A Study In Seduction

chapter Twelve




Dear Jane,

Another excellent riddle. I am still working on my response.

I did not know that worms have the ability to replace lost segments of their bodies. What an odd characteristic, though certainly a convenient one.

Here is a word problem for you, since it appears your cleverness exceeds the complexity of my own riddles:

Find an odd number with 3 digits such that all the digits are different and add up to 15. The difference between the first two digits equals the difference between the last two digits. The hundreds digit is greater than the sum of the tens and ones digits.

Perhaps you might ask your sister for help. If necessary, of course.

Sincerely,

C


The door clicked open. Jane pushed the letter between the pages of sheet music and turned to greet Mr. Hall. Except that it wasn’t Mr. Hall who entered the fancy drawing room, but Lord Northwood.

“My lord.” She smiled as she pushed herself up from the piano bench and gave a little curtsy. “I was waiting for Mr. Hall. Mrs. Driscoll’s just gone for tea.”

“Hello, Jane.” With an answering smile, Lord Northwood closed the door behind him and approached the piano. He paused beside her, running one finger across the pristine keys. An F-sharp sounded.

“Sebastian had this specially made by a piano manufacturer in Germany,” he said. “Cost a fortune. The man who made it accompanied the delivery himself to ensure it was intact and properly tuned when it arrived.”

“We just… we have a little cottage piano at home,” Jane explained. “I think my mother used to play it when she was alive. But no one plays it anymore. Well, I do now sometimes for practice. We had it recently tuned.”

“Do you like piano lessons?” Lord Northwood asked.

Jane hesitated, her flush deepening. She liked Lord Northwood a great deal and didn’t wish to lie to him. But neither did she want to sound as if she didn’t appreciate Mr. Hall’s lessons.

“I like Mr. Hall,” she finally said. “He’s quite a good teacher. And he’s kind. But I just don’t think I’ve much talent for music.”

He continued looking at her, his fingers still idly playing with the keys.

Jane glanced at his hands. “Do you play, sir?”

His mouth quirked. “No. I know I don’t have talent for music, though I do still recall one tune.”

He sat down, flexing his hands and fingers in an exaggerated imitation of the exercises his brother did before playing. Jane giggled and edged a little closer to the piano. Lord Northwood plucked out a tentative version of “Greensleeves” before stopping and turning back to her with a grimace.

“That’s all I remember,” he confessed. “I had lessons for a time as a child, but it appears my brother hoarded all natural musical ability for himself. Always thought that was a bit unfair.”

Jane smiled again. A strange sense of relief flowed through her, though she didn’t quite know why. “It’s funny, isn’t it, sir? That some people are so effortlessly good at something that’s not at all easy for others.”

“Mmm. Very odd, that. Though you’ve got your encyclopedic knowledge of insects.”

“That’s not exactly a talent, though. Anyone can learn about insects. Not everyone can learn to play the piano the way Mr. Hall does. Or solve algebra problems the way Lydia does. Not everyone has something… inside them to offer.”

Lord Northwood looked down at his hands resting on the keys. “Everyone has something to offer, Miss Jane.”

“I don’t.” She winced, worried she sounded self-pitying when she meant to merely state a fact. But Lord Northwood only gave her a considering look.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t have something like Mr. Hall or Lydia. Or my father. He had such an instinct about his translations. Few people could do what he did.”

“Someday you might study insects in depth. Write books. Give lectures. Discover things about entomology that no one has learned before.”

Jane had never considered such a thing. A little tingle of excitement went through her at the idea of discovering something that no one else in the world knew—and at the idea that Lord Northwood believed she could.

“Well.” Jane gave him a wry smile. “Quite difficult to discover things when one is busy learning to dance and hold a fork properly. Not at the same time, of course.”

Lord Northwood laughed. He had a wonderful laugh, deep and booming, his face creasing and eyes twinkling.

“Ah, Alexander, you’ve finally consented to let me teach you a thing or two.” Mr. Hall stepped into the room. “Rather than the other way around.”

Lord Northwood rolled his eyes conspiratorially at Jane. She grinned at the mischievous look.

“On the contrary, Bastian, you’ve got a lovely young woman to instruct about the fine art of piano.” Lord Northwood pushed himself to his feet. “See you don’t bore her to tears.”

