An Unexpected Pleasure (The Mad Morelands #4)(95)

“My lord?”

Theo glanced up at him, something in the footman’s voice alerting him. “Yes? What is it?”

“There is…a person here who claims to know you,” the footman said carefully.

Even Megan, unused to the subtleties of the English servant’s demeanor, caught the tone of disapproval in the footman’s voice. Whoever was requesting admittance was clearly someone whom the servant did not think belonged here—or shouldn’t be speaking to Lord Raine.

“Who is it?”

“I do not know, sir. He refused to tell me his name. He said that he wanted to speak only to you. He is…well, rather oddly dressed.”

“Indeed? You intrigue me, Robert. Show him in.”

“My lord…” He paused, polite distress clear on his face.

Theo said, “Perhaps I should go out to see him.”

The footman’s face cleared. “I think that would be best, sir.”

Theo glanced at Megan and smiled. “Care to come?”

“After that? You couldn’t keep me away.” Megan joined him.

They followed Robert’s rigid back down the hall and into the large formal entryway of Broughton House. A man and a boy stood there, with another of the Morelands’ footmen eyeing the two as if they might at any moment make off with some of the furniture.

The man and child were indeed an odd sight. They wore leather sandals on their bare feet, the straps wrapping up around their calves halfway to their knees. Above the sandals, their legs were bare to a bit above the knee, where the fringe of their brightly colored tunics dangled. The tunics hung straight from their shoulders, with holes for their arms, and were woven in a checkerboard fashion, each square containing geometric designs in orange and brown. The man wore a wide gold band around one bared bicep.

The boy looked to be about eight or nine. His skin was tanned, and his large, liquid eyes were a deep, dark brown. His thick black hair hung straight as a board down to his shoulders, with short bangs adorning his forehead. The man’s hair was also long, but was pulled up to the crown of his head and caught in a leather thong wrapped around it for three or four inches, with the rest of his hair spilling out from it. His coloring, however, was different from the boy’s—his skin several shades lighter, and his eyes not the color of chocolate but a light brown with an undertone of cinnamon. His hair, too, was lighter, with a hint of red, and it curled rather than hung straight. He looked to be perhaps twenty.

The younger visitor regarded Megan and Theo with stony suspicion. The older one smiled as he looked at Theo.

“Hello, Th—” His gaze shifted to Megan, and his jaw dropped. “Megan?”

Megan felt as if her stomach had turned to ice. She stared at the man, unable to speak.

“Bloody hell!” Theo rasped out. “My God—Dennis? Is that you?”

The man smiled a little crookedly. “Yes. It is I. I came because, well, you always said you would help me if I ever needed it. And I need it now.”

“Dennis!” Tears shimmered in Megan’s eyes, and suddenly her locked knees were able to move again. She flung herself forward, straight into her brother’s arms. “I thought you were dead!”

The young man wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly to him. “Ah, Megan, it’s good to see you.”

Theo stepped forward, exclaiming, “So it was you in the garden last night!”

“Yes,” Dennis admitted, looking somewhat abashed. “I wanted to reach you without anyone knowing. But clearly you are a difficult man to sneak up on.”

For the next few moments, there was nothing but hugs and handshakes and claps on the back, along with amazed exclamations, while the two footmen looked on with great interest.

“But, wait,” Theo said at last, stepping back and looking at his friend. “What am I doing? You must be hungry. We were just finishing breakfast. Come in and eat.”

The four of them walked back to the breakfast room, Megan’s arm linked through her brother’s as though to make sure that he stayed right there with them. Her gaze kept sliding over to the boy who walked on the other side of Dennis and who regarded her with a solemn, unwinking gaze.

When they reached the breakfast room, Theo dismissed the footman, telling him that they would serve themselves, then closed the door. There was a moment of awkward silence as they stood, looking at each other. Then the boy tugged at Dennis’s tunic and said something in a tongue Megan did not recognize. Dennis responded, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and turned to Megan and Theo.

“I am sorry,” he said, his words coming somewhat awkwardly. “I forgot—I wish to introduce you to my son, Manco. Manco, this is my good friend Theo. And this is my sister, your aunt Megan. You have heard me speak of them.”

“I am honored,” the boy replied formally, his words slightly accented, his manner stiff.

“Your son?” Megan’s eyes began to fill again with tears as she looked at the boy. She felt as if her insides had been turned into mush. “Oh, my.” She blinked away the tears and bent to look the boy in the eye. “I am very happy to meet you, Manco.”

She turned back to Dennis. “I—I cannot take this in. Da and Deirdre will be so thrilled. Oh!” She turned to Theo, then back to Dennis. “We must tell them at once! We must go to them! You have me so rattled, I am scarcely able to think.”