A Study In Seduction(98)
The throng from outside mobbed the foyer and lower floor, though whether the confusion started inside or out, Alexander didn’t know. A man yelled for order. Women shrieked. Windows cracked under the impact of thrown objects.
Alexander pushed Lydia and Jane into a corner of the darkened gallery and prayed they would be safe. “Stay here. Do not move until I return.”
Outside, police and a detachment of infantry swarmed the street, trying to restore order. Alexander helped pull the wounded out of the way, bile rising in his throat at the sight of a bleeding man lying amid the rubble. He grasped the man beneath the arms and dragged him to an empty doorstep.
“All right?” he asked. He yanked off his cravat and pressed it to the wound on the man’s head.
The man nodded, his eyes glazed. Alexander yelled for a constable, then went back into the hall. Crowds of people surged through the displays and sent them crashing to the floor. Bird feathers floated in the air, musical instruments lay shattered, the model schoolhouses smashed. Alexander’s heart plummeted at the sight of the destruction.
He pushed through the crowd to the globe display, where two constables stood over Cole’s prone body. Bits of paper tore and glass crunched beneath Alexander’s feet. He turned away from the congealed blood.
He searched the broken glass, the splintered wood. His fist closed around a piece of paper stuck beneath a globe of the stars. He shoved it into his pocket, then ran back out into the street.
They sat in silence amid the chaos. Shouts and noise flew upward from the lower floor. Several people ran past in the gallery, but Lydia and Jane remained concealed in the shadows of the hearth.
Lydia clasped Jane to her chest, Jane’s arms wrapped around her neck. Her small body rippled with tremors.
Memories flashed through Lydia’s mind of holding Jane as an infant, a toddler. All those years of watching her daughter grow and learn—her first steps, first words, her endless curiosity. Cherishing Jane’s smiles and laughter. Loving every moment of time spent together.
She pressed her lips to Jane’s cheek. How she wished her own mother had experienced such joy. And perhaps… perhaps in those first five years of Lydia’s life, she had.
“I love you,” Lydia whispered. “Whatever happens, please know that. I have and will always love you more with every beat of my heart. You are everything to me.”
Her daughter didn’t respond. Instead she sought Lydia’s hand with her own and curled their fingers together.
Alexander wiped sweat and grime from his forehead with the back of his hand. Beside him, Sebastian hauled a woman away from the crowded street. Somehow his brother had found him, and they worked through the commotion together. They brought people back into the hall offices, yelled at others to get inside, lock the doors, close the shutters.
Over the course of several hours, the mob dispersed. Destruction lay in its wake—shards of glass and wood littered the streets, and broken wagons lay among scattered rubbish. Darkness fell in a heavy sheet as the noise began to settle.
Alexander dragged a hand down his scratched face. He and Sebastian returned to St. Martin’s Hall. Fear tightened his chest as he went up the stairs to collect Jane and Lydia. They still sat huddled together near the hearth, pale but appearing unharmed.
Relief and gratitude streamed through Alexander, banishing his fatigue. He hauled Jane into his arms. Sebastian extended a hand to help Lydia to her feet, and they went downstairs.
“Oh, Alexander.” Lydia’s whisper of dismay cut through him as she saw the disaster that had once been the exhibition.
Outside, people still milled around the street, but the police had restored order and blocked off the entrance to the hall. Still holding Jane with one arm, Alexander pulled Lydia to him with the other. The tightness in his chest eased a little as her body pressed against his side.
“Lord Northwood.” Sir George Cooke of the Society council strode toward him, his expression grim. “The police inspector is heading to Mount Street now. You’d best meet him there. Hadley is on his way as well.”
With Sir George accompanying them, they returned to Alexander’s town house, where the servants rose in a bustle of activity. A doctor was summoned, warm water and clean clothes procured, tea and brandy offered. Lydia sent Jane upstairs with the housekeeper to look after her and wait for the doctor.
“Preliminary reports, Lord Northwood, indicate that you are responsible for causing the riot.” Police Inspector Denison peered at Alexander with a faint air of sympathy.