An Unexpected Pleasure (The Mad Morelands #4)(48)
She turned and saw a man approaching them from the rear of the house. He was of medium height, with light brown hair that was receding in a dramatic V from his forehead. He made up for the lack of hair atop his head with a wide set of muttonchop sideburns. He was dressed plainly in a dark suit and white shirt with stiff collars and cuffs, but both the cut and cloth of the suit were expensive and stylish, and his black shoes were polished to a mirror shine. A pearl stickpin nestled in the dark gray silk of his ascot.
He smiled as he approached them, saying, “Lord Raine, this is indeed an honor.”
“Coffey,” Theo responded shortly, giving a brief nod.
“I am so pleased that you and the lady have chosen to visit the museum today.” He turned with a faintly questioning look toward Megan.
“Allow me to introduce you to Miss Henderson,” Theo said without enthusiasm. “Miss Henderson, Mr. Julian Coffey, the director of the Cavendish.”
“How do you do, Miss Henderson?” Coffey said, taking the hand she extended and bowing politely over it.
His eyes, a light gray, looked at her assessingly, and Megan had the feeling that he had quickly summed up the quality of every bit of her attire, from her straw hat to the sturdy black laced shoes on her feet.
“I am a tutor with the Moreland family,” Megan explained, not wanting the man to think that she was Theo’s companion. “Constantine and Alexander are with us, as well, but I fear that they have forged ahead.”
“They will find a great deal to interest them here, I hope,” he replied smoothly. “But I do hope that you and Lord Raine will allow me to show you around my little domain.” He offered them a quick, deprecating smile. “The Cavendish, you see, is not only my employment but also my obsession.”
“Yes, I know,” Theo responded, his voice crisp and cool.
Megan looked at Theo, interested by his almost discourteous response. His face was smooth and unexpressive, his eyes, usually twinkling, now devoid of any emotion. Clearly, she thought, he did not like Mr. Coffey. But of course he would not, considering what Coffey knew about him.
“That would be very nice,” Megan said quickly to counteract Theo’s rudeness.
Simply the fact that Theo did not want the man around was enough to make her want Coffey to stay. Besides, she wanted to see what else transpired between the two men. Perhaps Theo’s horning in on their excursion to the museum would turn out to be a useful thing. While she could not question Coffey with Theo around, she just might learn something from the way Theo reacted to him. She could always come back later to see Coffey on her own—or maybe she could get a few moments alone with him if she could convince Theo to go look for the twins.
“I was curious about this figure,” Megan said, leading him back into the room where they had just been.
She did have a question or two, but primarily she was curious to see what Coffey would say about the items that had sent Theo into his quiet reverie.
“Ah, yes,” Coffey said, looking at the miniature spade-like instrument. “That is an Inca ceremonial knife.” He shot a sideways glance at Theo before he went on, “Even though it is rounded, the blade is quite sharp. They used it, I believe, in ritual sacrifices.”
“Sacrifices?” Megan repeated, surprised.
“Yes. Usually of a llama or some animal. However, the Incas also engaged periodically in the sacrifice of young children.”
“Children?” Megan paled a little. “How awful!”
“Yes, to our Western minds, it doubtless was. However, they were not simply bloodthirsty savages, you know. The sacrifices were done to please or appease their gods, and they were not routinely of children. That occurred only when they were trying to escape the god’s anger, manifested, no doubt, in some sort of cataclysmic natural event—an earthquake, say, or a very long drought, or something of that sort. And on the succession of an emperor, in a ritual called the capac hucha. It was considered a great honor to be one of the chosen children. Only the healthiest and most beautiful were accepted as good enough.”
“An honor I think most of us would decline,” Theo commented.
Coffey gave Megan a small smile and shrugged. “It seems bizarre to us, of course. But one must remember that this was their worship, as sacred to them as our churches are to us. As best we can tell, the Incas believed that their emperor was a god himself. They built each successive holder of the title a grand palace, and the dead emperor was mummified and treated with great reverence. The mummy remained in his palace and was attended by servants and surrounded by his possessions. Rather like the Egyptian burials, except that the servants were not entombed with the mummy but lived and worked in the palace as they always had.”
It seemed a grisly custom to Megan, but she said only, “You must know a great deal about the Incas.”
“I hope I will not appear immodest when I say that I am something of an expert in the field. I was more a naturalist when I went on my first expedition to South America.” He gestured toward the framed ink drawings of jungle scenes that lined one wall of the room. “I sketched those depictions of the flora and fauna of the Amazon. But I became fascinated by the culture and art of the ancient Incas, and gradually, over the years, it was the ancient artifacts of their culture that became my subject of study. The other civilizations are, of course, quite interesting, too—we have rooms devoted to the Mayan culture and the Aztec civilization, as well. But Peru and Ecuador and the Incas have remained my favorite.”