“I’ve heard of them, but I don’t know their intent.”
“The schools attempt to reclaim children from the streets,” Northwood explained. “Their students come from impoverished families whose fathers are either in prison or committing crimes that will eventually land them there. It’s a cause that’s very dear to Talia.”
“It sounds like a worthy cause, indeed.”
“It is. Talia and several of her friends have arranged a charity event on Saturday next. It’s a children’s festival with games and such, all to benefit the schools. I’d be obliged if you would attend.”
Anxiety began to simmer inside Lydia. “Oh, I don’t know if—”
“I’m certain your sister would enjoy it,” Northwood said. “I believe there’s also kite flying, dancing, wagon rides. Talia has spent several months helping organize it. She’s even talked Sebastian into playing the piano.” Before she could protest, he added, “I’ll have my carriage pick you up at eleven. I’ll return you home whenever you like. Really, you might even enjoy it yourself.”
Lydia chewed on her lip for a moment. She glanced at her sister, who was walking ahead of them toward the animals’ enclosures, then nodded. “I would enjoy it, my lord, and I know Jane would too. We don’t often attend such events.”
She realized the impact of her hasty comment when Northwood frowned.
“Why not?” he asked.
“I just don’t… I haven’t got a great deal of time for such things.” Never did. Pain sliced through her chest as she recalled her own dark childhood, where frivolities like festivals and kite flying didn’t exist.
She knew Jane’s childhood had been nothing like hers—she’d seen to that—but she also hadn’t actively sought many amusements for her sister.
“Because you’re too busy with your equations?” Northwood asked.
The edge to his voice cut her a little, and she looked away. “I’m not made of numbers, Lord Northwood.”
“Then why do you foster such notions?”
“What does that mean?”
“You want people to believe you’re made of nothing more than mathematical brilliance.”
“I do not—”
“Don’t you? Less than a fortnight ago, you attempted to tell me what I believe about you.”
“Quite frankly, that is what everyone believes about me.”
“I don’t.”
Startled, she looked up at him. “You don’t?”
“No. It isn’t true. Your destiny is not one of cold intellect. And I do not for an instant believe you are happy with only textbooks and numbers as your companions.”
Lydia swallowed. He was gazing at her with more than curiosity, more than puzzlement. He looked as if he knew that beneath her thick shield lay something vulnerable and painfully tender. Something he was more than capable of protecting.
“Why would you believe such a thing?” Her voice shook.
He stepped closer. So close that the cool air began to heat around them, so close that she felt the intent radiating from his body. His voice dropped lower, sliding like a caress against her skin.
“If you were content with such a life, you would not have kissed me, touched me, as if you longed for more,” he murmured.
Her face burned. “I exhibited an appalling lack of judgment.”
“You exhibited what you felt. What you want.”
“I’ve told you what I want. And that was not it.”
You are not it.
She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, knowing they would be a lie to the tenth power. Her shoulders tensed as she stepped away from him.
“You may think what you wish of me, my lord. I only ask that you remember one thing. I said it would be for the best if you believed what I told you, if you left me to a destiny of intellectual solitude. Anything else would most certainly be for the worse.”
She turned away from him. He grasped her arm, his fingers tightening with a possession that caused her heart to jolt.
“Nothing between us will ever be for the worse, Miss Kellaway.” He spoke with absolute certainty. “Nothing.”
“Shorten your statement, my lord, and you’ll have the truth.” She pulled her arm from his grip. “Nothing between us will ever be.”
“You’re wrong.”
Her throat tightened. How she wished she could be wrong. How she wished she could unlock the closed part of herself and let him in. The more time she spent in his presence, the more she imagined how glorious it would be to discover the potential of what they could be together.
Even if it were for only one night.
Shaken by the thought, Lydia turned away. Without looking at the viscount, she went toward her sister. “Jane!”
Jane waved her hand to urge Lydia closer. Lydia quickened her pace, hoping