A Study In Seduction (26 page)

“Our finances are in a state of decline,” she said, her voice unwavering and her gaze steady. As if she had rehearsed this speech. “They have been for some time. My grandmother insisted on very costly treatments for my mother, private practitioners, trips to spas and institutions throughout Europe. The charges drained my father’s funds.”

She took a breath and continued. “My mathematics career has not been lucrative in terms of income. And my grandmother’s husband left her with little. So in recent years we have existed in a state of flux with regard to our finances. Lately, the situation has been deteriorating.”

Alexander frowned. “And that is why you refused my proposal?”

“Yes.”

“That makes no sense.”

“My lord, you have proven yourself to be a man of… of generous spirit, and I knew that if we married, I would have to reveal our financial difficulties. Just as I knew you would offer whatever assistance you could. And I… I did not wish for you to think I was marrying you for your money. That is why I declined your initial proposal.”

She paused, lifting her chin, a faint relief appearing in her eyes as if convinced her explanation was more than adequate.

For Alexander, however, it was not even passable. His brain worked to recall their conversation on the terrace at Floreston Manor.

“Then why did you tell me you would never marry
anyone
?” he asked.

“Because my grandmother would not allow a union in which my family did not gain financially,” Lydia said. “And I did not wish to impose upon any man in such a manner.”

“So what has changed now?”

“As I said, I accept your proposal so that we both might avoid scandal. And I must rely on your… belief in me when I tell you that my acceptance is quite honestly
not
an effort to better my family’s financial situation or social ranking.”

“Though both of those will be an inevitable consequence of our union.”

“And welcomed by my grandmother, I must confess.”

“But not by you.”

She didn’t respond. Apprehension plagued Alexander. Lydia’s reasoning made intellectual sense—he knew well that her pride would never allow her to reveal her family’s
weakness—but there was more to it. Something that festered behind her discourse and explanations. Something she wasn’t telling him.

He pushed against the door away from her, putting half the room’s length between them—though for her sake or his own, he didn’t know. After dragging a hand through his hair, he turned back to face her.

She hadn’t moved, a rigid, quiet bird with eyes that flashed all the colors of the sea, a mind as complex as celestial navigation, and an unbridled sensuality that would make him ache with desire for the rest of his life.

“Very well,” he said. “We will be married before the month is over.”

“You’ve made a good match.”

Alexander turned to find Talia beside him, looking like a combination of sea and sky in a dark blue dress with pearls woven through her hair. He searched her face for some hint of irony, of smugness, but there was only approval. Acceptance.

He followed her gaze to where Lydia sat with Jane at a table beside the window. Jane was poring over the eight-volume collection of John Curtis’s
British Entomology
he’d given her as a gift after the announcement of the engagement.

“Not a match I expected when I first met her,” he admitted.

“But one you wanted.” It was a statement, not a question. “Sebastian likes her a great deal. So does Papa. I know Darius and Nicholas will too.”

“And you?” Alexander asked.

Talia was quiet for a moment, and in that space of time,
a burn of fear lit in Alexander. Her response meant more than he’d anticipated.

“I would wish no other woman for you.” Talia rested her hand on his arm. “You could not do better than Lydia. I know our mother would agree.”

An image of Lady Rushton appeared in Alexander’s mind, followed by a wave of sorrow beneath his heart that almost undid him. He’d spent so long being angry with his mother that he hadn’t realized her desertion and his parents’ divorce had caused him deep sadness. This grief, the sense of loss, must be what made Talia hurt so deeply. What made her so brittle.

He turned to his sister, but she moved away, ducking her head as she hurried back to Rushton’s side. Alexander turned his gaze to Lydia.

Although unease still simmered in him over Lydia’s reason for changing her mind, and although her acceptance hadn’t been as he would have wished, he was thankful for it. He wanted to marry her. He knew to his soul they were well matched, knew he would always treasure her intelligent, considerate presence, knew she would enhance the respectability of his family. He knew he would always love her.

He set his glass down and went toward Lydia and Jane, expecting conversation to hum between the two sisters.

