An Unexpected Pleasure (The Mad Morelands #4)(9)

“Investigating?” Megan cocked an eyebrow at her father as he drew closer, though she could not suppress a smile. “Is that what you call it?” She made a show of sniffing the air. “Smells more like ale to me.”

“Aye, well, that was where I was investigating,” he replied. “Is there a bite of supper left for your poor old da? I’m famished.”

“So you’ve been investigating a tavern?” Megan asked teasingly as they sat down at the kitchen table and Deirdre took out the food from the oven, where she had been keeping it warm for their father.

“Nay, but that’s where I made me inquiries.” Frank winked at his daughter, looking pleased with himself.

Megan straightened, intrigued. “What do you mean? What inquiries?”

“I’ve been thinking about how you’re to get inside that great house to expose the villain.” He shook his head. “I went to see it, and it’s an imposing looking place.”

“You’re right about that,” Megan agreed. “I was telling Deirdre that I think my best chance is to get hired on there as a servant. It’s such a grand house, they must need a lot of servants. I would think there are openings pretty often.”

“And I told her she wouldn’t last a week,” Deirdre put in, sitting down across from Megan and their father.

Megan grimaced. “I could manage.”

“That’s if they’d even hire you in the first place. You don’t look like a servant. You’re much too attractive for one thing, and you haven’t a servant’s demeanor,” Deirdre went on.

“I can put on an act,” Megan said. “I’ll wear the drabbest dress I have.”

“Ah, but nothin’ can hide those sparkling eyes of yours,” her father said, reaching out to pat her cheek fondly. “Don’t worry, lass, I’ve a better idea for you.”

“What?” Megan and Deirdre chorused.

“Well, I went to all the taverns last night that were close to Broughton House, and again this afternoon, and it happens I hit gold this afternoon. There’s a footman from the place comes in for a wee nip every evening if he gets the chance to slip away. Name’s Paul, and our Paul’s an informative lad.”

“Really? What did you find out?” Megan leaned forward.

“First of all, I found out that Lord Raine is in residence at Broughton House.”

“Lord Raine? Who’s that?”

“Seems that’s Himself.”

“I thought his name was Moreland,” Megan said.

“Aye, well, ’tis, except it seems he gets a title, see, because he’s next in line to be the Duke of Broughton. While his da’s alive, he’s another sort of lord. The Marquess of Raine. Don’t ask me to explain it. It took me a bit even to figure out that our Paul was talkin’ about the very villain I was interested in. Anyway, he’s at home, which is our good luck—for I’ll tell you, girl, I was worried we might get here and find that he was off in Timbuktu or some such place.”

“Yes, it concerned me somewhat, too.”

“But according to the gossip, the man’s not looking to go off on one of his adventures for a few months yet.”

“That’s good.”

“Even better is what else he told me. Seems they’re in terrible need of a tutor for two of the boys of the family.”

“A teacher?” Megan looked at him, puzzled. “Da! Are you saying I should go there as a tutor? You can’t be serious!”

“Why not? You’ve a much better chance of convincing them you’re a teacher than a scrub maid.”

“You were always first in your class,” Deirdre pointed out, adding, “Well, I mean, your grades were. It was just because you kept getting in trouble with the nuns that kept you from taking honors.”

“Aye, and you went to the best convent school in New York,” Frank added. “You learned Latin and history and all those high muckety-muck writers you’re always quoting, didn’t ye? All you need is enough to get by for a few weeks. ’Tisn’t as if ye’re actually going to be a teacher.”

“Yes, but—I don’t have any training, any experience. No qualifications, in short. They won’t accept me.”

Her father waved away her objections. “Easy enough to make up, now, aren’t they, when all your references are thousands of miles away in America? It’d take weeks to get a reply from any name you put down. And they can’t wait. They need someone now.”

“But even if I made up the grandest qualifications for myself, why would they hire an American? There must be plenty of Englishwomen who would take the job—and who would have references right here in London.”

Mulcahey grinned. “Seems they’ve already run through most of the lot. Got a certain reputation, these lads have.”

Megan looked at him doubtfully. “What are you saying? They’re such hellions they’ve frightened off all their other governesses?”

“Governesses, then tutors when they got too old for governesses.”

“Too old? How old are they?”

Frank shrugged. “Old enough that Paul was saying any other family’d send ’em off to Eton soon, but the Morelands are an odd lot. I think they must be twelve or thirteen.”