He picked up a coat that lay over the back of a chair near the piano. As he shook out the creases, a thump sounded on the carpet, the glint of metal flashing.

Jane bent at the same time as the viscount to retrieve the item. He reached it first, scooping the object into his hand, but not before Jane recognized the fenghuang engraving on the silver locket.

She straightened, confusion filling her chest. Lord Northwood and Mr. Hall exchanged glances, Mr. Hall clearing his throat with an awkward sound.

Jane scratched her head, the sudden tension in the air adding to her bewilderment. She knew the locket had belonged to her mother, that Papa had had it specially made as a wedding present. After Theodora Kellaway died, the locket was tucked away in a box with several other pieces of jewelry. As far as Jane knew, it hadn’t been taken from the box in years.

So the fact that the necklace was in Lord Northwood’s pocket was utterly baffling.

The viscount stepped toward her and extended his hand. The locket looked delicate and small against his big, rough palm.

Jane took it from him and rubbed her thumb over the engraving. She’d only seen the locket, held it, once or twice. Her chest hurt a little.

“It was my mother’s,” she finally said.

“I know.” Lord Northwood’s deep voice sounded tight. “Your sister told me.”

“Did she give it to you?”

“No. I’d never intended to keep it.”

“But why do you have it at all?” Jane asked.

“Through a rather odd set of circumstances that are perhaps best left unexplained. I have every intention of returning it to your sister.”

“I see,” Jane said, though she didn’t really.

She stared at the dragon engraving on the back. Something was happening between Lydia and the viscount. Jane sensed it now more than ever. Something ominous yet inevitable, like the darkening of a sea before a storm, long shadows of dusk spilling over the streets, flower buds closing to the night. A dragon spreading its wings.

She twisted the chain around her fingers and opened the locket. She stared at the picture of her lovely, smiling mother, and Papa, his expression serious, his face so dear, so familiar. Tears stung Jane’s eyes.

The voices of Lord Northwood and his brother created a deep hum. Jane glanced up to find they had stepped away from her to speak in lowered tones.

She started to close the locket, then noticed that the casing seemed oddly thick—too thick to house mere paper images. She closed the compartment and examined the edges.

The case hinging appeared thick as well, almost as if it were holding together a double seam. Jane pulled the case open again to reveal the pictures, then turned it to look at the seam. She wiggled her fingernail into the edge again, blinking with surprise when the casing popped open to reveal a second compartment hidden behind the first. An object dropped from the case to the floor.

Her gaze flew to the brothers, who remained half turned away from her in conversation. Jane bent to peer at the carpet, running her hand over the thick pattern. Her fingers brushed against a small piece of cold metal. She picked it up and laid it flat in her palm.

A tiny brass key. She’d never seen anything like it before. Smaller than the length of her little finger, the key had a scrolled end and a rectangular bit pierced with decorative holes. It looked like something a mouse might use.

The thought made her smile to herself.

“Miss Jane.”

Starting at the viscount’s voice, Jane looked up, her fist closing around the key.

“I’d be very much obliged if you would return the locket to your sister,” Lord Northwood said. “Though I must warn you she might not be entirely pleased.”

Jane thought the warning had something to do with the circumstances best left unexplained of which he’d spoken.

“Sir, if Lydia knows you have the locket, it’s not my place to return it to her.” She moved forward and held out the necklace. “And I’d rather not have her displeased with me.”

After a long hesitation, Lord Northwood allowed her to drop the locket into his palm. Jane started to return the little key as well, then stopped. Her fingers tightened around it, the thin edges digging into her hand.

“Right.” Mr. Hall clapped his hands together and moved to the piano. “We’d best begin our lesson, Miss Jane. I thought you might like to learn a little song called ‘Pretty Bee.’ ”

Lord Northwood gave Jane a bow, the locket still enclosed in his fist. “We’ll meet again soon.”

“Thank you, sir.”

She watched him walk to the door, her nerves stretching as she tried to make herself call him back. The key made an imprint against her palm. Lord Northwood left, the door closing behind him.

Jane’s heart thumped as if struggling to push blood through her veins. She turned to Mr. Hall, who was riffling through the sheet music.

“Come and start the scales, please, Miss Jane.”

Jane approached the piano. She dropped the key into her pocket, where it burned through her skirts for the entirety of the lesson.