A Study In Seduction

by Rowan Nina

  “Where does the concern lie?”

  “The French commissioner to the exhibition, Monsieur Bonnart, has indicated there’s a growing anti-Russian sentiment among the French public. He does not wish his country’s involvement in the exhibition to indicate any contrary sympathies.”

  Alexander frowned. “This is not a Russian exhibition.”

  “I know, Northwood, but it’s the inclusion of the Russian section that is causing a bit of consternation. The French are giving quite a bit of financial assistance to the Society for this. Just don’t want any trouble, you know?”

  “I shouldn’t think there will be,” Alexander said. “Lord Hadley, tell the council members I will prepare a speech on the matter that will allay their concerns.”

  He gave a nod of dismissal and went to get a drink. He’d been aware of the growing anti-Russian sentiment over the course of the year, especially after the Russian navy obliterated a Turkish fleet last November. The event caused a wave of antipathy toward the czar and strengthened the push for a declaration of war, which appeared likely any moment now.

  Alexander swallowed some brandy, disliking the unease evoked by Hadley’s remarks. As vice president of the Society of Arts, he’d proposed this exhibition to celebrate the Society’s one hundredth anniversary, but he’d had an ulterior motive as well.

  The educational exhibition would focus on the positive aspects of British education and include international displays to promote the necessity of free trade between Great Britain and other countries. Yet the exhibition would also be Alexander’s triumph—a display of brilliant ideals that would reflect back onto him and thus remove shadows of scandal from the earldom.

  But if his ties to Russia were to be linked to the political climate… well, he refused to allow the council to use that against him or let it affect the exhibition. Not after all he’d done.

  He went to refill his glass but stopped, his gaze moving to where a handsome blond man stood speaking with Talia. Stiffness lined Talia’s posture, her entire body drawn back as the man stood too close.

  Alexander tensed and started forward, only to be stayed by a hand on his arm. Sebastian shook his head.

  The blond man grasped Talia’s arm. When he bent even closer to speak to her, she tried to pull away, her features tightening. Alexander shook off Sebastian’s hand and strode toward their sister.

  Before he reached her, a tall man with sun-streaked brown hair stopped beside Talia. With one movement, Lord Castleford gripped the blond man’s arm and twisted him away. He stepped between them, shielding Talia with his body. He muttered a few words that caused the younger man to hunch his shoulders and skulk away.

  In almost the same movement, Castleford pressed a hand to Talia’s lower back, guiding her onto the dance floor as the music began.

  Alexander glanced around, realizing Castleford had accomplished his mission with such stealth that no one except them had noticed the unpleasant little scene.

  “I saw him approaching,” Sebastian explained, “and he’s far more discreet than you would have been. Care to tell me again that I don’t give a whit for society’s opinion?”

  He arched an eyebrow and strode away. Alexander waited until the music stopped before approaching his friend and clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome back, you old bohemian. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Good to be back, North.”

  Alexander looked at his sister. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head, as if to indicate the incident with the other man was of no consequence.

  “How long were you gone this time?” Alexander asked Castleford.

  “Over a year, but I’m planning another excursion to Malay in the fall. Lady Talia tells me you’ve organized the Society of Arts’ educational exhibition?”

  “I have.”

  “Alexander, Lord Castleford would be a great help with the display focusing on Chinese education,” Talia said. “He traveled extensively in China, you know. He’s also agreed to help me rework my curriculum proposal for the ragged schools.”

  Alexander eyed his friend. “I’d no idea you were so interested in education, considering your penchant for playing cricket over studying.”

  Castleford grinned. “We can’t all be as industrious as you, North. You’ve still got your Eton Latin Grammar, haven’t you?”

  “And I consult it regularly,” Alexander replied. “I’d wager you couldn’t decline a noun to save your life.”

  “Salva animum tuum.”

  “Abi.”

  “Boys,” Talia said. Although her voice was stern, she looked amused for the first time that evening. “Pay attention. We’ve the children’s festival next weekend, Alexander, the one to benefit the ragged schools. I’ve invited Lord Castleford to attend, and I’d hoped you would as well.”

