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 dancing 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.”
“I never say anything I don’t mean.”
Lydia paused, bringing him to a halt beside her. As much as she enjoyed his company, the oddness of the situation—the sheer improbability of running into him and the even greater unlikelihood that he would actually want to visit the zoological gardens—struck her hard.
She leveled her gaze on him. “Why are you really here, my lord?”
“My sister Talia—you, ah, encountered her the other night—does quite a bit of work with the ragged schools.”
Lydia blinked at the non sequitur. “Oh. That’s good of