An Unexpected Pleasure

by Candace Camp

  “Did he tell you this recently?” Theo asked. “Perhaps it was some wild idea he had years ago, just because he was so upset over Dennis’s death, and over the years he has realized that it wasn’t true.”

  “No. He told Deirdre and me just a few weeks ago—right before I came to work here.”

  “Deirdre?” Theo looked at her questioningly.

  “My sister.”

  “Your sister is here? Oh…and the Irishman? Is that your father?”

  Megan nodded. “Yes. The three of us came over to…” she met his gaze squarely “…to find proof that you killed my brother. To bring you to justice for it.”

  To her surprise, he smiled a little. “And exactly what did you hope to find in my bedroom?”

  Megan blushed, but tilted her chin and said, “Something that you and Dennis might have quarreled over. Something precious to him that you might have taken from him. A pendant, perhaps.”

  “A pendant?” His brows flew upward, his body stiffening a little. “What do you mean, a pendant?”

  “I’m not sure.” Megan studied him, aware of the subtle difference in him. Why had his demeanor changed when she mentioned the necklace? “It seemed to us that if it was an object, it would have to be something rather small and easily carried, yet still valuable. Jewelry seemed a likely thing. And when we asked Barchester if he had seen you hiding anything after Dennis’s death, he mentioned a necklace of some sort. A pendant. He said he saw you take it out from beneath your shirt and look at it from time to time.”

  “I see.” Theo’s eyes were unreadable. “Interesting.”

  Doubt quivered in Megan. “Was there a pendant? Did Dennis give you anything like that?”

  “No. I had nothing of Dennis’s. I did carry something…that was of importance to me.” He paused, looking at her consideringly, then shook his head. “It was nothing to do with Dennis.”

  Megan’s curiosity was fully aroused now. “What was it?”

  “Something given to me by someone else. A woman.”

  “Oh. I see.” Megan’s voice turned frosty.

  She did not care, she told herself, if Theo had carried some token from a woman he had loved. It was, after all, many years ago, and in any case, it made no difference to her.

  Theo was still regarding her steadily, and Megan felt suddenly uneasy at what he might read in her face. She stood up and strolled away, stopping and looking down at a piece of statuary as though it held her interest.

  “What will you do now?” Theo asked, and Megan turned to look at him, surprised.

  “What? Oh. Yes, of course. I—I no longer need to pretend to be the twins’ tutor,” she said, her spirits sinking at the thought.

  What was she to do now? she wondered. If what Theo said was true—and she was certain in her heart that it was—there was no reason for her to continue to spy on him. She knew now how her brother had died, and that the man who had killed him was a world away in a remote village. Her family would never really know the reason why he had been killed, and his killer could scarcely be brought to justice.

  She squared her shoulders, swallowing something that felt very much like tears. “I shall tell the duchess the truth, and of course I will resign.”

  Megan hated the thought of facing the duchess’s dislike almost as much as she hated the idea of leaving this house.

  Theo, seeing her expression, smiled. “My mother can be a bit daunting. She doesn’t like lies. However, I think you will find that she can be quite understanding, as well. And of more importance to her than your qualifications will, I think, be the impression she has formed about you from being around you. I will accompany you when you have your interview with her, if you like.”

  Megan looked surprised, and it touched her that he would help her in that way, despite what she had thought about him.

  “Thank you. That is very kind. But I think that I should deal with the duchess on my own.”

  “Of course,” Theo was too accustomed to independent women to object. He would simply talk to his mother on his own. “You know, there are still some loose ends you need to tie up. For instance, the man who was following you or having you followed.”

  “Besides your man, you mean?” Megan quirked an eyebrow. It still aggravated her that he had had her followed—almost as much because she had not seen the man as because Theo had done it.

  “I must find out why Mr. Barchester lied to me, as well,” she went on. She hesitated, then added, “I did not tell you quite all I remember about being hit on the head tonight.”

  “Really? You shock me,” Theo responded dryly.

  Megan grimaced at him. “When I came to, I didn’t remember anything past leaving the ballroom. I was following Mr. Coffey. But later I remembered that I went after him and then I heard someone on the back stairs going down to the basement. So I followed him. I didn’t see Coffey anywhere, but I did see Mr. Barchester walking down the hall. I thought it was strange that he was in the basement.”

  “There seem to have been a number of people down there,” Theo murmured. “You are sure it was the basement?”

  “Of course I’m sure. The blow didn’t rattle my brains enough that I don’t know down from up,” Megan retorted tartly. “I don’t know how I ended up on the second floor. I may have followed him up there. Or maybe whoever knocked me out carried me up there. I still can’t remember being hit on the head. But it is possible, I suppose, that Barchester could have seen me, then doubled back and hit me over the head.”

  “Or that someone else took advantage of an opportunity to get rid of a troublesome snoop.”

  Megan sent him a quelling look. “At any rate, it is enough to make me wonder exactly what Mr. Barchester is up to. And I still want to interview Mr. Coffey. I will need someone else’s word to convince my father that you are not Dennis’s murderer. He has believed it for so many years, and he does not know you as well as I do. And he—” She shot him an apologetic glance. “My father tends to be somewhat prejudiced against the English, especially English noblemen.”

