“It’s a piece of carved wood. It isn’t staring at you.”
“It certainly seemed to be staring at you.”
“Well, now it’s going to roll off the table.”
She was right. With all the repeated shifting, the item had been left too close to the edge and was just about to totter off onto the floor. Instinctively, they both reached out to save it. Harris was fastest, grabbing it and pulling it away from her as if he’d won some kind of prize.
“Ha!”
“Oh, don’t be a child. Put that down before you break it,” she said, reaching to take it from him.
“It won’t break. It’s solid wood.”
But she had her hands on it and was giving a good tug. “It’s ancient! It shouldn’t be handled like that!”
“Then perhaps you should let go and let me do the handling.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
“I’ll wager I know a fair bit more than you do!”
“Is that an insult to my education or my ability, sir?”
“You may trust my education, Miss Rastmoor, and I promise that you are handling it far too roughly.”
“If you would just give it to me, then—”
Her demands were cut off by a loud clearing of the throat. Harris gritted his teeth and turned his head to see they were not alone. Lady Burlington had apparently entered the room to retire. And now she found them thrusting a giant phallus back and forth.
Miss Rastmoor must have realized the oddity of the situation. She squeaked and immediately took her hands off the object. Unfortunately, so did Harris. Without the squeak.
The phallus clattered to the floor between them.
“Aha,” he said, giving Miss Rastmoor a triumphant grin. “I told you it would not break.”
PENELOPE COULD HAVE POSITIVELY DIED. WHAT HAD she been thinking, to let herself get sucked into Lord Harry’s juvenile behavior? Arguing over the artifact as if it were a child’s toy. Ridiculous! Thank heavens she had no reason to suspect the man might have even the slightest clue what the object in question actually was. Likely he thought it was some sort of crude animal carving, accusing it of staring at him, of all things. Honestly, the man must be half-blind.
But Lady Burlington did not seem to be. She, in fact, seemed to see quite well.
“Apparently I’m interrupting. You’ve dropped something, Lord Harry.”
“Why Lady Burlington, how nice to see you. Dressed.”
That last word was uttered rather softly under Lord Harry’s breath. Penelope assumed she’d heard incorrectly.
“So the rumors I’ve heard are true,” the woman fairly purred, stepping into the room and smiling first at Lord Harry and then at Penelope. “I suppose I should be wishing you happy, although it appears you hardly need my wishes.”
“Oh, but you misjudge the situation, Lady Burlington,” Lord Harry began.
Penelope was more than a bit interested to hear what excuse he might invent to explain what the woman had just walked in on, but she knew she could hardly allow him to continue. Of course he would try to protect her reputation and claim there was nothing untoward happening here, but it could only do him damage if people were to learn he’d been breaking into Lord Burlington’s house to meet with a mere servant girl. Indeed, that news would damage him as well as any credibility they’d built for their own supposed union.
No, she’d best not let the man do anything noble at this point. Besides, she really didn’t want anyone questioning why she’d been lingering over these artifacts so long, either. If there were underhanded dealings with forgers, she hated to risk alerting them to her suspicions.
“Thank you for your well wishes, Lady Burlington,” Penelope said quickly. “And I’m sure this must look very awkward, the two of us here together, all alone, in such close proximity…but we are to be married, after all. Surely Lord Harry’s noble intentions can be trusted.”
Even Lord Harry snorted at that one. Indeed, as she’d expected, the man had no noble intentions. It was just as well she’d found him here before he’d had further opportunity to take advantage of that poor maid who clearly had no idea of his character. Penelope would be sure to warn the girl.
“Usually young ladies take more care not to be found alone with their gentleman, Miss Rastmoor,” Lady Burlington said with a smirk. “I fear Lord Harry has led you astray.”
“Of course not. Lord Harry is the very model of propriety. But come, sir, perhaps we should allow Lady Burlington some privacy. You and I will simply have to find a quiet corner elsewhere to continue our…conversation.”
She knew, of course, the woman would not for one minute believe they’d been deep in conversation or that there was any part of Lord Harry that so much as resembled propriety, let alone be the model for it. Indeed, this brief encounter would likely be more than enough to get Lady Burlington’s tongue wagging quite fluently. The gossips would be convinced Penelope was fully enamored with the disreputable man, and Anthony would begin to change his mind about things.
She laid her hand on Lord Harry’s arm for him to lead her from the room. True, she hadn’t gotten the full description of that alabaster jar or any of the other artifacts, but she supposed she could remember enough of them to send a fair report to Professor Oldham. It was time she and her fiancé took their leave.
Lord Harry seemed to agree. He laid his hand over Penelope’s and gave Lady Burlington a very pretty bow.
“Good evening, Lady Burlington. I hope we run into you again sometime,” he said.
“Oh, I have no doubt you will, Lord Harry. It seems you and I have been rather stumbling over one another of late.”
“Yes, it does seem so, now that you mention it.”
The lady laughed. “How unexpected, too, since our motivations are so dramatically different.” She sent a quick, disapproving glance over Penelope.
“Yes, they are,” Lord Harry agreed. “So perhaps I can expect there will be no additional stumbling.”
