by Candace Camp
“Well done, Miss Henderson,” the duchess put in warmly from her end of the table.
The conversation moved on as Theo asked Rafe a question about a horse he had bought a few days before, and Megan relaxed, grateful that the attention had been taken off her.
Olivia St. Leger, who sat on one side of Megan, leaned in closer and murmured, “I hope we are not overwhelming you.”
“Oh, no!” Megan replied honestly.
While Rafe McIntyre and the fact that he and Kyria had lived in New York had raised a certain unease in her, she had otherwise thoroughly enjoyed the dinner conversation. The Moreland family was a trifle odd, but she found their eccentricities charming. None of them seemed to be snobbish in the slightest degree. Everyone, indeed, had gone out of his or her way to place Megan at ease.
She felt a flash of guilt at the way she was deceiving them all. She thought of how they would feel when she revealed the truth about what Theo had done, and she hated to think of how it would pain them. They would, she knew, despise her.
When the meal was over and Megan was leaving the dining room behind the twins, it was Theo who caught up to her and bent near her to ask a similar question. “Ready to pack it in after a night of the ‘mad Morelands’?”
“No, of course not,” Megan replied, firmly quelling the traitorous twist of warmth that ran through her abdomen at the touch of his breath against her ear. “Who would dare to call your family that?”
“Oh, a number of people,” Theo replied carelessly. “I fear that most of English society finds us distinctly odd.”
“There are some,” Megan responded, “who would say that they find all of English society distinctly odd.”
He chuckled. “And they would probably be right.” He paused, then went on, “Yet my mother says that you are interested in all things British.”
“What?” Megan glanced up at him, puzzled, before she remembered, with a start, the lie she had told the duchess to explain why she had come to work in England. “Oh! Oh, yes, I am, of course.”
She had spent hardly any time with him, and already he had caught her out in a lie! Megan reminded herself that she was going to have do much better than this or she would not last long enough here to find out the slightest thing about him or the secret of what had happened long ago with her brother.
“I have long been very fond of English poets,” she went on, hoping to cover her mistake. “I wanted to see firsthand where they lived.”
She all but winced at how syrupy her words sounded.
“Of course,” Theo murmured.
Megan glanced at him sharply. Had his voice been tinged with amusement? And did that mean that he suspected she was lying or that he merely thought her silly? She found that she intensely disliked the idea of either.
Megan looked around them. Everyone else had disappeared up the stairs or down the hall into one of the sitting rooms. “You should join your family,” she told him.
Moreland shrugged. “With everyone here, they will scarcely miss one.”
“I doubt that.” Theo, she thought, was not one who could be easily overlooked.
“If you are concerned, then let us join them.” Theo offered her his arm.
Megan stepped back, clasping her hands together. It startled her how much she would have liked to slide her hand into the crook of his elbow. “I—I cannot. I should go up to my room.”
“It is early yet,” he protested.
“I must do some work,” she replied. “I am unfamiliar with the texts the boys use, and I need to look them over. Plan my lessons.”
She thought for a moment that he would protest or try to persuade her to skip her work, but he said only, “If you insist.”
Perversely, Megan felt somewhat disappointed at his easy acquiescence.
“I will escort you to your room,” he continued, once again offering his arm.
A little laugh escaped her. “I think I can manage to stave off the dangers between here and my bedchamber.”
“Please, you must allow me to play the gentleman.”
“Play?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Is it only pretense, then?”
She realized, with some horror, that she sounded as if she were flirting with him. Megan looked away quickly, then started toward the stairs.
Theo walked along beside her, though he made no attempt to take her arm. “You neatly managed to avoid saying what you think of our family.”
“Did I? I did not mean to. It is quite easy to say what I think of them—they are quite warm and kind, much more so than I would ever have expected. They have all been most generous and courteous to me.”
“Mmm. There are those who find their behavior scandalously lax.”
“I have never been attracted to snobbery, myself,” Megan retorted.
“Neither have I,” he agreed as they started up the wide marble-stepped staircase. “Perhaps that is why I have chosen to travel elsewhere.”
“Avoiding your countrymen?” Megan asked, looking doubtful.
“Not avoiding, exactly. But I always wondered what other people were like. It seemed to me that there must be some who were not so stuffy. Less concerned with their rank or the proper form of address.”
“And have you found them?”
He smiled. “Yes. And some of them have even been Englishmen.”
“What about Americans?” Megan asked, sneaking a glance at him to see how he would respond.
“Oh, yes, I’ve met a few Americans here and there. I’ve been to the United States. Not New York. I traveled from the Orient to San Francisco three or four years ago.”
“How did you like it?”
“A very interesting place. Raw and new and bustling. Rather like a lot of your country, I imagine.”
“I have never been west, myself,” Megan admitted.
“No interest in traveling?” he asked, slanting a look at her.
