An Unexpected Pleasure (The Mad Morelands #4)(81)

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.”