by Candace Camp
The scrape of a boot heel against the flagstone walkway interrupted them, and both women looked up.
A tall, broad-shouldered man was coming down the steps toward them. His hair was pitch black and thick, a trifle longer and shaggier than was customary, and it was shoved back carelessly, a lock falling waywardly across his forehead. His eyes were a light color in his tanned face—it wasn’t until he was closer that Megan could make out that they were a clear, compelling green. He had a square jaw and prominent, sharp cheekbones, the strength of his face softened by the curve of sensuously full lips.
He was, Megan thought, the handsomest man she had ever seen. His gaze locked on hers, and a jolt shot through her.
She had never felt anything like this sensation before. It was stunning, paralyzing, slamming through her almost like a physical blow. Her nerves hummed, her muscles tightened, and for the briefest, strangest instant she felt as if she knew the man—not in the way she knew other people, even those she had known all her life, but in a deep, visceral way.
Even as she stared at him, the man halted abruptly and stood for a moment, staring back at her. Then, a little jerkily, he started toward them.
“Ah, there you are,” the duchess said pleasantly, motioning him toward her. “Come here, dear, I want you to meet someone.”
He reached them and bent down to kiss the older woman on the cheek. His eyes strayed almost involuntarily to Megan.
“Dear, this is Miss Henderson. She will be tutoring the boys,” the duchess said. “Miss Henderson, this is my eldest son. Theo.”
CHAPTER 3
Megan continued to stare. This? This was the man she had hated for the past ten years?
“Miss Henderson.” Theo sketched a polite bow to her. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Megan murmured a polite reply, not even sure what she said. She was finding it difficult to bring her scattered thoughts together.
“So you are brave enough to take on the twins,” he went on, his eyes twinkling. If he found it odd that a woman was being hired as a tutor for his adolescent brothers, he concealed it well.
“I—I’m not sure that I am their tutor—I mean—” Megan glanced toward the duchess. Had the woman actually hired her? She could scarcely believe it, but the duchess’s words a few moments ago had certainly sounded as if she had given Megan the job.
“I am so sorry,” the duchess said. “I did not give you a chance to refuse, did I? I confess, I was so eager that I was rude. Will you accept the position as their tutor, Miss Henderson?”
“Yes, of course.” Megan could scarcely believe her good fortune. She had been certain that her father’s plan would fail. Yet here she was, ensconced in the bosom of the family.
She stole a sideways glance at Theo and found his gaze on her, subtle lines creasing his forehead. She had the sudden, frantic notion that he knew who she was and why she was there. She told herself that was impossible. Ludicrous. It was merely her nerves making her see things that were not there.
Theo looked toward his mother, a smile forming on his lips, and Megan breathed a little sigh of relief. She had to get rid of this edginess.
“Perhaps Miss Henderson ought to see more of the twins before she makes her decision,” Theo warned, grinning. “Has she visited their menagerie?”
“Theo, really,” the duchess said repressively. “Don’t scare Miss Henderson off. I have only just found her.”
“I like animals,” Megan replied sharply, aware of a certain resentment that Theo Moreland was not at all as she had imagined him to be. “And I found the twins quite polite in a difficult situation. Indeed, they are lively lads who—who doubtless need a challenge in their schoolwork.”
As soon as her sharp words were out, Megan regretted them. It was not part of her plan to antagonize Theo Moreland.
To her surprise, his dark eyebrows lifted in amusement. “Well done, Miss Henderson. I see the boys have a champion.” He turned toward his mother, saying, “Perhaps it has been a mistake to give Con and Alex male tutors all these years. Given the way Olivia, Kyria and Thisbe feel about them, as well as Miss Henderson, it is obvious that women have a soft spot for the rascals.”
The duchess let out an inelegant snort. “Not Lady Kempton and her daughter.”
“The devil take it! Are they here?” Theo’s face assumed a hunted expression, and he glanced around, as if the women might be hiding somewhere among the trees and bushes, about to jump out at him.