  Theo grinned. “Having been acquainted with some other Irishmen, I am not really surprised. And you are right. It would help if you had some corroboration from Coffey.” He paused, then added, “I would like to accompany you when you talk to both of them, if you don’t mind.”

  Megan’s heart grew immediately lighter. “All right. That would…I would like that.”

  Theo’s smile was slow, and Megan’s heart took a hard, slow thump at the sight of it. “I would like that, too.”

  She felt suddenly breathless and ill at ease, and she had the irritating suspicion that she was beginning to blush. She glanced toward the door. “Well…I should…rest now.”

  “You have had a busy evening,” Theo concurred. He watched her as she walked to the door and opened it. “Megan…”

  She turned and looked back at him, brows lifting slightly in inquiry.

  “Did you mean what you said earlier…?” he asked, his eyes intent on hers. “About despising my touch?”

  Color bloomed on her cheeks, matching the warmth that filled her loins. “No,” she said, the words coming out in a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t mean it at all.”

  She turned and hurried from the room.

  CHAPTER 16

  Megan was surprised, the next morning, to find that her interview with the duchess was neither as long nor as difficult as she had expected. The duchess was an imposing woman, but she listened to Megan’s explanation with a quiet attentiveness and an astonishing lack of rancor that led Megan to suspect that this was not the first time Theo’s mother had heard the story.

  She knew she should resent the fact that Theo had obviously stolen a march on her and told the duchess all about her deception, but, frankly, Megan was glad that she was not having to face the older woman’s first reaction. She suspected that the duchess’s cool blue eyes could light with a temper to match her red hair, particularly if danger threatened one of her beloved children.

&nbs
p; When Megan at last finished her statement, pleased that her voice had trembled only slightly, and added a final, heartfelt apology, the Duchess of Broughton regarded her for a moment, then sighed.

  “I am sure you are aware, Miss Mulcahey, that I abhor lying,” she told her calmly, rising from her chair and beginning to pace. “However, in this instance, I suppose there was a certain amount of reason to your charade. Not knowing my son, you could not have realized before you came here that any tale of his murdering someone was bound to be nonsensical. And I cannot disdain the sort of love and loyalty for your brother that impelled you to try to bring down his murderer.”

  “Thank you, your grace,” Megan said, making a point of getting the troublesome form of address correct. “You are very generous.”

  “I am merely truthful,” the duchess responded. There was a twinkle in her eye as she went on, “I must confess that I was not entirely convinced of your qualifications, as Rafe had cabled the school where you received your training and received the less-than-reassuring news that it had closed down. Also, Anna experienced some…troubling feelings regarding you. Not, let me hasten to assure you, that she did not dislike you. She does like you, which made her doubts all the more upsetting to her. However, I trusted my instincts and those of the twins enough to let you continue for the moment. I was rather pleased, quite frankly, when Theo told me this morning what you were really doing here. It is so much more pleasant than thinking you were perhaps a thief.”

  Megan struggled to keep from looking as astonished as she felt. “I—I don’t know what to say.” She smiled a little ruefully. “Obviously I must not have been as clever as I thought.”

  The duchess smiled back at her. “Oh, you were clever enough, Miss Mulcahey. However, it is a mistake sometimes to confuse an easygoing manner with carelessness.”

  “I can see that. I want you to know, ma’am, that I have been much torn, knowing the pain that what I believed was the truth would have caused you and your family. I am extremely fond of Alexander and Constantine.”

  “As they are of you, my dear. Of course, I will begin to look for another tutor for the twins.” The duchess looked somewhat downcast at the thought. “In the meantime, I do hope that you will continue to stay with us as our guest.”

  Megan stared, completely caught off guard by the request. “You want me to stay here? After what I have done?”

  “Why, yes. We are all quite fond of you, not just the twins. And Theo tells me that you and he are going to look into the matter of this Mr. Barchester’s lies about Theo. It would seem the easiest thing for you to remain here. I do hope that your father and sister will come to meet us. Theo has told me how close he was to your brother.”

  “Of—of course,” Megan agreed, her mind boggling a little at the thought of suggesting to her father that he call on the Duchess of Broughton.

  “And if it would not be too much trouble…the twins seem to be doing so well under your tutelage. They are much more willing to work on their studies and stay out of mischief when you are overseeing them. If you could simply check on their work, keep them going in the right direction—only a few minutes a day, really—while I look for another tutor?” The duchess paused, looking hopeful and a little worried.

  “Of course,” Megan agreed readily. “I will be more than happy to work with them.”

  She started to take her leave, only to have the duchess hold up a hand and say, “By the way, my dear, if you are not a teacher, I confess I am rather curious. All those things that we talked about—the experimental teaching, the problems in the slums. What exactly is it you do, then?”

  Megan smiled. “I work for a newspaper.”

  “A newspaper? Really? How fascinating. Then the things we discussed—”

  “I have written stories about them.”

  The duchess brightened considerably. “I would so love to hear about them. Come here, my dear. Sit down and tell me about what you’ve written.”

  Megan left the study a good thirty minutes later, feeling somewhat dazed. Things never went as one expected with the Morelands, she reflected.

