by Candace Camp
“Hallo,” Con replied. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting to talk to you.”
“Really? Why?” Con dropped down onto the ground beside Theo’s bench, heedless of the effect the grass and dirt would have on his clothes.
“You going down to see Thisbe, too?” Alex asked. Somewhat tidier than his brother, he sat down on the bench beside Theo.
“No. Actually, I was just—well, I wanted to see how you were liking your new tutor.”
The boys’ immediate grins told him how much they liked Miss Henderson.
“She’s bang up to the nines,” Alex responded, and Con nodded his head in agreement.
“Don’t you like her?” Alex went on. “Why do you want to know about her?”
“Yes, I do like her,” Theo replied candidly. “I just wondered…well, how she was as a teacher.”
“She’s ever so much better than all our old tutors,” Con told him.
“Oh, yes. She lets Thisbe teach us.”
“And she lets us have time to go outside and play. She says it burns off energy and makes it easier for us to study.”
“I see. Well, I can see how that would make you like her. But what I wondered…” He paused, trying to think how to phrase his question so that the boys would not grow either suspicious or defensive about their new teacher.
“Whether she’s really a teacher?” Alex prompted.
Theo grimaced at his own stupidity. He might have known that the twins would figure it out as quickly as he. “Yes. That’s exactly what I want to know. Obviously she has made you wonder, as well.”
“She’s much too pretty,” Con gave Theo his own argument.
“And much too nice,” Alex added with a sigh.
“Why would anyone like her want to be a tutor?” Con went on, wrinkling his forehead in genuine perplexity.
“You must have noticed something more, though,” Theo urged.
“Well, she’s too practical. None of our other tutors related anything we learned to life.”
“She called Pliny the Elder boring,” Alex added.
Theo suppressed a grin. “Honest, at any rate.”
“And she doesn’t know Greek,” Con said.
Alex nodded. “She never corrects us when we get a word wrong, and she hasn’t graded any of our exercises.”
“What about Latin?” Theo asked.
“She knows that better,” Con told him.
“She’s good at literature and spelling and grammar,” Alex put in.
“And history. She knows more than we do.” Con frowned and looked at Theo anxiously. “You’re not going to tell Mother, are you?”
“We can do the math just fine,” Alex joined in. “And Thisbe is better at science than any tutor we ever had.”
“And who cares about Latin and Greek, anyway?” Con argued. “I know Papa does. But it’s not as if we are ever going to speak them, is it? We can do those things ourselves, anyway. She’s not at all stuffy, and she lets us spend extra time on the subjects we’re interested in.”
“But she doesn’t let us get away with anything,” Alex assured him. “We don’t just like her because she lets us do what we please. We have been working much better than usual, haven’t we?” He turned to his twin for confirmation.
Con nodded. “That’s right. Really, Theo. It’s easier to think when we’ve had a chance to be outside some, and I like arranging our classes the way we want them.”
“Don’t tell Mother to let her go,” Alex pleaded.
“I won’t. At least, not yet.” Theo told his brothers. “I probably should, but I like her, too.”
“Thanks!” Con bounded to his feet, grinning.
“You’re the best,” Alex added.
“I just wonder why she is pretending to be a tutor,” Theo explained.
Alex nodded. “It is odd. I suppose, well, she must not have any money, don’t you think? It would be better than being a maid.” His expression made it clear that he had some doubts on that subject.
“Has she done anything else odd? I mean, aside from not knowing the subjects. Have you seen her doing anything? Has she asked you questions about—I don’t know, anything tutors normally don’t ask about?”
The twins frowned, thinking. Finally Con said, “I don’t know. Not really. She takes books from the schoolroom back to her room—I think she’s reading ahead in our texts.”
“She’ll feed our pets. And she even picked up the boa,” Alex said in a tone of some awe.
“I think Henderson might not be her last name,” Con said quietly.
“What?”
“You didn’t tell me that!” Alex looked at his brother accusingly.
“I’m not sure.” Con looked uncomfortable. “It might not mean anything. But I noticed her handkerchief one day. It had a monogram on it, only the big initial was an M, and the little ones were M and C. There wasn’t an H at all.” He looked at Theo pleadingly. “But there’s probably a reason, don’t you think?”
“Mm,” Theo murmured noncommittally. He was sure there were any number of reasons for the discrepancy. Unfortunately, he could not think of a good one.
“She’s not wicked,” Alex said firmly, seeing his older brother’s hesitation. “I’m certain of it.”
“She’s not,” Con added.
Oddly enough, Theo thought, he agreed with the boys. Despite the evidence to the contrary, he had trouble believing that Miss Henderson—or whoever she was—was deceiving them because she was wicked.
He nodded. “Don’t worry. I will not say anything until I find out more about Miss Henderson. And don’t you, either,” he added, with a warning look. “Don’t tell her we have spoken about any of this.”
The boys promised solemnly, then took off at a run for Thisbe’s laboratory. Theo settled back on his bench to think.
He was probably playing the fool, he told himself. Letting a pretty face lead him into thinking that the person who owned it was as attractive inside as out. All her actions pointed to the fact that she was deceiving them.