  “It’s on my calendar, yes.”

  Talia smiled. The expression almost startled Alexander. His sister hadn’t directed a smile at him in an age. It was as if a light had been lit inside her and shone onto him.

  “Lord Northwood?” A young woman in a green silk gown paused at the edge of their circle and looked up at him. Her lips curved with pleasure. “We were hoping you would be here tonight. We’ve heard so much about the exhibition.”

  “Miss Cooper. Allow me to introduce—”

  “Lord Castleford, yes, we’re acquainted.” Miss Cooper’s cool gaze passed over Castleford and came to rest on Talia. “And good evening to you, Lady Talia.”

  Talia gave the other woman a stiff nod. Castleford curled his hand around Talia’s elbow, murmured an excuse, and guided her toward the refreshment table.

  Alexander turned to Miss Cooper, who was looking at him with expectation. He swallowed a sigh.

  “How are your parents, Miss Cooper?” he asked.

  “Very well, thank you. Mother is leaving for a trip to Paris next week. She plans to visit a renowned modiste, having been recommended by her dear friend Lady Dubois. I do so wish I could accompany her, but I’ve already several social engagements here in London. Will you be attending Lady Whitmore’s ball?”

  “I’ve not yet decided,” Alexander replied. “Please convey my best regards to your parents.”

  He stepped back, intending the remark as a polite closure to the conversation, but Miss Cooper moved forward into the slight distance he’d created.

  “I do hope you’ll be there,” she continued. “And I believe Mother would like to invite you for tea one afternoon before her departure.”

  She blinked up at him. Alexander gave a half bow.

  “Thank you, Miss Cooper. I shall look forward to receiving the invitation. Do enjoy the remainder of the evening.” He walked away before she could respond and headed for the card room.

  Tension stiffened the back of his neck as he wove through the crowd. He ought to have asked Miss Cooper to dance. He ought to have asked her if he could fetch her a glass of champagne. He ought to have told her she looked beautiful. He ought to have bloody well flirted.

  A week ago, he might have.

  Before he’d met Lydia Kellaway.

  He stopped inside the card room. Crossing his arms, he drummed his fingers against his biceps. An image of Lydia appeared in his mind: flushed cheeks, angry eyes, and hot desperation.

  “She’s far prettier than Fulton’s sister.” Sebastian stopped beside him.

  “Of course she’s prettier than… Oh.” Alexander cleared his throat. “You mean Miss Cooper. Well, yes. She is.”

  Sebastian gave him a shrewd look. “Who else would I have been referring to?”

  “Any number of young chits, I’d imagine.” Alexander steeled himself against his brother’s curiosity. He’d told Sebastian about his encounter with Miss Kellaway, about the locket, but he hadn’t divulged his growing interest in the woman.

  “You ought to take up with one of them,” Sebastian continued. “Plenty around like Miss Cooper. Pretty and a bit idle headed. I assure you such women are a delight to keep compan
y with. Lady Welbourne’s niece is new to town, and word is she’s quite lovely. You ought to attend her ladyship’s dinner party tomorrow, make her niece’s acquaintance.”

  “I’ve other business to contend with tomorrow. A meeting with Father’s solicitors. Letters to dictate regarding Floreston Manor.”

  Sebastian was quiet for a moment, then moved in front of him. Alexander suppressed the urge to take a step back, to try to deflect whatever it was his brother intended to say.

  “Being the firstborn doesn’t mean you need surrender to duty, Alex,” Sebastian said. “It doesn’t mean you need to put responsibility above all.”

  Alexander looked past Sebastian’s shoulder to the numerous card games in progress.

  “If I do not,” he said, his voice stiff, “who will?”

  Sebastian didn’t respond. Alexander shifted his gaze to meet his brother’s eyes. They were both thinking of Rushton. Alexander smothered a rush of frustration directed at their father.

