At least two of them puffed out their chests in warning.
“Lydia.” Her name was an entreaty. “Please.”
Although her resolve was beginning to crack, she tried to muster the courage to withstand him. To withstand her own overwhelming desire to surrender.
“I’ve no idea why you need to speak with me alone, Lord Northwood,” she replied, surprising even herself with a tone that would have chilled a penguin. “You indicated quite clearly to the entire assembly that you’ve no wish to continue your work with the Society or fight to restore honor to your name, which we”—she indicated her colleagues—“worked for several hours to help you do. Lord Perry even canceled a lecture so that he could meet with us at Dr. Sigley’s office to formulate our evidence.”
Beside her, Lord Perry made a noise of agreement, narrowing his eyes at Alexander.
“I don’t—,” Alexander began.
“Moreover,” Lydia continued, pulling her satchel in front of her like a shield, “since you’ve made plans to return to Russia, there is no further reason for us to—”
“Lydia, be quiet, for pity’s sake,” Alexander snapped. “I did not say I wished to return to Russia alone.”
She blinked, her heart stilling for an instant. “Well, what else—”
“I did not say that because I don’t intend to.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” He took another breath. “I want you and Jane to come with me.”
Lydia gasped. She took a step back as if to evade the desperate hope in Alexander’s words, the hope that slipped into her blood and warmed her to the core. The mathematicians shifted and muttered. She took another step back and bumped into Dr. Grant.
Alexander did not take his gaze from her face. Lydia pressed a hand to her chest, the wild beat of her heart thumping against her palm, traveling the length of her arm. She turned to her colleagues.
“Er… excuse me, gentlemen, please. Alexander?”
Her mind whirling, she led him to a spot beside the staircase. She closed her eyes, drawing in a breath and blocking out the images, the promise, his words evoked. Then she turned and gave him a mutinous glare, slapping him hard on the arm.
“What are you going on about, you foolish man?”
Alexander rubbed his arm, amusement flashing beneath his desperation. “I’m going on about our future. I want you and Jane to come and live in St. Petersburg with me.”
“Are you mad?” Why would her heart not still at those words, at the expectation in his beautiful eyes? Why was hope coursing like brilliant light through her blood? “I can’t live with you in Russia.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t marry you, Alexander!” Speaking the words aloud diminished the gleaming emotions that had begun to shine through her resolve. She sobered. “Haven’t we been over this time and again? Nothing has changed.”
“Why did you bring your troupe of geniuses to the meeting, then?”
She stared at him, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for detachment. “I knew they could assist me with proving your—”
“No. Why did you bring them? Why did you want to see me absolved?”
“I didn’t want you to be blamed for something that wasn’t your fault,” she replied. “I know how hard you’ve worked. You don’t deserve to have it all cast aside because you tried to save Jane and me.”
“So you felt you owed me?”
“Well, in a sense, yes, but—”
“Why else did you do it, Lydia?”
Lydia let out an exasperated sigh and stared past his shoulder at the opposite wall. What did it matter if he knew the truth? It changed nothing. Why not allow him to leave with at least the memory of what they meant to each other, even if a future together could never be? Especially since that future could never be.
“Lydia.”
“Oh, all right,” she snapped, swinging her gaze to his. “I still love you, Alexander. I wanted to help you because I still love you and I couldn’t stand the thought of those men belittling your character in front of such a large audience, and you there with no one to defend you. All right? I’ve said it. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Most definitely.”
He gave her a wide grin, his happiness searing her with a love so potent it nearly took her breath away. Hope brighter than the sun glowed in Alexander’s eyes. He gripped her hands as if restraining himself from pulling her into his arms.
Lydia tightened her hands on his in return, loving the sensation of their fingers clasped together, his big hands engulfing hers. Yet she was unable to prevent sadness from