With this nonsensical phrase he gave one more little bow and led Penelope to the door. She was quite pleased to be leaving Lady Burlington behind. She did not at all approve of the dismissive way the woman had looked at her.
They didn’t quite make it out the door, however. The young maid suddenly popped up in front of them, apparently fresh from her post in the corridor and smiling far too brightly. Penelope borrowed one of Lady Burlington’s dismissive glances and gave it to the girl. She didn’t notice.
“Lord Harry! I had no idea you were here, sir,” she said, blushing and dropping curtsies as if they might save her life.
“Hello, Milly,” he said, sounding disgustingly pleased to see the girl. “I must have missed you in the hallway when I came through.”
For a moment the girl appeared to wonder how on earth that could have been possible, but Lady Burlington was doing more of her throat clearing and got the maid’s attention.
“Oh!” the girl said, jolted to attention and turning her focus on the lady. “Here is your reticule that you left in the music room.”
She held up a little silk bag that perfectly matched Lady Burlington’s burgundy-colored gown. Lord Harry stepped aside—practically shoving Penelope out of his way—so the girl could hold it up for her ladyship. Curtsying and blushing again, the maid brushed past Lord Harry and scurried into the room, carrying the bag to its owner.
“Thank you,” Lady Burlington said, taking the bag, but hardly bothering to take her eyes from Lord Harry.
“And you’ll be happy to know that Miss Lettice’s pug is still safely upstairs,” the servant said as if she were pronouncing something grand.
Penelope noticed Lord Harry’s left eyebrow arch upward. “Miss Lettice’s pug?”
She girl turned her smile on him again. “Yes, sir. The little thing was quite persistent in trailing her ladyship around the house earlier, before he somehow got locked in the other room. He would not leave her side. It was as if she carried kidneys in her p
ockets, or something.”
“It was most disturbing,” Lady Burlington said. “Kidneys in my pockets, indeed. I’m glad Lettice has locked that little pest away so he doesn’t come to bother our guests.”
“As you’ve recovered your reticule and now have Milly here to keep you company, Lady Burlington, perhaps Miss Rastmoor and I should take our leave. I would hate to think that we’ve replaced that pug and become a bother to you.”
Lord Harry nodded politely toward her ladyship and took Penelope’s arm to guide her from the room. This time there was no additional maid to pop up and stop them. They made it safely from the room and out into the grand hallway, pulling the door shut behind them. Thankfully, they were alone again. So-called music still emanated from the music room, and apparently the rest of the guests were still in there pretending to enjoy it. No one was out here to notice them.
Lord Harry removed his hand from her arm. “It was a pleasure to see you, Miss Rastmoor, but I daresay it might be a good idea if you did not mention to anyone how we met tonight. In fact, you might not want to mention I was here at all.”
Indeed, she was inclined to agree with him. “But what of Lady Burlington? Surely she will take great joy in mentioning it.”
His dark brows knitted together. “Perhaps not. Either way, you can simply deny. If I leave here without anyone else seeing me, then it’s merely her word against yours.”
“And of course, your little friend Milly.”
“Don’t worry about her. I’ll see that she’s discreet.”
Penelope wasn’t entirely successful at keeping the snippy tone from her voice. “Yes, you do seem to have a way with her.”
He seemed about to speak to that, but polite applause from the nearby music room indicated the performance was finally at an end. If Lord Harry didn’t move quickly, Milly’s discretion would no longer make one bit of difference. Penelope decided to let the subject drop. She had far too much on her mind after discovering that room full of artifacts to worry about having to explain Lord Harry’s presence just now. Besides, the sooner he left this house the less chance he’d have of running into smiling little Milly again.
“Go,” she said. “And by the way, that large rectangular item across from us is the front door. You should use that next time you wish to enter or leave a fashionable home.”
“That will entirely depend upon the circumstances, Miss Rastmoor,” he said, giving her a very wicked smile and just the hint of a bow.
She found it a bit worrisome that her heart fluttered at the smoldering look he gave her. Then his usual air of mischief took over and he laughed, nodding at her and turning away to exit quickly and silently through the large rectangular door. No one saw. Not even a footman seemed to be on duty just then. Lord Harry was gone, and just as he said, should Lady Burlington choose to mention what she saw in the retiring room, it would simply be her word against Penelope’s.
Not that Penelope’s word held much weight these days. She slipped into the back of the music room and quickly joined in with the applause and the milling crowd. She found her way to Mamma’s side and was all smiles and politeness as they flattered and congratulated the Burlington ladies on their delightful entertainment. Penelope had to admire her mother’s acting abilities. One would actually believe the woman had enjoyed the evening. Mamma’s usual friends stopped her to catch up on the current state of Lady Castlethwait’s headdress, and it seemed no one had noticed Penelope’s disappearance at all.
This seemed to present her with a most excellent opportunity. Did she dare? Surely there could be no harm in it. Perhaps it might actually be considered a good deed. She chewed her lip and pondered.
What would Lord Harry say about it? Well, she hardly gave a fig what he might say. She would do it, and there was little he could say about it. Yes, she would do it, indeed.