But what could be her purpose?
The most likely reason, he thought, was that she was planning to steal something from the duke’s collection room. His father had one of the most extensive and valuable collections of early Greek and Roman artifacts in the country. Among the broken shards of pottery and lava-encased utensils were things of such beauty and age that collectors would pay a pretty price for them.
Still, they were not items Theo thought an ordinary thief would take. The statues and the large vases were not that easy to transport, for one thing, and, moreover, it would take knowledge of Greek and Roman artifacts to know which things were the most valuable. There were many other valuables in the house—jewels, silver and coins—that would be worth more and were more easily identified and carried than Papa’s ancient vases and marbles.
Was Miss Henderson a connoisseur of classical art herself? It seemed unlikely that such a person would be sneaking about disguising herself as a tutor. More likely she had been commissioned by a collector—some jealous rival who wanted some piece or pieces for himself? Or a dealer, say, who knew that anything in the Duke of Broughton’s collection was among the best pieces to be had?
But why wouldn’t that person hire a male to masquerade as a tutor to the twins? It would be more logical. Their radical-thinking mother had been willing to hire a woman, but it had been a risky thing to try. Even the duchess might have felt it inappropriate to have a woman supervising two boys who were only a few years from manhood.
He shook his head. Obviously, he was going to have to get some answers. And until he did, he would be keeping a close eye on the duke’s collection room…and on Miss Henderson.
A faint smile touched his lips at that thought. It would be no burden to keep an eye on Megan Henderson.
* * *
MEGAN KEPT HER GAZE on the floor as she went down the stairs to the dining room the next morning, searching for any sign of the key she had dro
pped. She saw it nowhere, either then or on her way back up the stairs after she and the twins ate breakfast.
Worry about the key gnawed at the back of her mind all through the boys’ lessons. While the twins were taking their play break in the morning, she hastened downstairs to the duke’s study, but much to her chagrin, the duke was seated at his desk, reading a book, so she had to beat a hasty retreat. Later, after the boys had gone for their science lesson, she once more started downstairs, but before she even drew close to the study, she heard Theo’s voice in the hallway, so she whirled and ran back up the stairs.
The last thing she wanted was to run into Theo. She had the awful feeling that she would blush as soon as she saw him, remembering how she had acted last night. Indeed, she hoped that he would not be at the table that evening at supper.
Her hopes were dashed as soon as she walked into the dining room with the twins. Theo was standing near the end of the table, chatting with Reed and Anna. The three of them glanced over when the twins clattered into the room, Megan right behind them, but only Theo’s gaze went straight to Megan’s face.
Just as she had feared, a flush rose up her throat, and she looked quickly away. She could not deny, however, that even in her embarrassment, she had felt a flash of heat ripple through her abdomen in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with desire.
Megan dug her fingernails into her palms as she made her way to the table, determinedly not looking over again at Theo. She refused to allow him to unnerve her, she told herself. Whatever strange and awful power he had over her, she would fight it and win. She had to.
She was on edge, worried that Theo would come over to try to talk to her, alert every moment to where he was and what he was saying. So conscious was she of him that she could scarcely pay attention to the story Thisbe was telling her about Con and Alex’s successful experiment this afternoon.
The duke and duchess finally entered the room, the signal for everyone to sit down and begin the meal. Megan took a seat between Thisbe and Alex. At the Morelands’ unconventional table, no one bothered with the rules of social seating or the precedence of titles, but simply took their places wherever they wanted to. Tonight, much to Megan’s dismay, Theo sat down in the chair directly across the long table from her.
“Miss Henderson,” he said with a smile that would have melted a heart of stone. “How are you this evening?”
Megan tilted her chin up, determined not to appear disturbed by Theo’s presence. “I am fine, sir. And you?”
“Never better.” His eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer before he turned his attention to Anna, on his right.
They were a smaller group than they often were at supper that evening. Neither Kyria nor Olivia nor their spouses were dining with them this evening, and as a result, the family was all grouped at one end of the long table in a more intimate setting that encouraged conversation among all the occupants of the table together, rather than the scattered and noisy multiple conversations that normally reigned at the Moreland table.
A lull opened up in the conversation as they were finishing a delicately poached fillet of sole, and Theo tossed into the silence, “Father, Miss Henderson has not seen your collection yet. I am surprised you have been so remiss.”
Megan’s gaze flew to Theo in astonishment. He was watching her, his eyes unreadable, the faintest trace of a smile hovering about his lips. Her heart began to hammer in her chest. He knew!
Her mind raced. Had he seen her at his father’s desk last night? But why had he not said anything then? And even if he had seen her slip the key into her pocket, how had he known which key it was? There had been several in the drawer.
The duke’s head came up, and he looked at Megan with interest. “Is that so? Are you interested in Greek and Roman art, Miss Henderson?”
“Yes, of course,” Megan lied. She imagined that there were few who could admit their disinterest in the face of the duke’s gently pleased countenance. “I—I am afraid that I don’t know much about it, though.”
