An Unexpected Pleasure (The Mad Morelands #4)(102)

“Megan!” Dennis expostulated. “It is too dangerous.”

“I am quite grown up now, and you don’t have to play the big brother anymore,” Megan retorted.

They began to talk over each other, and Theo crossed his arms and settled down to watch the two of them with an expression of amused interest.

But before they had gotten into a good wrangle, there was the sound of a commotion in the hallway and a footman’s voice raised in exclamations, and above it all floated a voice, with a thick Irish accent.

“Don’t you be telling me what I can or cannot do, you puffed-up, pompous little British—”

Another voice entered the fray. “Papa! Please. I am sure that Megan is all right.”

“Mr. Mulcahey.” This was an educated English accent, somewhat anxious sounding.

“Da!” Megan and Dennis exclaimed softly.

“And Barchester,” Theo added grimly.

“Devil take you, you’ll not be hiding me daughter from me!” Frank Mulcahey burst out.

“Bloody hell!” Theo muttered.

“It is better if Barchester does not see you,” Theo told Dennis. “He may be an innocent pawn, or he may be in it up to his eyeballs. You stay here. Megan and I will do our best to settle this.”

Taking Megan’s arm, Theo swept her out the door and into the hallway, closing the door to the breakfast room behind him. At the other end of the hall they saw the footman Robert, under siege yet again today, backing up slowly before Deirdre, Barchester and an enraged Frank Mulcahey.

“Da! What are you doing?” Megan exclaimed. “Stop attacking poor Robert.”

Robert turned, relief written clearly on his face, “Miss. My lord. I am terribly sorry….”

Theo’s mouth curved up into a half smile. “No need to apologize, Robert. I understand perfectly. It’s all right. You may go now.” His gaze turned to Frank Mulcahey, and he strode forward, extending his hand. “Mr. Mulcahey, I am pleased to make your acquaintance at last.”

Red flooded Mulcahey’s face, and he clenched his fist. For one anxious moment Megan was afraid that her father was going to launch himself at Theo. Instead, he shook his fist and roared, “Don’t you ‘Mr. Mulcahey’ me, you spawn of the devil. You murdered my boy, and now you’ve sweet-talked my own daughter into turning against her family! Don’t think I don’t know your game! You won’t get away with it while I’ve breath in me body. I’ll—”

“Da! Hush!” Megan exclaimed, coming forward to join them. “No one has turned me against my family. No one could. You don’t know the facts, and you’re talking nonsense. Deirdre…help me.” She turned her gaze in appeal toward her sister.

“That is what we are trying to do,” Deirdre answered, looking troubled. “Mr. Barchester came to us and told us that you—”

“Ah, yes, Barchester.” Theo turned cold eyes on the man. “Clearly I can count on you to stick your hand in.”

“Aye, and it’s a good thing he did!” Frank retorted. “If he had not told us you had filled Megan’s head with nonsense, we wouldn’t have known to come rescue her. Let me tell you, you’re not holding my daughter here against her will. I am taking her with me.”

“Da! No one is holding me against my will. And no one has filled my head with nonsense. I’m not a child. It is Barchester who has been telling you lies. Theo did not kill Dennis.”

“Bah! Just like Andrew said you would say,” Frank retorted darkly. “How could you believe that murderer?”

“Because he told me the truth,” Megan replied simply. “Da, Deirdre, you know me. Am I the sort to swallow whatever lies anyone tells me?”

“No,” Mulcahey admitted. “But ’tis obvious that he is a canny bastard.”

“That is twice that you have insulted my parents, sir,” Theo said calmly. “In my own home.”

“Theo! Don’t you get up on your high horse, too,” Megan protested. “Da, I want you and Deirdre to sit down and listen to me. I don’t know what Mr. Barchester told you, but—”

“I went to Julian,” Barchester interrupted. “Miss Mulcahey, you have to listen to me. Julian told me what happened. He explained how Raine was probably drugging you.”

“Drugging me!”

“Yes,” Barchester replied earnestly. “You probably do not even realize it. It is easy to put something in one’s food or drink, and—”

“Yes, or in the tea one ingests during a ceremony,” Megan retorted.

Barchester paled. “What? How do you—”

“We know it all, Barchester,” Theo said firmly. “We know about the supposed ‘religion’ Coffey has been operating the past few years. About the tea you drink that produces visions—or does he keep that to himself, making you think his hallucinations are some special link he has to the otherworld?”

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” Barchester protested, but his voice was weak. “Julian is an extraordinary man….”

“What the devil are you talking about?” Megan’s father looked from Theo to Barchester, frowning. “What is all this blather about religion? The point is that you murdered my son, Moreland, and I am here to see you pay for that.”