Smiling at those milling around her, she wandered back out toward the entrance hall. With luck Milly would have resumed her position on the bench by now. And perhaps she would be receptive to taking a new position, as well.
She would be a lovely addition to the staff at Rastmoor House. Yes, Penelope would appreciate having another maid to assist in certain duties. And really, the girl was clearly not appreciated here. Nor was she watched carefully if she was able to plan a clandestine tryst with the likes of Lord Harry.
Why yes, Penelope would be doing a good turn to rescue the girl from this house. And from Lord Harry.
Chapter Seven
Harris loitered in the shadows outside Lord Burlington’s house. The Rastmoor ladies seemed to be some of the first to depart the evening’s musicale, but nothing in their actions gave him reason to suspect Lady Burlington had caused trouble for Penelope by announcing what she’d interrupted. Or rather, what she’d thought she’d interrupted. He supposed he owed the girl quite a debt for playing her part so enthusiastically.
At first he’d wondered why she’d been so willing to implicate herself in what that matron obviously suspected, but then of course he realized it would play remarkably well into Penelope’s plans. If her brother were to get word of a secret assignation right under the noses of their very best friends, he would certainly have cause to question Harris’s value as husband material. Indeed, not only did Penelope’s playacting protect him from being caught in his real goal, but it seemed to suit her purpose quite well. He could count on her to keep up appearances.
He wasn’t so certain he could count on Lady Burlington for as much, however. It might only be a coincidence, of course, but how strange that he’d encountered her twice now while prowling around the home. He’d have to take care that it did not happen again. She was just the sort who might start to question why. If she’d come in and he’d not had Penelope there with him to concoct a plausible explanation, things might have gotten a bit uncomfortable.
As if things hadn’t begun uncomfortably enough with that blasted chit hitting him over the head with an ancient phallus. What could the girl possibly have been thinking? If he’d been an honest burglar she’d have merely succeeded in making him angry. She’d have been an easy mark, all alone as she’d been in that room full of antiquities. Lucky for her it had been him and not any of the dozens of other sorry criminals who might want to get their hands on Burlington’s collection.
As if any of it truly was Burlington’s. Damn the man, but he’d clearly been far more involved in this whole business than Harris had suspected. Oh, certainly he’d followed the trail and knew Burlington had received some of the stolen goods, but obviously it was more than just some. It was practically all. And that meant Burlington was not merely an unsuspecting collector, but was involved in marketing these stolen goods. If Harris did not act quickly, Burlington would sell off those items one piece at a time and they’d be scattered all over the kingdom. There would be little hope of getting them back after that. The law favored those in possession and gave little credit to the origin of antiquities.
The Egyptian government was hardly a solid entity capable of preserving its treasures for its people. No, antiquities went to the first man who dug them up and claimed them for himself. Professor Oldham was considered a fool by many for his outlandish notions of preserving his discoveries for the people of that foreign land, only sending a few of his finds home to England to be enjoyed and studied here. No wonder certain factions of Egyptian people found him so hard to believe. Their distrust of an honorable man now meant Harris was forced to resort to thievery.
He hated it, but he’d do it to save the man. All he needed to do was figure out a way to get back into Burlington’s house and spirit away several cartloads of fragile antiquities. Then he simply needed to find the rest of them. The jewels.
He still had no idea where those items had gone. He’d seen no trace in that room tonight of the breathtaking ornaments that had once been a part of this collection. Did Burlington have them? Or had they been distributed separately? The fact that Penelope proudly wore that pretty little scarab seemed to indicate tha
t might indeed be the case.
It was a bit shameful that he’d been in company with the girl so many times now and still was not one step closer to learning anything about how she she’d come by her scarab. Clearly he’d let himself become distracted from the goal, and he simply could not allow that to continue. Indeed, Penelope was a bit of a distraction. But he was not some desperate schoolboy. He knew what he was about.
Time was wasting and he could ill afford dawdling. Professor Oldham’s life depended on him. No matter what he had to do, he would not let the good man down. Penelope, on the other hand, would surely regret what had to be.
THE LETTER WAS A BIT MORE DIFFICULT TO WRITE than she’d expected. Surely Professor Oldham would want accurate descriptions, but Penelope was finding these rather hard to come by. It seemed no sooner would she begin picturing one of the objects from last night than images of Lord Harry would flood her mind and she’d find herself hopelessly distracted. What a bother that gentleman was!
And why had he come through the window that way? Surely if he and the empty-headed maid were set on conducting an affair, the girl could have found an easier way to smuggle her lover into the house than to expect him to climb through the window into a supposedly locked room. And if that room had been locked, how did Lord Harry expect his little tart to come meet him in there? Clearly the man’s head was in a muddle over the girl.
That left Penelope in quite a prickly mood. She’d been far too lenient with the man last night. Hadn’t she meant to tell him just how displeased she was that he would be conducting himself so shamelessly where that maid was concerned, when in public he was supposed to be engaged to her? How had he managed to avoid the sharp words she’d been preparing for him?
Because he’d startled her, crawling in through the window like that. And then, of course, she’d felt so bad for having hit him. Well, she’d thought him a burglar. What else could she have done? But heavens, what she’d hit him with!
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