czar.”
“A despotic ruler, if ever there was one,” Lord Wiltshire added. “We must be united with our allies against him, Northwood, and in all areas of society. That’s really the crux of the matter.”
“And your own business of trading with Russia—fibers and such, isn’t it?—is also an issue, Northwood,” Sir George said. “It’s not been declared illegal, per se, but we can’t discount the possibility that it will be soon. Or at the very least that it will arouse public sentiment.”
“What would you have me do?” Alexander asked. “Remove the Russian display from the exhibit, limit trade with—”
“Lord Northwood, there’s not much you can do.” Faint sympathy glimmered in Hadley’s expression. He and Sir George exchanged glances. “We’ve got to… well, we’d need support of the union representatives and there are bylaws to consider, but I’d suggest you prepare yourself for the eventuality.”
Alexander’s fists tightened. “What eventuality?”
“I’m afraid we’ve little choice but to consider replacing you as director of the exhibition.”
Alexander stormed from the room. All the work he’d done for the Society, the exhibition, his family, his company… slipping like water from his fist. He let the door slam shut behind him as he strode into the exhibition space of St. Martin’s Hall.
Workers teemed through the great room like insects over a field. The hall itself, and the staircases, galleries, and passages, were crowded with tables, shelves, cases, and partitions to demarcate various displays. The air filled to the paneled ceiling with the sounds of shouting voices, hammers, the scrape and thump of crates.
His doing. None of this would have been possible if it weren’t for him, and now they could strip him of his duties as if—
Alexander stopped at the section devoted to the countries of Asia. Lydia stood near the China exhibit, her head bent as she examined a shelf of books. A surge of joy swelled beneath Alexander’s heart at the sight of her, diluting his anger.
Even with all the frustration she’d caused him, he could not deny the sheer pleasure he found in just looking at her. He had a constant longing to hear her voice, to feel her gaze on him, to bask in the warmth of her smile.
Christ in heaven.
He loved her. He wanted to marry Lydia because he loved her. He needed to marry her. He needed her.
He took a few breaths to calm his turmoil before approaching her. Talia and Castleford were also there, deep in conversation.
“Hullo, North.” Castleford lifted a hand in greeting. “We were just going over the final details here.”
Alexander kept his gaze on Lydia. An image of her flushed and naked beneath him flashed into his brain. He drew in another lungful of air and forced steadiness into his voice. “A pleasure to see you, Miss Kellaway.”
She smiled. His blood warmed.
“You as well, my lord,” she said. “I received word that several mathematical texts have arrived. You wanted my opinion on whether they should be included in the exhibition?”
Hell. Now Alexander didn’t even know how much longer the decisions would be his to make. He gave a short nod.
“If you would accompany me, please?” he asked.
Lydia stepped away from the exhibit, falling into pace with him as he walked toward the offices at the back of the hall.
“Er, is that Miss Kellaway?” A male voice interrupted them.
Alexander muttered an oath as Lydia turned to face the two men who were approaching. Alexander frowned, straightening his shoulders to convey an air of intimidation. It worked, as the two men stopped a distance away, their eyes going uncertainly from Lydia to Alexander.
She stepped forward with a delighted smile. “Lord Perry, Dr. Sigley, how wonderful and unexpected to see you here.”
Heartened by her enthusiasm, the men approached with their hands extended—the gesture being the only similarity in their respective appearances. One of the men was small and sprightly with inquisitive eyes that brought the image of Queen Victoria’s late pet spaniel, Dash, to mind. His shuffling, big-shouldered companion sported ears like Staffordshire oatcakes and a lackadaisical expression mitigated by keen dark eyes.
“And our utmost pleasure to see you, Miss Kellaway,” Dash the Spaniel said, grasping her hand in both of his and pumping it heartily.
“Yes, it’s been far too long since we’ve had the opportunity to match our wits with yours.” Oatcakes sidled between his companion and Lydia to take her hands.
Alexander cleared his throat. Lydia turned to him with a smile.
“Lord Northwood, these gentlemen are renowned mathematicians,” she said, gesturing to Dash. “This is Dr. Sigley, Fellow of the