A Study In Seduction

chapter Eight




Alexander paced to the hearth, then swiveled on his heel and went to the windows and back to the hearth. Sebastian hunched over the piano, pencil in hand, looking at a sheet of music as if it were an earwig.

After his third trek across the carpet, Alexander stopped. Through three layers of fabric, he felt the heavy weight of the locket pressing into his chest. He hadn’t looked at it closely for the past three weeks, had only dropped it into his pocket every morning for reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend.

He tugged it out now and stared at the silver surface, the intricate engraving.

“You wouldn’t have that grim look about you if you’d got rid of it,” Sebastian remarked.

Alexander shook his head and replaced the necklace. He’d told his brother the whole tale in the hopes of obtaining some words of wisdom. Instead, Sebastian had strongly advocated that he simply give the locket back to Lydia.

Alexander had been unable to explain why he knew she wouldn’t accept it.

“Her mother was mad,” he said.

“Mad?”

Alexander paced back to the windows. “It happened when Lydia was a child. Sir Henry was forced to institutionalize his wife several times. She died at a sanatorium in France after giving birth to Jane.”

“What has that got to do… Oh.”

Alexander’s shoulders tensed as he stared at the garden. “I assume it caused a stir at the time, though no one appears to remember. Or if they do, they don’t care. Perhaps that speaks to the Kellaways’ lack of importance.”

“Then you oughtn’t be concerned about gossip should you”—Sebastian cleared his throat—“pursue her.”

Pursue her. Alexander hadn’t told his brother that was exactly what he wanted to do. And despite his near-constant thoughts about Lydia, his determination to unravel her complexities, his memories of her soft mouth, Alexander hadn’t devised quite the right approach. He could pursue any other woman in the world with flattery and attentiveness, but those alone would not work with Lydia.

He had yet to determine what, exactly, would.

He sank into a chair and rubbed his forehead. A knock came at the door, and the butler stepped into the room.

“Pardon, my lord, but there’s a woman to see you.”

Alexander and Sebastian exchanged glances. “A woman?”

“Miss Lydia Kellaway.”

Sebastian laughed.

“Send her in, Soames,” Alexander said.

Soames nodded and slipped from the room. Alexander experienced a gleam of anticipation as they waited. He smoothed his hair away from his forehead. He straightened his collar. He brushed his hand against his breast pocket and allowed it to linger over the locket.

The door opened again. Soames stepped aside to let Lydia enter the drawing room. Both Alexander and Sebastian stood.

Alexander’s body tightened at the mere sight of the woman. God only knew how those severely cut dresses managed to give her such allure, but they did. This one fitted her form with such precision that once again he couldn’t help wondering what those rounded breasts would look like bare and quivering under his hands.

He grimaced and shifted, forcing away his lustful thoughts. “Miss Kellaway.”

“Lord Northwood.” Her gaze slanted to Sebastian. “And, Mr. Hall, a pleasure to see you again. Jane greatly enjoyed her first lesson.”

He smiled. “Pleased to hear that. She’s a lovely girl.”

Lydia returned his smile, her blue eyes bright. Alexander smothered an irritating surge of jealousy.

She looked at Alexander again. “Your footman told me you were here, my lord, if you’ve a moment?”

Alexander made a point of consulting the clock. “A moment, yes. Sebastian, go find out what time the Society meeting starts this afternoon.”

“Soames already—”

“Then ensure John knows to order the carriage.”

“But—”

Alexander turned on his brother. “Go do something.”

Sebastian gave Lydia Kellaway a charming grin before pushing himself away from the piano and strolling out the door as if walking through a meadow of wildflowers.

Alexander’s teeth came together as he gestured for Lydia to sit.

“I won’t stay long.” She shook her head, her blue eyes unnerving in their directness. “I have another proposition for you, Lord Northwood.”

His interest stirred. He moved closer to her, stopping when she was within arm’s reach. “And once again I find myself intrigued.”

