by Candace Camp
Of course, she admitted, she knew even less about South American art and culture than she did about Greek. But it seemed to her that something from South America should stand out among the classical Greek jewelry and bowls and beads.
But nothing did. Everything fit with the duke’s obsession with classical antiquities.
Megan had more or less expected that, given the way Theo had engineered their tour. He would hardly urge her into a room where there was something that would incriminate him.
Megan took a last, careful look at a collection of jewelry—necklaces made of glass beads or chunky, semiprecious stones, carved broaches, wide metal bracelets for wrists and upper arms. She turned away, swallowing her disappointment, and found herself looking straight at Theo.
He had obviously been watching her. She wondered what he had hoped to see. Surely he could not know who she was. It made her wonder what he had thought she was up to when he caught her with the key. Did he think her a thief? That she wanted to steal what lay in the collection room?
Indignation spurted up in her at the idea. She had to admit that that would the logical thing to assume, but, still, the thought stung.
Megan turned to the duke, who was watching her and Anna like a proud father showing off his offspring.
“This is so amazing, sir,” she told him honestly. “I have never seen a private collection like this.”
Broughton beamed. “Thank you, my dear. I have spent a number of years building it.”
“It’s wonderful,” Anna agreed. She looked over at Megan, and the faintest of shadows touched Anna’s eyes.
Megan felt the same shivery sensation along her nerves as she had the first time she had met Anna. There was something about the way the woman looked at her—not always, but every once in a while, like now, or the moment they met—that made Megan feel nervous and unsettled. Anna was a perfectly nice woman; indeed, she had been quite friendly with Megan, and Megan liked her. But she could not help but feel that Anna knew more about her than she should.
“Do you ever collect anything else?” Megan asked, as much to distract Anna as anything else. “Other than things from Greco-Roman culture, I mean?”
The duke looked faintly surprised. “More modern things?” He shook his head. “I am afraid not. No interest, you see. The Middle Ages, the Renaissance—there were lovely things, of course, but they just haven’t the same appeal.”
“Nothing from other parts of the world?” Megan asked lightly. “China, say, or India?”
“Oh, no. Theo here is more likely to have that kind of thing. He has been all over the world.” The duke said the words with the faint astonishment of a man who had rarely seen any reason to stir from his home.
“You have a collection, too?” Anna asked Theo, and Megan was grateful for the words, which saved her from having to ask.
Theo shrugged. “No. Only a few things in my room. I don’t usually bring a great deal home. My primary interest is in seeing the places.”
His room. Megan knew that was where she would have to look next. She didn’t want to. Even the thought of being in his room did strange things to her insides. It wasn’t fear, she knew…or, at least, not exactly. It was a combination of emotions that roiled in her in a way she did not even want to contemplate.
She would have to go there eventually, she knew. She would wait until some evening when she knew he was gone for several hours, and then she would sneak in and search the place. But if she didn’t find anything there, she was not sure what she would do.
There was the Morelands’ house in the country, of course. The evidence she needed was just as likely to be there. But she knew that the family would not be retiring there until after the season was over. She could not wait that long—and she was certain she would be unable to carry off her pretense of being a teacher for that long, anyway.
The twins were bound to realize that she hadn’t the slightest idea what they were doing in their Greek lessons, and she wasn’t a whole lot better when it came to Latin and higher mathematics. There had even been a few times when she had looked at Con or Alex and wondered if they already knew that she was floundering, completely over her head, in those subjects. The boys seemed to like her and her teaching style; it was quite possible, she thought, that they had guessed she was not competent as a tutor and were simply keeping quiet about it.
But some other family member would be bound to notice, sooner or later. And, indeed, she felt a trifle guilty, knowing that because of her, the boys might very well lag behind their peers in certain subjects.
She needed to discover something, and soon. Megan wished that her father and Deirdre could go to Broughton Park and search the place. She didn’t know how it might be accomplished, but next Sunday, when she had the day off, she would visit them and discuss the matter of the second house.
In the meantime, she would have to do something else to further her case.
The group, having finished their tour, was beginning to drift out the door, and Megan moved along with the others, her mind worrying at her problem.
When she reached the door, she turned to the duke, saying, “Good evening, your grace, and thank you again for showing me your collection.”
“No trouble at all, my dear,” Broughton assured her, smiling. “But aren’t you coming back to the sitting room? Con and Alex have a dandy puzzle going.”
Megan smiled. Her pupils had informed her that the duke was almost as fond as Con was of jigsaw puzzles, and he spent many an evening working on them with his sons.
“Thank you,” she replied honestly. “But I fear I am rather tired. I should retire early, I think.”
The fact was, she was rather fond of puzzles herself and would have enjoyed working on one, but she was coming to realize that the less time she spent with this family, the better. She was already liking them far more than was good for her. There was no point in making it any more painful when she had to reveal to them what Theo had done.
“Come, Miss Henderson, surely a little time spent relaxing would be good for you,” Theo said persuasively. “A card game, perhaps. Or Anna might be persuaded to play a few tunes on the piano. Or, if you prefer, Mother has been reading up on the educational ideas of Bronson Alcott, and I am sure she would love to discuss them with you.”