Instead, he was met with silence. Jane stared intently at the engraving of a beetle, while Lydia stared at Jane as if she were trying to figure out an equation. Alexander paused, unaccustomed to tension between the two sisters.

Jane looked up from her book and gave Alexander a smile. “I can’t thank you enough, sir. I never thought I’d own such a collection.”

“It was Lydia’s idea,” Alexander said. “I wanted to get you something you could use, and she suggested the books. You are one of the few people I know who will use them for their intended purpose rather than to fill a bookshelf.”

Jane glanced at her sister. Lydia reached out to squeeze Jane’s shoulder before standing. Without making an excuse, she headed to where Talia and Rushton stood.

Alexander nodded toward the open book. “The only condition attached to the gift is that you study the books well.”

“Oh, I will,” Jane assured him. “I’ve only seen part of the volume on
Lepidoptera
, but nothing of the others.”

Alexander looked at her for a moment, then placed his hand on the table and bent to her level.

“You’ve no idea how much you have to offer the world, Jane. Never doubt that. Never doubt yourself.”

To his surprise, a veil of tears shimmered in her eyes. His stomach knotted at the sight of her distress, at the memory of her reaction to the idea of his marrying Lydia.

Jane blinked rapidly to banish her tears and gave a quick nod. “Yes, sir.”

Alexander stepped away, then stopped when Jane spoke his name.

“Lord Northwood?”

“Yes?”

“What about Lydia? Will she still… being Lady Northwood and all, will she still be able to study mathematics and write papers? To work at the ragged schools?”

“Yes, of course. I never intended to prevent her from continuing her studies. Did you imagine I would?”

“No, sir.” She looked back at the beetle engraving.
“That is, I’d hoped you wouldn’t. She needs her work like she needs air.”

Alexander didn’t know what to say. The edge of bitterness to Jane’s voice confused him, augmenting the sadness in her eyes. An uncomfortable emotion reawakened in him, one he hadn’t felt since Talia was a child. The sense that the girl expected something from him, and he had no idea what it was.

“You know your sister well,” he finally said.

Jane turned the page of the book. “No, sir. I don’t really know her at all.”

S
ilence filled the drawing room of Alexander’s town house, the scents of coffee and fresh-baked cake still lingering in the air. Lydia sat by the fire, paging through a book of puzzles.

She turned at the sound of the door opening. Her heartbeat increased as she watched Alexander cross the room to her. He paused beside her chair, warmth radiating from his body, his intent as clear as if he’d spoken the words aloud.

“Is it wicked if we’re engaged?” She shivered as his big, warm hand came to rest on the back of her neck.

“Most definitely.” His voice was low and husky against her ear. “Let’s start a wealth of rumors about our depraved erotic activities.”

Arousal bloomed through her. She stared down at the book. After the betrothal party, her grandmother and Jane had left for one of Jane’s dance lessons, and she and Alexander finished a game of cards with Talia, Rushton,
and Sebastian, who’d also left. A bit pointedly, Lydia thought.

Not that she minded.

She ought to go as well.

Her fingers tightened on the book. “Alexander, I… I have work to do.”

“Mmm. So do I.”

“I’ve got to submit my paper before the end of… oh…”

His lips touched the back of her neck. “A paper on how to quantify love?”

“No, I’m explaining a method of representing curves.”

“You already do that most successfully.” He cupped her breasts, then moved his hands up and began removing the pins from her hair.

“Alexander, I—”

“Go on, then.” He continued to unpin her chignon, dropping the pins to the floor and easing his fingers through the long strands of her hair. Pleasure skimmed down her spine.

“Explain your method,” Alexander said.

“Well, it’s called tangential polar coordinates, which differ from a system of ordinary polar coordinates where the position… Oh.”

He captured her earlobe between his teeth. His warm breath brushed her neck. He slid his fingers against the back of her head, rubbing slowly. She melted under the exquisite sensations.

“Alexander, I really ought to—”

“No. You ought to do nothing.” He took the book from her, then turned her to face him. A dark gleam appeared in his eyes, making her heart skip. “Except come to me with both abandon and unrestrained enthusiasm.”

