away from her face and went to take the pages of his work from the desk drawer. Holding them close to her chest, she preceded him into the foyer just as the front door opened.
“Ah, Lydia. I’m glad you’re home.”
Lydia winced as her grandmother entered, followed by a petite blond woman with delicate features and peach-blushed cheeks peeking out from beneath a fashionable hat.
Lydia became acutely conscious of the dampness on her drawers, the material clinging to her thighs. The musky scent of Northwood on her body. She glanced at him. He appeared entirely composed, only the wrinkles on his shirt evidence of their behavior.
“Good afternoon, Lord Northwood,” Mrs. Boyd said as Sophie came to take the women’s coats. “Lydia, this is Lady Montague. She just arrived from Paris yesterday for a visit. My lady, this is my granddaughter Miss Lydia Kellaway and Viscount Northwood.”
“A pleasure, Miss Kellaway. Lord Northwood.”
He responded in kind, stepping forward to greet her.
My God, Lydia thought—or rather, mon Dieu. What if the two women had walked in fifteen minutes prior?
A bubble of laughter worked its way up her throat. “Yes… yes, and you as well, Lady Montague.”
“Jane is still at the church with Mrs. Keene, but Lady Montague was kind enough to agree to come and meet you,” Mrs. Boyd explained. “Please tell Mrs. Driscoll we’re here, and then you can join us for tea.” She frowned. “What is so amusing?”
“Nothing. I…” Lydia pressed her lips together.
“You’re welcome to join us of course, my lord.”
“I was just leaving, Mrs. Boyd,” Northwood said. “Miss Kellaway and I had several accounting matters to discuss. And I wished to invite her to visit my father’s estate next weekend.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Boyd glanced at Lydia. Anticipation sparked in her eyes—though Lydia knew quite well it had nothing to do with the proposal and everything to do with the fact that Viscount Northwood had extended her an invitation.
“You’re welcome to join us, Mrs. Boyd,” Northwood added. “Jane as well.”
“Oh, thank you, my lord, most generous. But I must decline. Jane will be starting dance lessons, and I’ve several charities of my own I must attend to. But Lydia would be delighted to accept, wouldn’t you, my dear?”
“Delighted.”
“Delighted,” Mrs. Boyd echoed. She flashed a brilliant smile at Northwood. “Thank you, Lord Northwood. We are much obliged. You know, Mrs. Keene has spoken quite highly of you and the good works in which you are engaged.”
“Oh, yes,” Lydia agreed. “Lord Northwood is very generous with his endowments, which are indeed considerable.”
Northwood laughed.
Chapter Twelve
Dear Jane,
Another excellent riddle. I am still working on my response.
I did not know that worms have the ability to replace lost segments of their bodies. What an odd characteristic, though certainly a convenient one.
Here is a word problem for you, since it appears your cleverness exceeds the complexity of my own riddles:
Find an odd number with 3 digits such that all the digits are different and add up to 15. The difference between the first two digits equals the difference between the last two digits. The hundreds digit is greater than the sum of the tens and ones digits.
Perhaps you might ask your sister for help. If necessary, of course.
Sincerely,
C
The door clicked open. Jane pushed the letter between the pages of sheet music and turned to greet Mr. Hall. Except that it wasn’t Mr. Hall who entered the fancy drawing room, but Lord Northwood.
“My lord.” She smiled as she pushed herself up from the piano bench and gave a little curtsy. “I was waiting for Mr. Hall. Mrs. Driscoll’s just gone for tea.”
“Hello, Jane.” With an answering smile, Lord Northwood closed the door behind him and approached the piano. He paused beside her, running one finger across the pristine keys. An F-sharp sounded.
“Sebastian had this specially made by a piano manufacturer in Germany,” he said. “Cost a fortune. The man who made it accompanied the delivery himself to ensure it was intact and properly tuned when it arrived.”
“We just… we have a little cottage piano at home,” Jane explained. “I think my mother used to play it when she was alive. But no one plays it anymore. Well, I do now sometimes for practice. We had it recently tuned.”
“Do you like piano lessons?” Lord Northwood asked.
Jane hesitated, her flush deepening. She liked Lord Northwood a great deal and didn’t wish to lie to him. But neither did she want to sound as if she didn’t appreciate Mr. Hall’s lessons.
“I like Mr. Hall,” she finally said. “He’s quite a good teacher.