She withdrew a piece of paper from her notebook and extended it to him. Alexander took it, glancing at her again before looking at the paper. Written in a neat, precise hand, the numbers and final question caused a wave of sheer puzzlement.

The sum of three numbers is 6, the sum of their squares is 8, and the sum of their cubes is 5. What is the sum of their fourth powers?

Alexander scratched his head. “Ah, would you care to explain? What is this?”

“A mathematical problem.”

“I can see that. Why have you given it to me?”

“I want you to solve it.” There was an amused glint in her eyes, a slight curve to her mouth—all evidence of a wicked side that Alexander hadn’t seen before now. “I believe my puzzle about the woman selling eggs was too simple for you. This one is more complex.”

Alexander stared at her. A weight seemed to descend on his heart at the realization she hadn’t sought him out just for him.

“You want me to solve this problem,” he said, “in exchange for the locket.”

“Yes. I don’t like to put all my eggs in one basket, you know.”

Alexander barked out a laugh. “I imagine you still wish to establish the parameters of a time frame.”

“Yes. If you are unable to solve the problem in two weeks’ time, with no help from anyone else, mind you, then you will promptly return my mother’s locket.”

Alexander continued staring at her. Her expression still contained that wicked gleam—quite appealing, if he were to be honest with himself, seeing as how it made her eyes darken to the color of a dawn sky—but other than that, she appeared utterly serious.

He looked at the problem again. “You wrote this?”

“You needn’t sneer, my lord. You know I enjoy devising puzzles, but the one you solved was just that—a puzzle. This is a problem.”

“And you don’t think I can solve it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Despite his irritation, Alexander experienced a prickle of anticipation again, a feeling aroused only by this particular woman. It was sharply pleasant, like the taste of Russian black bread, fragrant and tart.

“You implied it,” he said; “otherwise you wouldn’t have made the offer.”

“Yes, well…” Her lips curved—lovely, tempting; he wanted to put his mouth over hers and feel her yield…

“Perhaps implications aren’t so vague after all,” she said.

Alexander tossed the paper onto a table and planted his hands on his hips. Lydia Kellaway stood there looking like a little black rabbit in her charcoal dress, her blue eyes and flushed skin the only sources of color on her person.

For a fleeting, unexpected instant, he wondered what she’d look like in bright blue or green, ostrich plumes flowing from her hat, her cheeks and lips enticingly painted with rouge.

No. He didn’t like that image. At all.

He cleared his throat. “Miss Kellaway, it appears I’ve behaved unfairly with regard to your mother’s locket. And if you ever tell Sebastian I said that, I’ll deny it to the end of my days. However, you’ve made your desire for the locket quite clear, and as I’ve no wish to cause you further grief, I will return it to you immediately.”

A brief flicker of surprise crossed her face before her smile curved again. “You don’t think you can do it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You don’t think you can solve the problem.”

“I do not think that.”

“And I’ve no desire for pity, my lord.”

“I do not pity you,” Alexander snapped. “I’m trying to behave like a gentleman, which I don’t find an easy fit.”

“A gentleman conducts business in a fair and just manner.”

Alexander tried not to grind his teeth together. “Which I am attempting to do.”

“Returning my mother’s locket out of pity is neither fair nor just. However, if you wish to concede defeat, then I will gladly accept the mantle of victory and claim my winnings.”

Alexander stared at her. Then he crossed the room in three long strides and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her up against the wall so swiftly that she gasped. Without giving her an opportunity to resist, he lowered his head and captured her lush mouth, driven by a sudden burning intent to sear her with a kiss.

Her body stiffened beneath his grip, her hands fisting against his chest. He pressed harder, moving his mouth across hers, urging her to let him in. Heat swept through his blood, and though she began to soften, her closed lips did not yield, did not open for him.

A mathematical problem, for God’s sake. The only problem he wanted to solve was the soft, supple one currently in his arms.

Alexander growled with frustration. He pressed one hand against her lower back, pulling her as close as he could. His frustration mounted when his desire to feel her body was thwarted by a morass of skirts and petticoats. He darted his tongue out to lick the corner of her mouth, and when her lips parted on an indrawn breath, he delved inside with one heated stroke.