  “And you,” he continued, “are the one who suggested I marry. What other reason would I have if not for the future of the earldom? If not for duty?”

  Sebastian stepped back. An odd flash of disappointment crossed his features. “You could do so for you.”

  “Don’t be foolish.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Alex, duty doesn’t mean you need to be wound tighter than a clock.” Sebastian scrubbed a hand through his hair. “There’s no law against you having a good bit of fun. Why don’t you come with me to the Eagle Tavern later tonight?”

  Alexander hesitated, temptation warring with the ever-present fear of what people would say. He shook his head. Sebastian’s disappointment visibly deepened.

  “All right, then,” he said. “Do whatever makes you happy. Oh, no, you’ll never do that, will you? You’ll always do what you have to do instead.”

  Alexander watched his brother walk toward a card table. For all his efforts and work in recent years, Alexander wasn’t even certain what he truly wanted to do.

  He did, however, know what he did not want to do. He did not want to marry a woman like Miss Cooper whose life revolved around the latest fashions and social functions. He did not want to enter into a union reminiscent of his parents’ marriage, one of brittle formality and coldness. He did not want to be bored.

  Well. Perhaps he did know what he wanted to do, after all. He wanted to marry a woman who was interesting and clever. Who made his blood run quick and hot. Who challenged him and forced him to look beyond the boundaries of his own life. A woman whose beauty was only enhanced by the keen intelligence in her eyes.

  A woman who hadn’t been far from his thoughts since the day she walked into his life.

  A woman like Lydia Kellaway.

  Alexander watched Sebastian as his brother sat at a card table, laughing at something one of the other men said. Perhaps he ought to take his brother’s advice, see what happened.

  Alexander didn’t know what would come of pursuing Lydia Kellaway. He didn’t know if she would reject him. He didn’t know what his father would say. But he did know he would enjoy the pursuit immensely. And he dared to believe it might even make him happy.

  Chapter Six

  The sun burned low and bright in the sky, casting pale light onto the bare trees just beginning to bud with leaves. Street vendors selling flowers, oranges, penny pies, tarts, and hot green peas shouted out the quality and price of their wares. The calls of a fruit seller drew Lydia to a cart to purchase two apples.

  “We’ll also have an iced lemonade at the gardens,” she promised Jane as they continued down New Road for their Tuesday afternoon outing.

  “D’you think the hippopotamus will be out?” Jane asked. “And the orangutans?”

  “We’ll have to see. I hear they also have a new animal from Africa, though I can’t recall what it is.”

  She placed her hand on Jane’s shoulder to steer the girl away from a sleek black carriage that came to a halt near them. An old fear curled through her, and she quickened her pace without looking back.

  “Miss Kellaway.” The deep voice stopped Lydia in her tracks. She turned to look at the man who descended from the carriage.

  Lydia’s hand tightened on Jane’s shoulder. “Lord Northwood.”

  He approached, the sun shining on his dark hair like a halo, his black coat stretching across his broad shoulders and chest. Lydia almost felt the awe radiating from her sister as the viscount neared.

  “Good morning to you both.” He smiled at Jane. “You must be Miss Jane.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “This is Lord Northwood,” Lydia told her sister, though she knew she couldn’t even begin to explain how she’d made his acquaintance. She glanced at him.

  He was looking at her. With purpose. Her heart thumped.

  What do you see when you look at me, Lord Northwood?

  “What brings you here, my lord?” she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

  “I thought I might convince you to accept transport to whatever destination you intend.” He tilted his head toward his carriage.

  “Actually, we’re rather enjoying the walk, and—” Lydia paused when Jane tugged on her hand.

  She glanced at the girl, resignation sweeping through her when she saw the pleading look in Jane’s light green eyes. Neither of them had ever had the opportunity to ride in such a luxurious carriage.

  “We’re going to the zoological gardens,” Lydia said.

  “Excellent. If you don’t mind my companionship, I’d be delighted to accompany you. Can’t remember the last time I visited the zoological gardens. I suppose Drury Lane doesn’t qualify.”