“I think you should show Miss Henderson around your collection room,” Theo went on, his gaze steadily on Megan. “After supper, perhaps.”
“Why, of course. I would be most happy to, if you wish, Miss Henderson?” The duke’s voice rose slightly at the end of his sentence, making it a question.
“Thank you,” Megan responded through stiff lips. “That would be very generous of you.”
“I think you will find the collection fairly extensive for one of its kind,” the duke went on happily and started to describe some of the pieces.
Megan scarcely heard him, though she kept a pleasantly interested smile plastered on her face. She could feel Theo’s gaze on her as his father talked. She sneaked a glance at him and saw the challenge that lit his eyes.
She was certain now that he had seen her taking the key from the desk. She had underestimated him. Doubtless she had been right in thinking that he would not want to tell his father what had happened, as he wouldn’t want the good duke to know exactly how Theo had happened to discover what Megan had done. But he had neatly manipulated it so that his father would discover that the key was missing. There would be questions asked. It wouldn’t be at all unlikely if suspicion fell on her, the newest addition to the household. No doubt Theo presumed that the key was still in her possession, and, if they should institute a search of the place, that the key would be discovered there.
The heat of anger rose in Megan, shoving aside her nerves, and she looked straight back at Theo, her eyes as hard as his.
She had one thing in her favor, Megan knew. The key was not in the pocket of her skirt nor anywhere in her room. She had checked and rechecked that thoroughly. Even if Theo suggested a search, they would find nothing to incriminate her.
The rest of the meal passed with agonizing slowness. Megan had lost all hunger. She had to force down each bite of food. Pretending to listen with interest to the conversation, smiling and nodding at others’ remarks, even answering when she had to, she fumed inside, her anger at Theo growing.
A man of courage, she thought, would have confronted her last night. Instead, he had stolen kisses from her before he set her up to be discovered by his father. She should have known, of course, that he was the sort of man who would do such a thing. She knew better than anyone else the extremes of which he was capable.
When the meal was finally over, the duke escorted Megan to the study, along with Anna, who had not yet seen the collection, and her husband Reed, and Theo, who had elected to tag along. Megan felt his eyes on her, but she refused to look at him.
“I must just get the key, you see,” the duke told them when they reached his study, and he walked past them into the room.
Megan tensed, waiting, as he crossed the room to the large desk and reached inside the top left drawer. He pulled out a key, closed the drawer and started back toward them. Megan stared, astonished.
He had the key? How had it wound up back in his desk drawer?
She whipped her head around to look at Theo. He gazed back at her, saying nothing, the same faintly amused smile playing about his lips.
Megan realized that he had known the key would be there. He had played out this little charade just to show her that he knew what she had done and that the key was once more in his father’s possession.
The key must have fallen out on the floor right here in the study, Megan thought, and Theo had seen it after she left and had returned it to the drawer. She narrowed her eyes, meeting his bright green gaze. The light that she had seen in his eyes before was there again, intense and seductive. His eyes dropped slightly to her lips, and it was then that the realization struck her with all the force of a heavy stone dropped on her: Theo had taken the key from her.
She remembered how he had kissed her until she was dizzy. She remembered how his hand had crept down her side and onto her leg, sliding up and down, clenching her skirts in his fist. She had felt only the wild, delirious
passion that had thrummed through her in response to his touch. But he had used the opportunity to slip his hand into her pocket and retrieve the key.
Looking into his knowing eyes, Megan was certain that it had happened as she thought. He had kissed her just to retrieve the key!
She flushed hotly in a combination of embarrassment and anger. He had deceived her, used her own desire against her to get what he wanted. And she—she had been a fool to respond as she had, desiring him, believing that he desired her.
Megan felt as if she might choke on her fury. It was all she could do to stand there and keep silent, not to turn on him and vent all her hatred. She ached to reveal to his family what kind of villain he was and what he had done ten years ago.
But she would wait. When she revealed his wickedness, she would have the proof to back it up.
Whirling around, Megan followed the duke down the hall, carefully keeping Anna and Reed between her and Theo. She refused to look at him again. She would not give him the satisfaction of letting him see that he had upset her.
Broughton unlocked the door that lay just beyond the library and stepped into the room, turning up the gas lights. Anna and Megan followed him, the other two men bringing up the rear.
“Oh, my!” Megan said, looking around the room in some astonishment.
She knew that the duke was an avid collector, but she had not expected this museumlike room. Small tables and pedestals of varying height were scattered throughout, and on them stood statues and vases and other pottery. The walls were all lined with shelves, about half of them open, the rest closed with glass doors and locked. She did not know much about any of the periods of Greek art, but even she could tell that the duke’s collection was impressive.
“I had no idea….” Anna said, echoing Megan’s own thoughts.
The duke beamed, his pleasant face alight with joy. “It is only part of my collection. The rest is back at the Park. I have a much larger storage area there, of course.”
Megan trailed around the room, looking at the various artifacts carefully. The duke obligingly opened the locked cabinets for them, showing the smaller and more valuable pieces that lay within. Megan poked her head into each one, looking for something that might have come not from Greece or Macedonia or Italy, but from South America.