“Not any longer,” the duchess assured him. “I was quite rude to them, I’m afraid. But they made me angry—criticizing Alex and Con in my own home! I hadn’t even invited them. They simply came calling, hoping, no doubt, to surprise you at home—though, of course, they pretended that it was me they had come to call on. Abominable women.”
“Thank heavens you sent them packing,” Theo remarked. “I scarcely dare attend a party anymore for fear Lady Kempton will pop up with one or the other of her daughters in tow. Which did she have with her today—the silly one or the spotty one?”
“I’m not sure. I am afraid I didn’t look at her closely,” the duchess admitted.
“She was definitely silly,” Megan offered. “As if those mice could do her any harm!”
“Mice?” Theo asked, a smile starting. “There were mice involved?”
“Oh, yes, and Rufus, as well,” the duchess said with a resigned air.
“Rufus wouldn’t have snapped at her ruffles if she had not jumped up onto the bench and danced about like that,” Megan said, defending the dog.
Theo threw his head back and laughed. “This sounds like a scene I very much regret missing. No doubt it would have been worth even having to converse with Lady Kempton.”
“Well, I would rather you had been there,” the duchess retorted. “I am sure then she would have been all honey and courtesy.” She sighed. “Much as I love having you at home, dear, I must say it is easier when you are off on one of your travels. Then I don’t have all these ambitious mothers trying to be friends with me.”
“Shall I set sail tomorrow?” Theo joked.
“Of course not.” The duchess rose and patted her son’s cheek fondly. “Now, dear, if you will do me a favor and show Miss Henderson about the place…I really must get back to my correspondence. I am right in the middle of a very important point to the prime minister.”
“Of course. It would be my pleasure,” Theo replied, and his eyes went over to Megan.
Panic fluttered through her. She didn’t want to have to face Theo Moreland alone right now. Indeed, she did not want to be around him at all, even accompanied by the duchess. She was feeling much too uncertain and confused.
She could not understand the feeling that had flashed through her when she first saw Theo—the visceral tug, the bizarre sensation that she knew him. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before.
But even putting that whole odd moment aside, she found Theo Moreland’s presence distinctly unsettling. She had expected to feel something as soon as she saw the man—but she had not expected the something she felt to be attraction!
She knew logically that it was unreasonable to expect the man to look the way she had envisioned him for years. The fact that a man was a villain did not mean that he would look like one. A handsome face and form could hide all sorts of wickedness. She had met venal, cold, selfish—even evil—men before in the course of her work, men who had appeared to be quite ordinary or pleasant looking, even handsome. She knew better than to take someone at face value.
Yet she had trouble reconciling this square-jawed, handsome, smiling stranger with the weasely-faced murderer she had always imagined. It wasn’t just his looks, she knew; it was his smile, his frank and open demeanor, the charming twinkle in his eyes—none of these things seemed to suit a murderer.
Most of all, she could not deny the sensations that rushed up in her in response to this man—the flutter in her stomach when he smiled at her, the strange heat that crept through her when his
gaze settled on her. It was disturbing, even a little frightening, that a man she hated could make her feel so…so fizzy and unaccountably warm.
And why had he kept looking at her? After that first unnerving moment when she had been pierced by the sensation that he had somehow figured out who she was, Megan had noticed him sneaking glances at her as the three of them talked. There was a certain warmth in his eyes that she knew denoted an appreciation of her face and figure, but there was something else, as well, a questioning, considering quality that she could not quite understand.
She told herself that he was curious about her only because it was odd for a woman to tutor two boys. Even knowing his mother’s espoused causes, he would have to wonder about Megan for applying for the position. It was unorthodox.
He could not suspect her true reason for being here. It had been ten years since he had killed Dennis; he surely would not connect her arrival with that.
As for the interest in his eyes when he looked at her, there was nothing remarkable in that. She had heard a number of tales of wealthy employers trying to seduce—or even force their attentions upon—governesses and maidservants. It meant nothing other than that she could add vile seducer to his list of sins.
