might have been with Castleford, but it appears he’s already left and none of the curators have seen her. I heard the commotion out here and thought she might have come to investigate, but there’s such a throng—”
“Keep looking,” Lydia ordered, heading for the front door. “Look in the classrooms and the library. Check the retiring room at the back as well.”
“But where—”
“I can’t explain now, Sebastian, please. We must find her!”
She ran into the entrance hall, her hard breaths echoing in the vast foyer. She hurried up the main staircase that led to the great hall, the length and breadth of which occupied the entire first floor.
Pushing through the doors, she went into the exhibition. Workers milled about the exhibition displays, the sounds of hammers ringing through the air even as people streamed toward the entrance to see the commotion on the street.
Lydia suppressed a fierce urge to scream Jane’s name. If she was still here, if Cole was with her… God only knew what he might do to the girl if he knew Lydia was looking for her.
A shadow passed above her, moving across the window. Lydia peered up at the empty gallery, unable to discern much of anything through the dusk. Her heart thundered in her ears as she crept up the stairs to where the glowing embers of a fireplace illuminated a section of the gallery.
Her vision blurred, then cleared to sharp precision. Jane sat in a chair near the fireplace, one arm cradled close to her chest and her body trembling.
Lydia choked back a cry, an immense wave of relief sweeping through her. She fought the urge to scream for help.
A movement caught the corner of her eye. In the instant before her brain registered what was happening, a male hand clamped around her wrist. Pain spiraled up her arm. Cole jerked Lydia forward, his granite features mapped in shadows from the dying fire.
“Lydia!” Jane straightened, her eyes wide and frantic.
Lydia yanked her arm from Cole’s grip and ran toward her daughter. She wrapped her arms around Jane and pulled her from the chair. Hugging the girl close, Lydia twisted to pin Joseph Cole with a glare.
“What do you want?”
His gaze on Jane, he replied, “How much is it worth to you, Lydia? How much will it be worth to keep the information from him?”
“Northwood already knows the truth. I told him.”
Cole’s smile appeared, as cold and sharp as a crescent moon. “You expect me to believe you would ruin your life like that?”
“Believe what you will. He knows Jane is my daughter.”
“Our daughter. Perhaps you can convince her to tell me where the document is.”
“What document?”
“The acte de naissance she hid,” Cole said. “If she tells me where it is, this can all be ended very quickly.”
No. It would never end. Lydia knew that to the core of her being. Never.
She felt the press of Jane’s body against her side, the girl’s hand clenching her arm. She met Jane’s eyes. An odd understanding passed between them, something that spoke of regrets and sorrows that perhaps had some justification, some well-intended motive.
Lydia forced her gaze back to Cole. “Dr. Cole, why are you doing this?”
He looked at her with that clear, owl-like gaze that seemed capable of penetrating the deepest recesses of her mind.
“I lost everything, Lydia. First my position at the university. Couldn’t find another job to save my life. Then Greta… you know how weak she was, how frail. She couldn’t withstand the strain. Crumbled underneath it, really. What savings I had went to medical expenses, then, of course, to the burial.”
Lydia wanted to clamp her hands over her ears to avoid hearing about Greta’s death. “Why did you lose your professorship?”
A vague smile wreathed his mouth. “Ethics violations, of a sort. Can you imagine?”
“Ethics—”
“She was dead when I arrived. Shame they never believed me.”
Lydia’s breathing grew shallow, bile burning in her throat. “Who… who was—”
“The daughter of one of the history professors. Pity too. Lovely girl. I’ve no idea how many men she’d entertained in her rooms.”
“And you… you—”
“They said she’d been strangled. They claimed I was a suspect, but they never proved I did the deed. Still, talk of the whole thing was enough for the education minister to see fit to dismiss me.”
A door banged open somewhere. Voices rose from the lower floor like a flock of birds. Something crashed.
Lydia pushed Jane behind her, trying to make the movement inconspicuous. She wanted to shove the girl toward the stairs and