“No, it’s not that. Lack of opportunity, I suppose. And I enjoy what I do.”
“Teaching the children of wealth?”
“Oh. Well…it is always satisfying to impart knowledge.” Megan tried to think of what enjoyment teachers would get out of their job, since she had spoken unthinkingly of her feelings about her own career. “To mold young minds.”
“I see.”
Megan also realized that she had let the conversation slip away from the topic of Americans whom Theo had known. “What did you think of the Americans you met? Less formal than the British, I imagine.”
He nodded. “Yes. Quite friendly. At least most of them. Easy to get to know. Eager to help one out.”
Megan nodded, hoping that he would expand on the subject, but he seemed content to let it drop.
“Were they explorers, like yourself?” she prodded.
Theo shrugged. “Some of them. Most, I guess, were off ships. Or there buying goods to import.” He smiled. “Like Englishmen.”
Megan gritted her teeth, wondering if he was being purposefully evasive. She wished she could just ask pertinent questions, as she did when she was researching a story. Of course, he would scarcely admit to having killed an American, anyway. She decided to try another tack.
“It must be fascinating, exploring far away places,” she said. “You must have seen many wonderful things.”
“Oh, yes.” He smiled, remembering. “Temples, palaces, jungles. Extraordinary animals.”
“Like the ones you sent back to the twins.” He murmured agreement, and she went on, “I suppose you’ve probably brought back other things, as well. Silks from the Orient, for instance. Jade. Or precious stones. Artifacts from some ancient ruin.”
“Yes, some things. Especially products of the country. Not artifacts, really. I disagree with many Europeans’ habit of taking or buying the treasures of a country. Pieces of history and culture are irreplaceable and belong to that country. My father and I disagree in that regard. He has numerous pieces of ancient Greek and Roman art and artifacts in that collection room of his.”
“Collection room?” Megan repeated, interested. A collection room seemed like a perfect place to hide a treasure.
“Yes. If you’re interested in such things, I am sure he would be happy to show it to you. Of course, his contention is that if he did not buy the objects and bring them to England, someone else would, or they would be left to ruin or be looted by local thieves. And there is something to be said for that. No doubt many of the ancient treasures would be destroyed or lost if left where they were, and the countries where they are located are often in no position to preserve and display them properly. Certainly it is the common practice of archaeologists and such to bring back what they find for the men who have financed their expeditions. Still, it is a practice I dislike.”
“You have never brought back such things?” Megan asked, hoping that her question did not sound as skeptical as she felt.
He grinned at her. “I don’t claim to be a saint, Miss Henderson. Of course I have brought back some jewels and such. Kyria would never have forgiven me if I had not. But I have generally left any ruins I have traveled to intact. I don’t believe in taking something that I consider a national treasure, especially as I have gotten older and gained more knowledge and experience.” He shrugged. “Perhaps it is a meaningless distinction. Besides, I have to admit that, frankly, I am less interested in such things than my father. Far easier to be virtuous in that case.”
As she was still trying to frame a question that would not give away her interest in what he had brought back with him from his trip up the Amazon, they reached the door of her bedroom. There was little Megan could do but turn to him and smile politely.
“Thank you for seeing me up to my room,” she said.
“I can assure you with all honesty that it was my pleasure,” Theo responded.
He looked down at her, his green eyes gazing deep into hers in a way that made Megan feel distinctly breathless. She could feel an unaccustomed heat rising in her cheeks, and she hoped that he could not see the betraying blush in the light cast by the wall sconces.
Theo reached down and took her hand in his. Megan’s heart sped up. She wished that she could think of something, anything, to break the moment, but she could only stand numbly, watching him, as he lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. His lips were warm and soft against her skin, and her fingers trembled at the touch, heat corkscrewing down through her torso and pooling in her loins.
“Good night, Miss Henderson. Sweet dreams.”
Megan had to clear her throat before she was able to answer. “Good night.”
She snatched her hand away from his and hurried into her room, closing the door behind her.
CHAPTER 7
During the next few days, Megan managed to avoid seeing Theo for more than a few fleeting moments. She chose not to inquire into her own reasons for being happy about that, simply accepting with gratitude the fact that for the next two evenings the duke and duchess and most of their family were committed to social engagements, which meant that the twins, and therefore Megan, had their supper upstairs in the nursery schoolroom. She pleaded illness the following evening, but the concern of the twins and even the duchess, who came to Megan’s room to inquire after her health, forced her to decide that she would have to forego that scheme in the future.
Megan steeled herself the following evening to go down to the family dinner, only to find, to her relief and inexplicable disappointment, that all her effort had been for naught, since Theo had gone out to dine at a friend’s.
That fact was, of course, quite fortunate, as she quickly reminded herself, since tonight she planned to search the duke’s collection room.
