“But you see, this business with coded messages and a possible traitor...it isn’t just improper,” he said. “It could be dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” she repeated.

  “Mmm.”

  “Then...” She frowned. “Maybe you shouldn’t be investigating it either.”

  He threw his hands up in a hopeless gesture. “Ah, but what is life without risks?”

  This was the motto he’d always lived by, and he still felt it to be true. His greatest fear in life had always been, and likely always would be dying without ever having lived.

  Her lips parted, but rather than back away, she stepped forward. “Then all the more reason to accept my help.”

  “Your help, hmm?” He couldn’t help but laugh. “And what do you know of investigating issues of national security?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. But I know everything there is to know about Demetrius and Elsbeth as I’ve read their story no less than ten times.”

  His brows arched up. “Really?”

  She nodded, her expression chagrined. “Really.”

  He was torn between the urge to laugh and the desire to tug her into his arms for a crushing embrace. “If your father finds out...”

  “He won’t,” she said.

  He felt his defenses crumple in the face of her sweet sincerity. “Very well.”

  She grinned and his heart gave an answering kick to his ribs.

  He felt his breast pocket, confirming it was empty. He hadn’t thought to bring the missive with him. “But your assistance will have to wait.” He glanced about them pointedly. “This isn’t the time or the place for such things anyhow.”

  He saw her eyes go wide behind her mask. “You’re right. They’ll surely send someone any moment now to fetch me. You won’t want to be caught.”

  He smiled. She was adorable when she was fretting over him. “What about you?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “No one will wonder at me being in here. And honestly…” She grimaced as she adjusted her mask. “My mother would likely celebrate if I was to trap you into marriage.” She wrinkled her nose as she added quickly, “Not that I would. But she’s so desperate for me to marry, she would not mind how it came about.”

  He opened his mouth and shut it just as quickly. He had more questions and concerns in the light of that offhand comment than he knew what to do with.

  Surely this delightful, lovely girl could have her pick of men.

  But as quickly as he had that thought, he was seized with a dark, violent emotion that made anything but curling his hands into fists impossible.

  Any man would be lucky to have her...

  But he didn’t want her to have any man.

  His lungs struggled to function as the realization that had been niggling at him all evening finally began to work its way to the front of his brain.

  He wanted her for himself.

  Forever. For always.

  He wanted her to be his in every meaning of the word.

  The thought struck him like a blow to the chest, as if all the certainty he’d been struggling with since his brother died had come back all at once.

  He’d never felt more certain about anything in his life. This woman was his.

  She just didn’t know it yet.

  “Lord Galena?” she said softly. “Are you all right?”

  He nodded. He was better than all right. Like something had shifted inside of him, his insides felt like they were finally settling into place.

  They both stilled when they heard footsteps in the hallway.

  When the steps passed, he reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Go. Rejoin your friends and family.”

  She nodded. Was it his imagination or did she look as crestfallen as he felt at the thought of parting?

  He gave his head an exasperated shake. “I’ll come to call on you so we can discuss.”

  “But...” She looked so concerned, he wished he knew her every fear so he could allay them. But time was not on their side.

  “I know it’s not as exciting as bumping into one another on the streets or in the park,” he said with a teasing tone. “But I’m afraid now that I know who you are, I must insist I treat you the way you deserve.”

  She blinked. “And...how is that?”

  His heart twisted. It ached at the honest confusion in her eyes.

  “Like a young lady who deserves to be properly courted.”

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected with that admission, but her sudden frown was not it.

  “Oh, but you can’t...” she started.

  “Why not?” he demanded. For a moment, that vile jealousy was back. Did she already have a suitor? But no, she’d said her mother was desperate for her to make a match.

  Was it just him then?

  “Because people will think...” Even in this dim light he could see the blush creeping into her cheeks. “They’ll think...”

  “That I’m courting you,” he finished for her. That sense of satisfaction was back just saying the words aloud. “Let them.”

  He could say more, but he didn’t trust himself yet. And it wouldn’t do to frighten the young lady with his ardor. She’d need time. She deserved wooing.

  And besides, he ought to think this through first. He needed to come to grips with this new reality himself before he started spouting off about how he wished to court her.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that this was precisely what he’d been trying to avoid. He wasn’t ready to give up a life of adventure. He had no desire to settle down and start a family.

  However, that knowledge felt weak compared to the way his heart was begging him to lean down and kiss her.

  But they were alone in the dark and he’d never do anything to frighten her.

  So, he reached for her hand instead and lifted it to his lips. “Wait for me, Lydia. And I will come for you.”

  14

  Lydia stood before her startled mother, her chin held high with determination as she repeated herself. “I would like to go back to the finishing school today, please.”

  “Oh, but...” Her mother’s brows were drawn together in confusion. Not at the request—that was straightforward enough for anyone to understand—but at Lydia’s insistence.

  Lady Baker turned to her husband with that quizzical look and he shrugged from where he sat behind the newspaper. “I don’t see why she shouldn’t go back today rather than tomorrow if that’s what she wants.”

