“Just a moment, then, milord.” Mrs. Driscoll scurried off.
Alexander waited impatiently before she returned to usher him into the morning room. Mrs. Boyd stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt as she approached. She had an imperial quality that he admired, and he intended to use her calculated interest in him to his advantage.
“Lord Northwood, to what do I owe this honor?”
“Mrs. Boyd, has Lydia spoken to you regarding my intentions?”
“Your intentions?” A gleam of interest appeared in her eyes. “No, my lord. Might I inquire as to what they might be?”
“I requested her hand in marriage when she visited Floreston Manor.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened, her hand going to her throat. “Oh, Lord Northwood, I had no idea. Lydia never said anything to me.”
Alexander paced to the windows and back. “Perhaps because she refused the offer.”
“She refused?”
“Yes, but she gave me no satisfactory reason for doing so.”
“I’m sorry, my lord.” Mrs. Boyd’s fingers trembled a bit as she brushed a lock of white hair from her forehead. “I’ve no idea what to say, except that clearly my granddaughter has behaved in a very foolish manner.”
“Quite contrary to her usual nature,” Alexander agreed. “And I must explain that I told Lydia she can continue her work, that she will lack for nothing. You may be assured I will take both you and Jane under my protection as well.”
“I’m deeply obliged to you, my lord. I… May I ask if the offer still stands?”
“For one more week, yes, though Lydia gives no indication of changing her mind.”
“This is why you’ve come to me?”
“I hope you might be able to talk some sense into her.”
“My lord, please have patience. Lydia is… different, you know. She always has been. She did not have a normal childhood, though of course she would make an excellent wife and do nothing to—”
Alexander held up a hand. “You needn’t vouch for Lydia, Mrs. Boyd. I am well aware of her qualities.”
He paused as the truth of the statement struck him. Everything about Lydia complemented him—her intelligence, her wit, her passion. Even her stubbornness suited his nature, as if it were a gentler echo of his own inflexibility. And her genuine goodness, her kindness, reminded him with every heartbeat of what he should strive to be.
“Lydia has many traits that I deeply admire,” he continued. “However, my offer does not stand much longer.”
“Of course not. I’ll speak with Lydia straightaway, my lord. Thank you ever so much. You honor our family with your consideration.”
Alexander took his leave and returned to the foyer. As he was putting on his coat, he stopped and glanced toward the stairs. Jane stood on the bottom step, her hand curled around the newel post.
Alexander straightened and buttoned his coat.
“Did you mean it, my lord?” Her voice quavered. “You really want to marry Lydia?”
He nodded and approached her. Her green eyes swam with tears, which made him uncertain what to do.
“You dislike the idea of me marrying your sister?” he asked.
Her tears spilled over. She shook her head.
“Then what is it?”
Her chest hitched as she swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. Alexander gave her shoulder an awkward pat, discomfited by her reaction. He suspected Jane couldn’t imagine someone taking Lydia away from her, that the very idea caused her pain.
“You would continue to see Lydia as often as you like,” he said.
She sniffled.
Alexander reached into his breast pocket and removed the locket. He took Jane’s hand and put the necklace in her palm, closing her small fingers around it. “This belongs to you. Lydia always intended for you to have it. If she does accept my offer, I’ll be most pleased to have you as a sister-in-law.”
Jane’s fingers tightened on the locket as a fresh course of tears spilled down her pale cheeks.
“It’s not that I dislike the idea of you marrying Lydia.” She gulped. “It’s that I don’t want her to marry you.”
She turned and ran up the stairs, leaving Alexander staring after her in utter bewilderment.
Chapter Twenty-One
He told me you refused.” Her grandmother’s voice shook with anger. She stood beside the windows of the drawing room, her hand clutching the knob of her cane. “Why would you do such a thing?”
Lydia twisted the folds of her skirt. Mrs. Boyd had been waiting for her when she returned from a brief meeting with Talia at St. Martin’s Hall. Her heart ached at the discovery that Alexander had gone to her grandmother without her knowledge, even as she