There was a twinkle in his eye as he said this, and Megan knew he was hoping once again to trip her up.
“Oh, yes,” she said, looking him straight in the eye, her chin going up challengingly. Thank heavens for that article she had written on the New England experiments in education. “The conversational method. It is quite interesting.”
“Hardly relaxing for Miss Henderson, Theo,” Reed put in. “Since she has spent her whole day educating the twins. No doubt she would welcome a few hours sans Morelands.”
“Of course,” Theo agreed easily. “I apologize, Miss Henderson. No doubt you have been staying up too late preparing the twins’ lessons.”
Megan shot him a daggerlike look, well aware of his jibe at her late-night activities, though she knew none of the others would be.
“Yes,” she replied smoothly. “And I have a long day planned tomorrow.” She turned back to the duke. “I would like to take the twins on an educational outing tomorrow, if that is all right with you, sir.”
The idea had just occurred to her, and it was, she thought, perfect. She had been longing to get out of the house. Used as she was to being out and about, chasing down her stories, the walls of Broughton House, elegant as they were, were beginning to feel rather restrictive. Besides, she needed to interview Julian Coffey, the other Englishman who had gone on the trip with Barchester, Theo and her brother. A trip to the museum where he was curator would serve both purposes, and she could do it under the guise of tutoring the twins.
“An outing, eh?” The duke smiled. “That sounds interesting.”
“Yes, it does,” Theo added, studying her. “Where are you planning to take Con and Alex?”
“To a mus
eum,” Megan answered shortly.
“Museum?” Broughton’s smile grew. “That sounds quite jolly. I am sure the twins would enjoy it.” He paused, then added, his smile fading, “Um…are you quite sure you are up to it? The twins, you know, well…and you’re unfamiliar with the city.”
“Don’t worry, Father,” Theo said pleasantly. “I will volunteer to go along and keep an eye on Con and Alex.”
The older man’s face cleared. “That will be just the thing.” He smiled widely at Megan. “You should have no problem.”
“Thank you, your grace,” Megan replied with a smile for the kindly duke, but she turned a stony stare on Theo as she went on, “but it really won’t be necessary. The twins and I will be fine on our own.”
“No, I insist,” Theo replied, his affable tone underlaid by steel. The face he turned to her was as implacable as his voice. “Really, Miss Henderson.”
Megan’s smile was more of a grimace as she shot back, “No, please, Lord Raine, I will not allow you to put yourself out. I am quite capable of finding my way about a city.”
“I am sure you are. But as a gentleman, I cannot allow you. We shall take the carriage.”
“No doubt Con and Alex and I could take the carriage without your accompanying us. You needn’t bother.”
The other three people with them stood watching Theo and Megan with interest, their heads swinging from one to the other throughout their sharply polite exchange.
“Now, now, Miss Henderson,” the duke said, patting her arm and smiling benignly at her. “You must let Theo accompany you. It takes at least two people to keep an eye on Constantine and Alexander.”
“Of course.” Megan gritted her teeth and gave in with as much grace as she could muster. She could scarcely refuse her employer’s order, even one given as graciously as the duke’s. “Thank you.”
The look she turned toward Theo was anything but grateful. “We shall leave early.”
His eyes dancing with inner amusement, Theo gave her a short, precise bow. “I shall be ready.”
Damn the man! How could he manage to thwart her at every turn when he didn’t even know what she planned?
It was excessively frustrating. She didn’t want Theo to know that she was going to the Cavendish Museum, let alone have him accompany her there.
Megan itched to slap Theo’s smug face. Instead, she turned on her heel and swept away.
CHAPTER 9
Megan hurried the twins through breakfast the next morning, hoping to get out the door before Theo appeared. Much to her chagrin, when she and the boys came down the stairs, Theo was standing by the front door waiting for them, arms folded.
“Theo!” Alex cried out gleefully. “Are you coming with us?”
“Do!” Con urged.
“Yes, I’m coming. Didn’t Miss Henderson tell you?” He cast a wicked grin at Megan.
“I was not sure that you would be able to accompany us,” Megan retorted in a frosty tone.
“You doubted me?” Theo’s green eyes danced, and he leaned closer, murmuring, “Or did you just think that you could sneak away without me?’
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Megan swept toward the front door, and the footman jumped to pull it open for her.
Theo and the boys followed.
Con cast an eye up at Theo and whispered, “Is she in a snit? She’s acting just like Kyria when she’s in a snit.”
“I’m not sure,” Theo replied. “Do you think an American snit looks the same as a British one?”
The three glanced at Megan, then back at each other, and nodded, bursting into laughter. Megan cast a sharp glance back at them.
No doubt Theo was enlisting her charges against her, she thought darkly. Well, let him. Perhaps she would be able to saddle him with the twins so she could slip away to talk to the museum’s director.
The ducal carriage stood in front of the house, the coachman waiting patiently to open the door and hand Megan up into the vehicle. The twins bounced in after her and plopped down side by side in their usual way on the seat across from her. This left Theo to sit down beside Megan. She managed with some effort not to turn her head to look at him.
