meeting with the editorial board of some mathematical journal, but she ought to have been finished by now.
Alexander paced several more steps before the door opened and Lydia stepped onto the street, followed by a half dozen men.
“He is the Hollis professor of mathematics and natural philosophy at Harvard University,” one of them grumbled.
“That doesn’t mean he applied the method correctly, Dr. Grant,” Lydia replied, adjusting her hat against the sun. “I’ll write the letter of amendment this week and present it at our next meeting.”
“He won’t take kindly to that,” Grant muttered.
“Better we ask him for a revision than publish a flawed paper,” another portly man remarked. “Miss Kellaway is correct about the application. I suggest we allow her to see this matter through.”
“Agreed,” a third man said. “We’ve also your paper on our next agenda, Miss Kellaway. If you could send it along in advance, that will give us time to review it prior to discussion. It’s the Euler equation paper, correct?”
Lydia nodded, and the little group commenced a discussion of Euler—a Swiss mathematician whose work involved calculus and graphing. Alexander waited a few more minutes before clearing his throat. Loudly.
They all looked up. Lydia blinked.
“Lord Northwood?”
“Your grandmother told me where to find you, Miss Kellaway,” he said. “She anticipated your meeting would be concluded by now.”
“Well, yes, we’ve just finished.” Lydia gestured to the men, who had clustered in a half-circle stronghold behind her. “These are my colleagues on the editorial board.”
She stepped aside to make introductions. Alexander greeted the other men, aware that they were eyeing him with suspicion.
“What are you doing here, my lord?” Lydia asked.
“I’m going to oversee the exhibition preparations at St. Martin’s Hall and thought you might like to accompany me.”
“The Society of Arts exhibition, my lord?” Dr. Grant asked, stepping forward. “Haven’t you got a number of mathematical instruments on display?” He glanced at the others. “Lord Perry is on the consulting committee, you know, and he said it’s quite an impressive array of items they’ve got. Yes, indeed, let’s all go and see how things are progressing.”
The other mathematicians murmured their agreement. Alexander frowned.
“Will it be all right, my lord?” Lydia asked, a glimmer of amusement shining in her blue eyes.
“Er… certainly.” He nodded toward the group. “Gentlemen, I welcome your thoughts and opinions.”
A bustle of activity ensued as Drs. Grant and Brown announced they would ride with Lydia in Alexander’s carriage while the others procured a second cab.
Alexander tucked a hand beneath Lydia’s elbow to help her into the carriage. A rigid shock coursed through her, stiffening her body.
“Miss Kellaway?”
The color drained from her skin, and unmistakable fear flashed across her face. Alexander followed her gaze to where she was looking across the street, but aside from the usual array of passersby, there appeared to be no cause for such alarm.
“Lydia!” He shook her a little. “Are you all right?”
She jerked back. “Y-yes. I’m sorry. I thought I saw…”
“What? Who?”
“Nothing.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “We… The meeting room was a bit stuffy, and I’m afraid I needed some air. I’m fine now, thank you.”
She pulled her arm from his grip and climbed into the carriage. After the other two men entered, Alexander followed. Lydia stared out the window, her hand at her throat, her breathing quick.
“You’ve got cause for concern with the start of war, my lord?” Dr. Grant peered at Alexander through the filtered light of the carriage interior. “Your mother was Russian; isn’t that right?”
“You are correct, Dr. Grant, yes. And no, I’ve no cause for concern.”
He kept his gaze on Lydia as the carriage rattled to a start. Color returned to her cheeks, but her unease appeared to linger even when they arrived at the hall.
Alexander fell into step beside her as they walked inside. Noise filled the air—the shouting of orders, hammers banging as workers constructed displays, crates screeching open.
Alexander bent closer to Lydia. “What is it? What happened?”
She shook her head and pressed her lips together. “Nothing, really, my lord. I’m dreadfully sorry. Just a bit of fatigue. Now please do explain to us how your exhibition is organized.”
For her sake, he allowed her the temporary escape but didn’t intend to let the matter drop. He gave the mathematicians a brief tour of the main part of the exhibition, which contained general objects of education—full classifications of paper and notebooks, inkwells, engraved alphabet slates, blackboards, portable chemical laboratories, lesson stands, mathematical instruments, and countless other implements for classroom use. A section