  Eager to atone for her deception with the duchess, she put in a full morning tutoring the twins. A good portion of it was spent going over the same territory she had covered with the duchess that morning. The twins, however, were far more interested in her brother’s death in the jungles of South America and her own plan to unmask his killer than in any of the social ills she had uncovered as a reporter.

  She did not ask how they had so quickly found out about the matter. The twins were never far behind any news in the family. Megan suspected that it had much to do with their habit of hanging about in the kitchen, cadging snacks from the cook and listening to the servants’ gossip.

  Their suspicion, they were quick to tell her, fell on Andrew Barchester.

  “Sounds like a wrong ’un,” Alex confided. “I bet that it’s him who really killed Dennis.”

  “But how? He was back at the base camp,” Megan pointed out.

  Con shrugged. “Why else would he lie about Theo that way? He must be covering something up.”

  “Maybe he followed them,” Alex suggested. “Maybe he didn’t like being left behind while the others went off on the adventure.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Con agreed.

  “Yeah, and so he sneaked out after them. Spied on them.”

  “And dressed up like a priest and killed Dennis?” Megan asked skeptically. “Why would he do that?”

  Con shrugged. “Don’t know. That’s what you and Theo’ll have to figure out. My guess is he was stealing stuff, and your brother caught him.”

  “Maybe he dressed up like that so they wouldn’t know it was him,” Alex supplied triumphantly. “You know, when he was stealing the stuff.”

  “And that’s why they figured it was a priest.”

  “He doesn’t really seem like a killer,” Megan opined.

  “Well, they don’t, do they?” Alex answered unarguably. “Like that chap that tried to kill Kyria. Seemed regular enough.”

  “Someone tried to kill Kyria?” Megan asked, astonished.

  “Oh, yes,” Con answered, as if it were quite an ordinary event. “Before she married Rafe.”

  “I never knew life in England was so risky,” Megan commented.

  “It’s not, usually,” Con assured her.

  “It’s something about our family,” Alex added. “We have a bit more fun, I think, than most of the peerage.”

  They spent another good portion of their study time regaling Megan with stories of the adventures that various members of their family had embarked upon. It was some time before she was able to pull them back to the subject of medieval history.

  After lunch, Theo arrived in the schoolroom. His gaze slid over Megan, and heat began to spark along her veins even though he said nothing. She moved a cautious step back from him as he turned to the twins. Megan had spent far too much of the largely sleepless night before contemplating her relationship with Theo, and none of the answers she had come up with had given her any optimism.

  She was far too attracted to him. Even though she no longer believed that he was responsible for her brother’s death, there were too many obstacles between them. A future duke, even in a family as unconventional as the Morelands, did not go about marrying an American nobody. There had been marriages between English blue bloods and American heiresses, where the American money made up for the woman’s lack of appropriate ancestors. But Megan was no heiress, and Broughton had both too much fortune and integrity for the title to be up for sale in that manner.

  The truth of the matter, she knew, was that Theo Moreland could not, would not, marry a New York newspaper reporter. And she was not the sort of woman who would settle for anything else. The passion that all too often flared between them, therefore, was destined to go no further.

  Megan was too honest not to admit that Theo had an effect on her that no other man had ever had. It took only the sight of him to arou
se a heavy ache deep in her loins and a tingling all over her skin. She wanted him. She might even be skating perilously close to falling in love with him. But she was not foolish enough to let that happen.

  After all, she was not a starry-eyed dreamer like her sister. She was a woman who knew how the world worked. And she had no intention of getting into a situation she could not handle. She had kept her heart—and her virtue—intact this long, and she intended to continue that way.

  Therefore, when at last Theo got the twins shuffled off to their class with Thisbe, Megan turned to him with a businesslike air, ignoring the smile he aimed at her.

  “I am ready to talk to Mr. Barchester,” she said briskly.

  He raised an eyebrow at her abrupt manner, but said only, “Yes. I’ve sent for the carriage.”

  Megan got her hat and gloves and busied herself with putting them on as they went down the stairs, thus neatly avoiding the arm Theo offered her. He looked at her a trifle warily, but again said nothing.

  But when she stepped up into the carriage without putting her hand in the one he offered, he swung in quickly after her and asked, “Have you changed your mind about me? Have I become the villain again?”

  “What?” She looked at him, but her eyes dropped before his penetrating gaze. “No, of course not. Don’t be absurd.”

  “Then why are you acting as if I have the plague?”

  “I am not. That’s nonsense.”

  “Then why can you not look at me?”

  Megan lifted her head in response and looked directly into his face. She didn’t like the way her insides quivered when she looked at him, but she ignored the sensation.

  “We are going to interview Mr. Barchester together,” she said firmly. “That doesn’t mean…”

  She faltered as he turned a politely inquiring gaze upon her. It occurred to her that there was no way to express her thoughts on the matter of their relationship without revealing how foolishly attracted to him she was.

  “Yes?” he urged her. “It doesn’t mean what?”

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” she finished lamely and turned to look out the window. She continued after a moment, “You are still Lord Raine, and I am still Megan Mulcahey from New York.”