  “Yes, but...” Her mother huffed. “Sir Wendell is to join us for dinner this evening.”

  That caused her father to lower his newspaper with a frown. “Lydia, you really ought to stay for dinner with Wendell.” He smiled gently. “He’s coming to see you, after all.”

  Imogene smirked from where she sat working on her embroidery. After her father had asked her several more times to explain how she’d come to meet Lord Galena, he and her mother had apparently agreed with Imogene’s assessment—he’d asked her to dance as an act of charity.

  A nice way of saying he’d acted out of pity.

  She wished she could have argued, but she could hardly say, ‘That’s not true. He asked me because he thought me to be some traitor’s mistress.’

  It wouldn’t have helped matters, and she suspected she’d never be allowed to see the viscount again.

  And she had to see him. That interlude in the dark library couldn’t have been her one and only taste of adventure, of mystery, of romance...

  Of life.

  Wait for me, Lydia. And I will come for you.

  That had been lovely to hear, but...when?

  Her mind had been racing relentlessly since they’d parted, and she bristled with impatience as the minutes and hours ticked by. There were too many questions left unanswered.

  Could Wendell truly be involved in something so dastardly? She frowned as her mind called up memory after memory of Wendell’s cruelty as a child.

  Oh yes, she could believe it easier than one might expect. It wouldn't even surprise her, really.

  And there was no way she could sit across from him at dinner while the question was in her mind. What was more, she couldn’t stay in this house one second longer when there was a cryptic missive to be read that somehow involved her beloved Elsbeth and Demetrius. She felt certain Lord Galena would not wish to show her the missive or speak to her on the topic at all while she was still here in her father’s house.

  All the more reason she needed to get back to the School of Charm.

  Her father seemed to think that his comment that she ought to be there to see Wendell marked the end of the conversation, and as Lydia stood there dallying, her father resumed reading. She cleared her throat. “Father, I...”

  He looked up and she faltered. She wasn’t scared of her father, of course. But that didn’t stop her thoughts from scattering when he gave her that expectant look.

  There was a hint of impatience there, and that combined with what she truly wished to say had her shutting her mouth once more.

  But then, suddenly and inexplicably, she heard Lord Galena’s voice in her mind. What is life without risks?

  When he’d said it then, and when she heard it now, she had a visceral reaction. Almost like the words were what she’d been waiting to hear all these years. It was the thought that made her mouth open and words tumble out. “I don’t wish to marry Wendell.”

  Everyone went silent. Her father lowered the paper as her mother’s jaw dropped.

  Even Imogene forgot to smirk as her brows arched up all the way to her hairline.

  “I beg your pardon,” her mother said.

  “I-I don’t...”

  “You can hardly afford to be choosy, Lydia,” Imogene said, apparently over her shock. “Not unless you want to wind up a spinster.”

  Lydia turned pleading eyes to her father, willing him to understand. He didn’t look angry or smug like her mother or sister. But the disappointment she saw in his eyes was so much worse.

  “We’ve been over this, Lydia,” he said quietly. “He’s a good man who will treat you well.”

  “Yes, but...But what if he’s not a good man? What if I don’t trust him?

  “One dance with a viscount and your sister’s getting ideas,” her mother said under her breath.

  The mockery wasn’t meant to be heard by Lydia—or anyone other than Imogene, Lydia imagined, but the words cut like a knife nonetheless.

  “Lydia, darling...” Imogene set down her embroidery, and Lydia inwardly flinched at the patronizing tone. “You cannot so much as speak to a man. How do you expect to be courted?”

  Lydia’s lips parted but nothing came out.

  She had no answer.

  But she’d talked to Galena last night. Granted, it was in the dark and hardly a normal conversation. But it was something. She’d taken a risk in talking to him, and maybe...maybe if she put her mind to it she could try it again.

  Not with Galena. Her mother’s words rang true in her ears.

  She knew he did not see her as a romantic prospect. She’d thought he did for a little while there, and she’d been proven a fool. He’d thought her a suspect, nothing more.

  That wasn’t a mistake she’d not make again.

  She might be of assistance to him and his investigation, that was all. And now that he knew who she was, he’d treat her with kindness and consideration to protect her reputation. But she would not be so silly as to confuse that for something more.

  Even so...

  Her shoulders went back as she swallowed hard and faced her father. He was giving her a sympathetic look, and his voice was kind when he said, “I hate to admit it, but your sister has a point, my dear. You’re in no position to be choosy.”

  “I’m not being choosy,” she said. “I’m being honest.”

  Her sister snickered.

  “I’m being decisive,” she amended, her voice a little stronger.

  No one in the room seemed moved.

  She clasped her hands together. “All I ask is for more time.”

  Her father cast a quick glance toward her mother before sighing. “Very well. No one wants to force your hand. You can go back to school today, and we will discuss this again the next time you join us for dinner.”

  She nodded quickly. “Yes, Father. Thank you.”