Over the course of the last few days, in between the twins’ schooling and her own hours spent in her room frantically studying in order to stay a bit ahead of them, she had finished searching most of the accessible areas of the house, even the servants’ sleeping quarters and the kitchen area downstairs, the latter under the guise of seeking out a cup of hot chocolate. She had found only one other locked room, a small area off the butler’s pantry, which she assumed was the storage place for the family’s extensive silver serving pieces and flatware.
There were valuable items galore throughout the house, all of them sitting out in the open. Some of them looked exotic, but none appeared to her to be of South American origin—though she would be the first to admit that her knowledge in that area was limited. She realized more and more with each passing day the enormous task that she had set herself. She did not know exactly what she was looking for, other than that it was small enough to be carried on a chain about one’s neck, possibly a medallion—provided, of course, that what Mr. Barchester remembered seeing Theo holding secretively was indeed something he had taken from Dennis when he killed him.
It could easily be in a safe in some wall that she had not located, or in a locked box. Or Theo could even have given it to someone else in his family—she could not help but remember his comment about bringing jewels back for his sister Kyria.
However, she realized that in order to actually accomplish any search, she needed to narrow it down to the most likely places where the mysterious object might be located. Those areas were Theo’s own bedchamber and his father’s collection room.
Searching both involved a certain amount of risk, since there was no reason for her to be in either one of those places. She decided to start with the duke’s collection room in the hopes that she would get wonderfully lucky and find her quarry there, and not have to search Theo’s room.
When Theo had mentioned his father’s collection room the other night, Megan’s mind had immediately leaped to the locked room beside the library. It seemed the right place for a scholar to have a room filled with the antique goods that interested him, and a valuable collection would warrant a lock. Besides, she was fairly certain that she had looked in every other room in the house and had found none that contained such a collection, which made it likely that it was the one room into which she had not looked.
It took only a trip to the library with the twins to confirm that the locked door in the library led into the duke’s collection room. The boys had offered to open it for her, explaining that the duke kept the key for it in his study. She had declined, saying that they had best get on with their studies. Besides, she added, she doubted that the duke would want them all poking about his room.
“Oh, he doesn’t mind,” Con assured her cheerfully. “As long as we’re careful.”
“The lock is mostly to keep the servants from going in and dusting. One of his pieces got broken that way once,” Alex explained. “And, of course, he wants to keep thieves out, though it’s my opinion that a thief would take the silver and the jewels, not vases and broken statues and such.”
“Well, those fellows did break into the house to get something out of the collection room that one time at Broughton Park,” Con pointed out.
“He has another one?” Megan asked, her heart sinking at this further demonstration of the enormity of her task.
The boys nodded. “Yes, at the house in the country. It’s larger, actually. Papa spends more time there, and anyway, that house is bigger.”
“But those men weren’t really after anything of Papa’s,” Alex argued. “It was Kyria’s reliquary they wanted.”
“Your father keeps other things in his collection room?” Megan asked quickly. “Valuables that belong to you children?”
Con shrugged. “Sometimes. But nobody else collects much except Papa. Somebody just happened to give Kyria that box.”
“Collapsed on the doorstep and died,” Alex added.
Megan stared. “Are you serious?”
“Oh, yes. Lots of people wanted the box,” Con said matter-of-factly. “Alex was abducted. They tried to get me, too, but I got away.”
“I got away, too!” Alex protested.
“Yes, but it took you longer.”
Megan intervened quickly to cut off one of the twins’ lengthy
debates. Close as they were, she had discovered that they were also each other’s chief rival in sports, academics and seemingly every other aspect of life.
“Does this sort of thing happen often here?” she teased.
The boys considered her statement seriously.
“I’m not sure how much ‘often’ would be,” Alex mused. “There were those murders near Reed’s house. Con and Anna and I discovered one of the bodies.” His face paled a little at the memory.
“And Olivia investigated those ghosts a few years ago,” Con added. “But we didn’t have anything to do with that. It all happened at Stephen’s house.”
Megan looked at the boys, not sure what to say. The Moreland family seemed to get into an inordinate number of scrapes.
Alex frowned a little. “I’m sorry. Perhaps we shouldn’t have told you.”
“You aren’t going to leave because of that, are you?” Con asked.
“No, I won’t leave because of that,” Megan promised, smiling at them. “However, I do think it is time we got back to our studies.”
Megan had to wait two days to break into the collection room, for both that evening and the next, several members of the family were out at social events of one sort or another. She had no idea at what time they would return, and it would not do to be caught rummaging around in a locked room when any of them came home. Some parties, she knew, lasted until the wee hours of the morning, and she would not be able to stay awake long enough to break in after all of them had come home.
The third evening, however, everyone spent quietly at home, with the exception of Theo, who had gone to dinner at a friend’s house. Megan, too nervous to spend her evening as she usually did, reading ahead in the twins’ texts, paced up and down in her room, going to the door frequently to open it a crack and listen for any sounds.
