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