Always.
“I wish I’d known,” she said. “I wish—”
“Would it have changed so much between us?” Lydia asked, her arms tightening around Jane’s shoulders. “Would our relationship have been so different?”
No. She might have been different, though perhaps she wasn’t meant to be. Perhaps she was meant to be exactly who she was.
Jane eased away from Lydia and looked at her, wondering why she’d never before noticed the similarities in their features.
“Did you love him?” she asked.
Sadness filled Lydia’s eyes. She shook her head. “No. I never loved him.”
“Do you hate him?”
“No. Because without him, I wouldn’t have had you.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Alexander’s heart pounded so hard he felt it would burst through his chest. He’d waited for news of the riot to calm over the past week before approaching Lydia again, but the span of time had caused his emotions to knot into a disordered mess. He wiped his damp palms on his coat as Mrs. Driscoll bustled forward to lead him into the study.
Lydia rose from a seat beside the window, a guarded smile appearing on her face. His heart thumped harder. She’d never looked more beautiful, standing in a patch of fog-coated sunlight, wearing a black dress with a lace collar encircling her neck, her long hair captured in a ribbon. Her skin was pale, her blue eyes grave but not cold.
After Mrs. Driscoll left, Lydia stepped forward to clasp Alexander’s hands, squeezing them tight. She smiled.
Oh, God. Could he possibly love her more?
“Hello.” He couldn’t manage another word.
Amusement flashed in her eyes. “Hello.”
Alexander cleared his throat. “You’ve… you’ve been all right?”
“Yes. You? Talia told me the Society of Arts council has called a meeting for next week.”
“To discuss what happened, yes. Lord Hadley asked two of the police inspectors to attend and give their reports of what happened that night.”
“Why would the police… oh, Alexander.”
“It doesn’t matter, Lydia.”
“It does matter! They can’t charge you with something that wasn’t your fault.”
“They’ve been wanting an excuse to strip me of my duties anyway, so this is certainly convenient. Russian blood alone wasn’t a strong enough reason for dismissal.”
“But if there’s no evidence—”
“They don’t need evidence proving I was at fault. What matters is that there’s no evidence proving I wasn’t.”
“Surely they know it wasn’t until the gunshot that—”
“The police weren’t there when that happened. All they’ve got are people’s accounts. They don’t really know anything.”
Lydia caught her lower lip between her teeth and stared at his cravat for a moment.
“What are they saying?” she asked. “That you incited the riot by assaulting Dr. Cole?”
“Essentially. It’s not a legal charge, but they’ll either find a way to make it one or there’ll be a report in the Times that’ll do as much, if not more, damage.”
“But there was a mob of people outside before you even arrived at the hall. There was already—”
“Lydia.” He stepped closer to her, cupping the sides of her neck between his hands. He inhaled and let the clean, fresh-pencil scent of her soothe his frayed nerves. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re wrong, Alexander.” Lydia’s voice rose a notch, her shoulders tensing. “All you’ve done, all you’ve worked for, they can’t take it all away from you on some trumped-up charge. You can’t let them—”
Alexander kissed her. He pressed his lips to hers and felt the pulse in her neck leap against his palm. Fierce satisfaction filled him when Lydia sank against him as if she could do nothing else, her arms sliding around his waist, responding to his kiss with both softness and heat. A little noise escaped her throat. He fought the urge to yank the ribbon from her hair and bury his hands in all that lush silk.
Lydia’s hands flattened against his chest as she tried to put some distance between them. “Stop,” she whispered.
He forced himself to step back, swiping a hand down his face. He had to make this work. He had to.
“Is…” His voice tangled. He swallowed and tried again. “Is Jane all right? Your grandmother?”
“Yes. Jane is… well, we need to figure out how to navigate this new territory between us, but she’s not angry with me anymore. Still I think it will take time before she fully understands.”
A tinge of sorrow appeared in her eyes as she turned to pour them both tea. She was silent as she handed him a cup, then added sugar and cream to hers. Alexander waited for her to settle on the sofa, then sat in a chair a distance away so he would be less tempted