Lydia almost gasped as her blood went into full boil. She didn’t have even a second to respond as Alexander wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her against him for a kiss so heated and thorough that she lost the ability to think.

“So?” he said as he led her up to his bedchamber. “Ordinary polar coordinates?”

“You were listening?”

“And finding it rather arousing.”

Lydia laughed. “Lord Northwood, I’d no idea you were stimulated by my theories.”

“I’m stimulated by everything about you, especially your theories.”

Lydia slipped her hand over his shirt to cup the evidence of his arousal. “Well, in this theory, the pole is a point that determines a certain position—”

“Fascinating.” He lowered his lips to her neck, his hands moving to fumble with the clips binding her hair. “Take off your clothing.”

Instead she worked the buttons on his trousers. “And a given line through the pole is the prime radius…”

“What about the curves?”

“They’re the locus of an assemblage of points—”

“Take
off
your clothing.”

Lydia smiled. After shedding her clothing and corset, she stepped into his arms. Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek to his shirtfront and breathed him in. The tension dissipated from his body as heat swept over them. She sank into his touch, into the heat of his body. Her thin cotton chemise allowed her to feel every inch of his hard frame, the delicious crush of her breasts against him.

He pulled back to look at her, reaching to brush her
hair away from her forehead. Something flashed in his eyes—questions, uncertainty, doubt—that made Lydia’s heart quiver.

“I love you,” she whispered. She touched his roughened cheek and slid her hand around to the back of his neck. “Please believe that. I love you.”

She drew him down and locked her lips to his. In this, at least, she could be honest. She could love him with every inch of her body in the full knowledge that there was no deception in her overwhelming desire for him.

He grasped her chemise, pulling it upward until the heat from the fire stroked her bare bottom. With a whispered oath, his fingers smoothed and kneaded her taut flesh, moving lower to part her thighs. A fierce shudder tore through her.

He gave a hoarse laugh, his hips pressing against her belly. Lydia sighed, sliding her lips down his rough throat, flicking her tongue out to taste the delicious hollow where his pulse throbbed. She wanted to dissolve into him, to feel the heat of his body merge with hers, his heart pounding against her breasts.

Her fingers trembled as she unfastened his shirt, baring his chest to her questing hands. She loved all the different textures of him, the combination of coarse hair and smooth, muscled skin, the hard ridges of his abdomen.

“Sit down,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened to the color of ink. After divesting himself of his trousers, he sat naked in a chair beside the fire. The firelight caressed his body like a lover—long, sweeping shadows that intensified the hot desire in his eyes and bronzed his taut skin.

Lydia’s breath caught as she looked at him, and a tight
pain began to coil around her heart. A chill skimmed over her, causing her skin to prickle with gooseflesh. A moan escaped her dry throat as she went down on her knees in front of him, her hands settling on his thighs. He speared a hand through her tangle of long hair, drawing her toward him with an insistence both firm and gentle.

Lydia closed her eyes. Alexander’s grip tightened on her hair, his thighs tensing beneath her hands as she drew in the length of him. The taste of him spread into her blood.

A log split in the fire, casting a shower of sparks onto the marble hearth, flames catching the fresh wood and escalating higher. Heat spilled against Lydia’s skin. She clenched her thighs together to stem the rising wave of need.

“All the way.” Alexander drove his other hand into her hair. His voice grew hoarse with urgency. “Take it in all the way.”

The rough command elicited a thrill of excitement. Perspiration broke across her flesh. The glide of Alexander in and out of her mouth, the tightening of his fingers against her head, the sounds of his ragged breath, heightened her stimulation to immeasurable peaks.

Her hands skimmed up his thighs and smoothed over his flat belly before she eased back and released him from her mouth. A gasp escaped her lips as she met his hot gaze, her chest heaving and her body so aroused she feared she might come apart with one flick of his finger. Bracing herself on his knees, she rose and grasped the folds of her chemise. In one movement she pulled it over her head and bared herself to him.