  She turned to flee before he could change his mind. “I’d best tell my maid to start packing,” she murmured to no one in particular as she left. But as she climbed the steps to her room, all she could think was that she sincerely hoped she could find something incriminating against Wendell.

  That might be the only way to avoid marrying the man.

  Two days later, rather than reprimand Lydia for pacing as her mother had done, Miss Farthington grinned at her as she strode back and forth. “I do love this new energy you seem to have acquired of late.”

  Lydia smiled. That was one way of putting it.

  To her it felt as though she might explode if she did not move.

  She paused before a fire that burned low to keep away the chill. It had been overcast and rainy all day, and despite the fact that it was still early, the room was dark and cozy.

  Miss Farthington even had some candles lit for them to read by.

  Typically, one of Lydia’s favorite parts of living at this school was the shared love of reading. No one ever forced her to stop or do something mindless and dull like embroidery. No, if Miss Farthington saw Lydia contentedly reading, she typically joined in. And vice versa.

  But not today. Lydia continued her pacing.

  “Where is he?” she muttered.

  “Lord Galena?” Miss Farthington asked.

  “Who else?” Lydia’s smile was rueful. It wasn’t as though she had many callers.

  Or...any since she’d been here.

  She’d been a bundle of nervous excitement when she’d first returned to the finishing school, certain that somehow he’d know she’d returned and would pay a call post haste.

  But with each passing hour, her nervous excitement morphed into a fearful anxiety. Had he forgotten about her already? Had he decoded the note for himself and so did not need her help any longer?

  Had he thought her a silly girl and dismissed his promise to include her the moment she’d walked out of that library?

  “Perhaps I should send him a note,” she mused.

  Miss Farthington said nothing to that, but she closed the book she’d been reading and set it in her lap. “You seem different.”

  Lydia smiled ruefully. “Because I’m choosing to pace rather than read?”

  “No, I mean...” She tilted her head to the side. “For a little while now I’ve noticed it. Like you are coming into your own. I wonder what caused it.”

  There was a hint of a question in her voice, but she did not press the issue. She merely added idly, “I wonder if it could have anything to do with this caller you’ve been waiting for.”

  Lydia bit her lip. There was so much she wanted to tell her friend, but at the same time she did not want to put her in an awkward position as a headmistress.

  “First a dance, and now he’s calling on you...” Miss Farthington smiled as she reached for her tea. “Is he responsible for this change in you, I wonder?”

  Lydia blushed and ducked her head. She knew what the headmistress meant, of course. And she felt a little pang of disappointment because the reality was not what Miss Farthington hoped.

  He was not her suitor. But...

  But the answer was still yes. She nodded slowly, drawing closer to Miss Farthington as she spoke. “He is, but not in the way you might think.”

  Her brows arched. “No?”

  She nodded toward the book Miss Farthington had abandoned. “For as long as I can remember I’ve been reading about other people’s adventures. Fictional, mostly. But if I wasn’t reading about other people’s lives, then I’ve been watching people live their lives from wherever it is I’m hiding...”

  Miss Farthington waited patiently for her to continue. To put into words all the ways she’d been coming to life since her very first encounter with Lord Galena.

  “All these years, I’ve been playing it safe because I was taught to be scared for my life, but...” She paused to breathe deeply as she remembered his words. Under her breath she repeated them. “But what is life without risks?”

  “Pardon?” Miss Farthington said.

  “I’ve never taken risks. I’ve watched and I’ve read about adventure, but I’ve never had an adventure. I’ve never experienced life.”

  Miss Farthington’s smile of understanding was all the more sweet for the tears that welled in her eyes. “Well done, Lydia. It seems you’re starting to figure out who you are.”’

  Lydia’s smile felt tremulous but before she could respond, the housekeeper entered. “Lord Galena is here to see Miss Lydia, if she is receiving visitors.”

  Lydia’s grin felt like it might split her face in two, and Miss Farthington leapt up with a laugh. “Of course! Send him in.”

  A little while later Miss Farthington was pouring tea for Lord Galena, who somehow managed to look even more dashing and handsome while joining them for tea.

  Which was no doubt why her affliction was back, Lydia thought with a pang of despair.

  For yes, it was true. Despite the fact that Miss Farthington kept trying to draw her into conversation, and Lord Galena was giving her encouraging looks, she found herself painfully, awkwardly, horrifically mute.

  Again.

  It was his eyes, she decided, not without a hint of panic. It was the way he looked at her. It was the pressure building in this room every time she fell silent in the face of their questions.

  Meanwhile, all she wanted to do was ask him if he’d brought it.

  All she wanted to do was hide in the dark and let his warm, lovely voice wash over her.

  Instead, she sat here trembling until Miss Farthington made some excuse to leave them, assuring her that the door would be open and she would be just outside if they needed her.

  She called for Kitty to sit in the far corner as well.

  It was all quite proper...except that no one could hear them when they spoke quietly. A fact which Lord Galena, at least, took advantage of. “Miss Lydia, if you’ve had a change of heart and no longer wish to see the missive—”

 

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