Theo presented his arm to Megan, smiling. “Well, Miss Henderson? Shall I give you the grand tour?”
Megan pulled herself from her worried thoughts and pasted a smile on her lips. “Of course, uh, my lord. I would appreciate it very much.”
She hesitated for an instant, then stepped forward and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. His arm was rock solid beneath her fingertips, and even though she kept her hand as lightly on his arm as she could, it was impossible not to feel the firm muscle beneath his jacket.
“You have trouble with ‘my lord’?” he asked as they strolled through the garden. “I find Americans often do.”
Megan cast a look up at him. He was gazing down at her, not quite smiling, but his green eyes were alight with life and amusement. Megan realized that it suddenly seemed more difficult to breathe.
What was the matter with her all of a sudden? Why did this man affect her so strangely? She had never felt so tongue-tied and nervous, so unsure of herself.
“I always tell them just to call me Moreland if it makes them feel better. Or Theo.”
“Oh, I could not do that,” Megan said hastily, then mentally castigated herself for sounding so missish.
“As you like,” he replied equably, guiding her around toward the side of the house, where they entered by a different door from the one Megan and the duchess had taken earlier.
“This is the gallery,” Theo told her. One wall of the long hall was a bank of windows overlooking the garden. The opposite wall held portrait after portrait. “Countless generations of former dukes,” Theo explained carelessly, gesturing toward the paintings. “Nothing much of interest here, although it makes a great long expanse for rolling hoops down or turning cartwheels.”
“Activities of the twins?” Megan asked, smiling. She could well picture the boys using the grand, somber gallery for such occupations.
“For all of us at one time or another,” Theo replied. “I fear Reed and I were rather like the twins when we were young. Of course, we were not able to communicate with one another without words as Con and Alex can, which I suppose put us at a disadvantage in the area of creating trouble. And we didn’t have quite the number of animals to add to the mix—Mother blames me for that.”
“Oh? Did you bring them Rufus?”
“No. Reed was responsible for him. Alex and Con found him in the woods near Reed’s house last fall, rather badly torn up. An old farmer there patched him up for them and nursed him back to health. Then they brought him back here to terrorize the household. But I am the one who sent them the parrot and the boa and a number of other unseemly pets.”
“Indeed? Those are rather unusual pets.”
“I travel a good deal,” Theo responded. “Only the fear of Mother’s wrath keeps me from sending back more. I wanted to bring them a koala bear from Australia, but then I would have had to transplant eucalyptus trees for them to eat, as well, so I gave it up.”
“That’s fascinating. Where else have you been?” Megan kept her voice light and casual, though her heart sped up a little at finding herself so quickly on the threshold of the subject matter in which she was interested.
“Africa, China, the United States. India.”
“South America?” Megan suggested.
He looked off into the distance, and something in his face changed subtly, hardened. “Yes. There, too. Went searching for the headwaters of the Amazon.”
“And did you find them?” Megan watched him carefully, alert for even the most subtle signs.
Theo shrugged. Megan was about to ask him another question, but as they reached the end of the gallery and turned into the large open area of the foyer, Theo caught sight of a woman coming down the stairs, and he lifted his hand in greeting.
“Thisbe!” He turned toward Megan, saying, “Come. You must meet my sister Thisbe.”
Megan swallowed her irritation at the interruption and walked with him to the elegant staircase. She studied the woman coming down the steps.
She was tall and slender, as the duchess had been, but her hair was the rich black of Theo’s, and her eyes were an equally vivid green. Small spectacles perched on her narrow nose. She was dressed plainly in a dark skirt and white shirtwaist. Megan noticed that one cuff was ink-stained, and there was a smudge of something greenish on the blouse. She wore an abstracted look, but it vanished as she saw Theo, and she smiled broadly, her face lighting up.
“Theo!” She held out both her hands. “I haven’t seen you in—” she frowned “—well, in a long time.”
“That is because you have been locked in your shed out there for the better part of two days,” her brother replied teasingly, taking her hands in his and smiling down fondly into her face. “What have you been doing?”