Ahhh.

A pure male satisfaction rose in him as he felt her surrender, the relaxing of her hands, the opening of her pliant lips. He cupped one hand around the back of her warm neck, angling her head for more thorough access.

Her hands spread over his chest, the warmth of her palms burning through his shirt. One of his fists clenched in her skirts as he fought the urge to drag all the damned layers up and feel her. To strip every blasted article of clothing from her and expose her sweet-scented skin and rounded breasts.

He groaned. He pressed his lower body against her, knowing she’d feel him if it weren’t for the barrier of her clothing. He grasped her wrist. Her pulse beat swift and hot beneath his fingertips as he dragged her hand down the front of his shirt lower… lower… lower…

He stopped. Used inhuman willpower to ease his hold. Waited with a thudding heart for her to pull away. She twisted her wrist from his grip, lifting her head to stare at him.

Seconds passed. Her breath steamed hot against his lips. Heat flared in her blue eyes. And then she splayed her hand flat against his belly and slid it down to his groin.

Alexander swallowed, his gaze locked to hers as her fingers brushed against the bulge in his trousers. A hint of trepidation appeared in her expression, but then her fingers curved with tentative curiosity until his erection pressed against her palm.

She sighed, her lips moving to his jaw, her cheek rubbing over his. He winced, desire churning through him. He placed a hand against the wall behind her in an effort to master his rapidly diminishing control.

Lydia paused, her breath still hot against his jaw. He grasped her wrist again. For an instant, neither of them moved, and then her hand slipped from him.

He stepped back, moving away to allow her to gather her composure while he did the same. He dug into his pocket and removed the necklace, turning back to extend it to her—and realizing his mistake too late.

She stared at the locket nestled in his palm, two spots of color high on her cheekbones. Alexander swallowed a rising tide of shame.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“I require no payment for services rendered,” Lydia said coldly.

“I didn’t mean—”

“You’ve made it quite clear what you mean. And I believe I’ve made my intentions equally clear. I will not accept your charity.”

His fingers tightened around the locket. “Your pride will be your downfall, Miss Kellaway.”

“Do you think so? Tell me, if you were in my position, would you take the locket back simply because I felt sorry for you?”

Alexander didn’t respond. He gave a curt nod and tossed the necklace onto the table beside the paper she’d given him. His shoulders felt stiff enough to break, his blood still flaring with desire unfulfilled.

“And should I solve your damned problem?” he asked through a clenched jaw.

“If you manage to do so by the end of two weeks, you may once again determine my debt.”

“And you will abide by it?”

For an instant, a glimmer of apprehension appeared in her eyes. “As long as it remains within reason.”

“Meaning?”

“No requests for a kiss or… anything else of that nature.”

“Very well.”

She blinked. “You agree?”

“Yes.” His mouth twisted. “You’re surprised?”

“Considering your—our—behavior of late, I suppose I am.”

“And disappointed?” He smiled without humor.

“Certainly not.”

“Good. There’s no need to be, you know.” He approached her again, his booted steps silent against the thick Aubusson carpet.

Lydia didn’t back away from him, but her wariness visibly deepened. “Why… why not?”

Alexander reached out to slide his thumb across her full lips, a renewed surge of arousal filling him at the sensation of her warm breath. “Because the next time we engage in something of that nature, debt will not be an issue.”

Lydia swallowed, her finger twisting around a lock of hair that clung to her damp neck. “There will not be a next time, my lord.”

“Oh, yes. There will. Not because you owe me, but because you want it.”

She swiveled on her heel and strode to the foyer. Alexander followed, ensuring she was safely in the cab before turning back to the drawing room.

He stopped. His father stood at the door of his study, his expression unreadable.

“Miss Kellaway, wasn’t it?” he asked.

Alexander nodded, not knowing what to say and not liking the feeling of having been caught doing something wrong.

Rushton’s gaze flicked to the drawing room and back to the front door before he turned and disappeared into his study.