just beneath the long gallery held dozens of floor, table, and pocket globes.
The subdivisions of the exhibit comprised items from foreign countries—models of Swedish and Norwegian schoolhouses, zoological specimens for teaching natural history, maps, sample drawings, writing frames for the blind, and musical instruments.
As much as Alexander had hoped to have Lydia to himself this afternoon, he admitted the mathematicians’ responses were gratifying—they expressed their interest and admiration over the array of objects and made several useful suggestions of how to improve the displays.
“How did you manage to obtain permission for all of this?” Lydia asked after the others had drifted off to various sections of the exhibit.
She was watching the activity with a hint of awe. Pride coursed through Alexander. He wanted the exhibition to impress society, the government, the world, but right now this one woman’s admiration surpassed the need for anything more.
“All the articles for display were brought in duty-free,” he said. “When I first applied for the exhibition, I assumed it would be small. I knew it was a good idea, but I wasn’t certain how people would respond. Displays of writing books and maps aren’t quite the same as displays of ancient sculptures.”
“Yet people did respond,” Lydia said. “Emphatically. You ought to be very proud, my lord.”
He was. Not only of himself, but also of the Society, the members who had supported him despite everything, the people who had worked for almost two years to bring the idea to fruition.
“Would it be all right if I brought Jane here to see the preparations?” Lydia asked. “I think she’d especially enjoy seeing the insect cases.”
“Of course. Your grandmother is welcome to visit as well.”
“She’ll be delighted. She’s heard quite a bit about it already. Your reputation precedes you, my lord.” A flush colored her cheeks as she appeared to realize what she’d said.
“Not always in a positive manner,” Alexander said. He leaned his shoulder against a display case and studied Lydia. “What have you heard about me? Other than the usual rumors.”
“That you run a company trading in… cotton and flax, I think?” She examined a display of pocket globes, her eyelashes dark against her high cheekbones. “That you were once engaged to Lord Chilton’s daughter, but he insisted on breaking off the engagement after what happened with your mother.”
Alexander waited for the inevitable questions. Threads of old hurt and embarrassment wove through him, but they were now ancient and frayed, too tattered to be binding.
“Did you love her?” Lydia’s question was quiet, her voice steady.
His hands dug into his upper arms, his spine stiffening. Lydia didn’t look at him, though her jaw appeared to tense as silence filled the space that should have contained his abrupt denial.
She rested her hand on a globe, lifting her gaze to him, her blue eyes concealed behind a shield of wariness.
“I had known Miss Caroline Turner for several years before proposing,” Alexander said. “She was everything I thought I wanted.”
“And what was that?”
“She was elegant, lovely, perfect for a peer. Polished as a diamond. And she was a good person, kind and without artifice. No one ever had an unkind word to say about her. I knew she would make an excellent wife.” He paused, then pushed the words through his constricted chest. “Before the scandal, yes, I loved her.”
Until this moment, he didn’t think he’d even made the admission to himself. And yet his sole concern was how Lydia would react.
She was quiet for what seemed a very long time, the tips of her fingers resting against the glass-covered surface of the miniature world.
“You must have been so hurt,” she finally said. An undercurrent of emotion tugged at her voice.
He wondered at its source, wondered how Lydia Kellaway had the capacity to experience pain over his loss. It was true—Lord Chilton’s severance of the engagement had sliced Alexander to the bone. But the humiliation had only deepened cuts already bleeding from his mother’s scandal, his father’s shame, his family’s disgrace.
“I can’t say I was surprised,” he told Lydia. “I knew what I’d have to contend with when I returned to London. I knew what I’d face. I’d other plans I didn’t want to give up, but I had to.”
“What were your plans?”
“I was preparing for a lengthy trip throughout Russia. I’d been planning it for years. Siberia, the Urals, Vladivostok. I’d proposed to Miss Turner before I left, and we agreed to marry upon my return.”
The frustration of a thwarted ambition rose in him. “The trip was intended