“Experiments,” she replied. “I’ve been corresponding with a scientist in France regarding the effects of carbolic acid on—”
Theo raised his hands as if in surrender. “No. Please. You know I won’t understand a word of what you say.”
“Heathen,” Thisbe retorted without heat.
Theo turned toward Megan, saying, “I am the only member of my family who dislikes education.”
“No, not education. You merely dislike books,” Thisbe put in. She smiled at her brother and then at Megan. “And writing. He is the most dreadful correspondent—which is really quite horrid, as he is off traveling most of the time.” She extended her hand to Megan. “Hello, I am Thisbe Robinson, Theo’s twin.”
“I’m sorry,” Theo said. “You can see that I am equally abysmal with social skills. Thisbe, please allow me to introduce you to the twins’ new tutor, Miss Henderson.”
Thisbe looked faintly surprised, then pleased, and shook Megan’s hand heartily. “What a splendid idea. I am sure that a woman will deal much better with the boys. Have you met them yet?”
“Yes.” Megan smiled at Thisbe. She could not help but like the woman, whose candid, unaffected manner was very refreshing, especially compared to the other upper-crust women whom Megan had met, both English and American.
Theo let out a chuckle. “Actually, she met them in a typical situation. They let loose some mice on Lady Kempton and her daughter.”
“I am sure no one deserved it more,” Thisbe commented dryly. She turned to Megan to say earnestly, “There is no harm in Alex and Con, really. They are merely—”
“Lively?” Theo supplied. “Isn’t that how you described them, Miss Henderson?”
“Yes. There is nothing wrong with having energy,” Megan said stoutly. “It simply needs to be directed.”
“Quite right, Miss Henderson.” Thisbe beamed at her. “I say, I think you will deal nicely with the boys. Desmond—that is my husband—and I are always happy to help in the scientific areas. I find t
raditional texts quite lacking in that field.”
“As are my skills, I am sure,” Megan replied honestly. “I would welcome any help you could supply.”
No answer could have pleased Thisbe more, it seemed, for she seized Megan’s hand and shook it again with enthusiasm, promising that she would meet with her soon regarding her lesson plans. Then, with a quick smile for her brother, Thisbe was off down the rear hall, almost instantly deep in thought again.
“She and Desmond are excellent teachers in all things scientific,” Theo told her. “It is only with such small practical matters as remembering supper that they have problems. So if you want her help, I feel sure you will have to seek her out. The twins can show you where her laboratory is located—it is at the back of the yard, since she set fire to her first one and not only alarmed the servants but did some damage to my father’s workroom.”
“Your father’s workroom?” Megan asked, puzzled. She wouldn’t have expected a duke to have a workroom. She could not have said what she thought a duke did all day, but she would have supposed it involved anything but work.
“There are those who would call it a junk room, I imagine,” Theo explained. “It is a shed where he keeps his potsherds and the other artifacts he is working on. He sorts and identifies them, restores them if it’s possible. The more important pieces, of course, he puts in his collection room in the house—he has one here and one at Broughton Park—but the overflow is consigned to shelves in his workroom.”
“I see. He is interested in…antiquities, then?”
“Yes. Though only Greek and Roman. I am afraid he finds the rest of the world of little importance—the same can probably be said of everything since, oh, the time of Nero, as well.”
“I see.”
“Now, Uncle Bellard is interested in much more modern times—even as recent as the Napoleonic wars.”
“Uncle Bellard?” Megan repeated.
“Great-uncle, actually. He lives here, too. But it will probably be some time before you meet him. He is somewhat shy and usually sticks to his rooms in the east wing.” He grinned down at her. “Don’t worry, that’s about all the people present here at the moment. We are rather down from most years—we usually have a surprising number of relatives pop out of the woodwork when the season arrives. Fortunately, Lady Rochester has decided not to grace us with her presence this year—she chose to torment her daughter-in-law instead—or I would have to warn you to avoid her at all costs.”