“Where are we going?” Theo asked cheerfully. “The British Museum?”
“No!” Con and Alex chorused. “The Cavendish!”
“The Cavendish?” Theo repeated in surprise.
Megan turned. “Yes. The twins said they had never gone, and I thought it better to start out on a lesser scale than the British Museum.” She lifted her brows a little. “Is there some problem?”
Theo shrugged. “No. Of course not. The Cavendish it is.”
He leaned out to tell the driver, and the carriage rumbled off.
“It will help a lot to have Theo with us,” Alex confided to Megan.
“Indeed? Why is that?”
“He knows all about the stuff at the Cavendish,” Con explained. “Don’t you, Theo? He’s been there.”
“To the museum?” Megan asked, as if she knew nothing about it.
Alex and Con chuckled. “No. To South America. That’s what the Cavendish has—South American things.”
“The Cavendish specializes in objects from Central and South America,” Theo said, his voice blank of any emotion. “Ancient civilizations, primarily—Aztec, Maya, Inca.”
“I see.” Megan looked at Theo. His face was as unrevealing as his tone of voice. “It is an unusual specialty, don’t you think?”
Theo shrugged. “The director is something of an expert in the area.”
“I take it you must be one, as well,” Megan said, still watching him for any change of expression.
“Con and Alex tend to exaggerate, I’m afraid,” Theo said, his gaze flickering to the boys. “I have been up the Amazon once, that is all.”
“That must have been quite exciting,” Megan remarked. “When did you go?”
“Ten years ago.” Something changed in his face, hardened. He turned his head to look out the window.
Guilt, Megan thought. It was obvious that he did not want to talk about his trip. Who would, if they had done what he had done? Her heart squeezed a little in her chest at this confirmation that she was right, and she realized, with some surprise, that somewhere deep inside her, she had been hoping that she would be proved wrong, that some other explanation for what had happened to Dennis would arise. She did not want Theo to be guilty.
She, too, turned to look out the window, not wanting her emotions to show. It was foolish and wrong, she told herself, even to wish that Theo Moreland would turn out not to have killed Dennis. She felt as if she were betraying her brother by entertaining such a thought.
Theo Moreland was her enemy. Just because he had not revealed to his father that she had tried to steal the key to his collection room did not make him kind or a friend. He was merely playing some game of his own. Look at the way he had grinned at her last night, taunting her with his knowledge of what she had done—and look at how he had forced his way into this field trip. And it didn’t even bear mentioning that he had kissed her the other night just as a means to slip the key from her pocket.
She told herself that the problem was that she had unexpectedly liked all the Morelands so much. She did not want the duchess or the twins or any of the others to have to learn that their beloved heir was a murderer. Her desire to absolve him had nothing to do with the fiery heat of their kisses the other evening or the way her heart turned over when he smiled at her. She was not that weak, that ruled by the flesh.
Megan unconsciously straightened her shoulders. She would do what she had to do. She would follow through with this investigation and not falter, no matter how likeable the Moreland family was—and no matter how treacherously heat quivered through her body when Theo was near.
In keeping with her resolve, she ignored Theo during the remainder of the drive to the Cavendish Museum. When they arrived, however, she could not completely ignore him, as he stepped down from the
carriage before her and offered his hand to help her down. It was a gesture that she could not politely refuse, so she was forced to slip her hand into his as she emerged from the carriage. However, she steeled herself against any sensation and turned her attention quickly from Theo’s face to the structure that lay before them.
Cavendish House, though perhaps no longer in a fashionable area, was a magnificent structure. Built of massive gray stone in the baroque style, it was reputed to have been designed by the master English architect Sir Christopher Wren, along with a great many other buildings during the vast rebuilding of London after the Great Fire. Megan had found a guidebook of London in the large Moreland library, as well as a thick volume on the work of Wren, and she had read everything about the Cavendish, as it was called. She had learned that it was quite a bit larger even than Broughton House, and there was still a good bit of grounds around the house itself, including a pleasant garden behind the museum.
They entered the building behind the twins and were greeted by a slender young man who apparently recognized Theo and seemed overcome by the prospect of meeting him.
“Lord Raine,” he gushed. “What an honor to have you here. Please allow me to get Mr. Coffey. I am sure that he would wish to show you around the museum personally.”
Meeting Coffey in the presence of Theo was the last thing Megan wanted, so she was glad when Theo said shortly, “No. Don’t bother him. I am sure we will be able to find our way about ourselves.”
The young man continued to bow and babble as they started down the hall, and Megan was afraid that he would follow them all through the house, but, much to her relief, after a few more obsequious questions and comments, he disappeared.
The twins darted from exhibit to exhibit, which ran the gamut from stuffed jaguars, parrots and monkeys to re-creations of narrow native crafts used to navigate the mighty Amazon, to ancient gold and silver artifacts locked in glass cases. To Megan, who knew little about South America or its indigenous ancient tribes, the place was fascinating.