  Jane giggled. “Can we, Lyddie? Please?”

  “Only if his lordship doesn’t consider it an inconvenience.”

  “I wouldn’t have offered if it was.” Lord Northwood opened the door and handed them both up into the velvet interior before issuing instructions to the driver and climbing in after them. The instant he sat opposite them, the space in the carriage seemed to shrink, making Lydia far more aware of his presence than she wished to be.

  “You’ve an interest in animals, Miss Jane?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. More insects than animals, though.”

  “Insects?”

  Jane nodded. “Our father used to take me to exhibitions of the Royal Entomological Society. The first was about butterflies; then we went to one on spiders and another on insects from North America. We even went to an exhibition of tamed fleas. You wouldn’t imagine fleas could be tamed, but they can, you know.”

  Northwood regarded her thoughtfully. “You might be interested in a section of a Society of Arts exhibition I’m organizing. We plan to have an extensive display of flora and fauna, including some new species of exotic insects.”

  “Can we go, Lydia?” Jane asked.

  “Of course. Perhaps you can write a report on the new discoveries.”

  Jane rolled her eyes at Lord Northwood, who grinned. “Never lets up, does she?” he asked.

  “Hardly. She’s been my tutor since I was little.” Jane’s expression closed off a bit. “But our grandmother says I need a broader education, so I’m to be sent away.”

  Lydia felt Northwood’s gaze settle on her, as tangible as the brush of his fingers. She shifted, pressing a hand to her abdomen as a twinge of pain went through her.

  “Sent away,” Northwood repeated. It wasn’t a question, but Jane nodded in response.

  “She thinks I need more instruction in… What was the word she used, Lyddie?”

  “Propriety.”

  Northwood smiled at the girl. “Propriety is overrated, if you ask me.”

  “Our grandmother thinks I need more of it.”

  “And you can’t provide that?” Northwood asked Lydia.

  “Jane is of an age when it’s necessary that she learn more about etiquette and social graces. So our grandmother is sending her to a school in Paris where she can learn French and take proper music and da
ncing lessons.”

  Northwood continued to look at Lydia as if he knew quite well that her grandmother’s dictate stung like nettles beneath her skin. As if he knew it was the source of her despair the night she had wanted to settle her debt. The night she had wanted to go nowhere else but to him.

  “London has no shortage of music and dancing teachers,” he said. “In fact, my brother Sebastian teaches the piano. I’d be pleased to introduce you to him next week, should you wish your sister to start lessons straightaway.”

  Lydia felt Jane tug on her arm, felt the plea radiating from her sister’s eyes.

  “Well, I… thank you, my lord.” Lydia chanced a look at Northwood. “Most generous. I will discuss it further with our grandmother.”

  Northwood and Jane exchanged glances. He winked, and she grinned in response.

  A tendril of unease curled through Lydia’s heart at the evident rapport between her sister and Northwood. She pushed it aside with ruthless determination. Nothing would ever come of her association with Lord Northwood, except perhaps piano lessons for Jane, so there was no need for further anxiety.

  They rode around the outer circle of Regent’s Park, the coach coming to a halt at the Carriage Drive entrance. Northwood descended to assist Lydia and Jane, then instructed the driver to see to the admission fees.

  They walked past the entrance lodge to the terrace walk that led into the lush landscape of the gardens and the new glass-roofed aviary. Flowers and trees bordered the walkway, which branched off into gravel paths leading to different animal enclosures and houses.

  Jane hurried ahead, her steps light.

  “She’s a lovely girl,” Northwood said as he and Lydia followed Jane toward the meadows where deer, pelicans, alpacas, and several gazelles grazed. Movable trellis houses dotted the grass, birds flitting around inside.

  “Yes, she is. She has a quick mind and a good heart.”

  “Like her sister.”

  Lydia couldn’t prevent a smile. How long had it been since someone complimented her, no matter the motive? “You’re a flatterer, my lord.”