what he might do to the girl if he knew Lydia was looking for her.

A shadow passed above her, moving across the window. Lydia peered up at the empty gallery, unable to discern much of anything through the dusk. Her heart thundered in her ears as she crept up the stairs to where the glowing embers of a fireplace illuminated a section of the gallery.

Her vision blurred, then cleared to sharp precision. Jane sat in a chair near the fireplace, one arm cradled close to her chest and her body trembling.

Lydia choked back a cry, an immense wave of relief sweeping through her. She fought the urge to scream for help.

A movement caught the corner of her eye. In the instant before her brain registered what was happening, a male hand clamped around her wrist. Pain spiraled up her arm. Cole jerked Lydia forward, his granite features mapped in shadows from the dying fire.