She was on edge, worried that Theo would come over to try to talk to her, alert every moment to where he was and what he was saying. So conscious was she of him that she could scarcely pay attention to the story Thisbe was telling her about Con and Alex’s successful experiment this afternoon.
The duke and duchess finally entered the room, the signal for everyone to sit down and begin the meal. Megan took a seat between Thisbe and Alex. At the Morelands’ unconventional table, no one bothered with the rules of social seating or the precedence of titles, but simply took their places wherever they wanted to. Tonight, much to Megan’s dismay, Theo sat down in the chair directly across the long table from her.
“Miss Henderson,” he said with a smile that would have melted a heart of stone. “How are you this evening?”
Megan tilted her chin up, determined not to appear disturbed by Theo’s presence. “I am fine, sir. And you?”
“Never better.” His eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer before he turned his attention to Anna, on his right.
They were a smaller group than they often were at supper that evening. Neither Kyria nor Olivia nor their spouses were dining with them this evening, and as a result, the family was all grouped at one end of the long table in a more intimate setting that encouraged conversation among all the occupants of the table together, rather than the scattered and noisy multiple conversations that normally reigned at the Moreland table.
A lull opened up in the conversation as they were finishing a delicately poached fillet of sole, and Theo tossed into the silence, “Father, Miss Henderson has not seen your collection yet. I am surprised you have been so remiss.”
Megan’s gaze flew to Theo in astonishment. He was watching her, his eyes unreadable, the faintest trace of a smile hovering about his lips. Her heart began to hammer in her chest. He knew!
Her mind raced. Had he seen her at his father’s desk last night? But why had he not said anything then? And even if he had seen her slip the key into her pocket, how had he known which key it was? There had been several in the drawer.
The duke’s head came up, and he looked at Megan with interest. “Is that so? Are you interested in Greek and Roman art, Miss Henderson?”
“Yes, of course,” Megan lied. She imagined that there were few who could admit their disinterest in the face of the duke’s gently pleased countenance. “I—I am afraid that I don’t know much about it, though.”
“I think you should show Miss Henderson around your collection room,” Theo went on, his gaze steadily on Megan. “After supper, perhaps.”
“Why, of course. I would be most happy to, if you wish, Miss Henderson?” The duke’s voice rose slightly at the end of his sentence, making it a question.
“Thank you,” Megan responded through stiff lips. “That would be very generous of you.”
“I think you will find the collection fairly extensive for one of its kind,” the duke went on happily and started to describe some of the pieces.
Megan scarcely heard him, though she kept a pleasantly interested smile plastered on her face. She could feel Theo’s gaze on her as his father talked. She sneaked a glance at him and saw the challenge that lit his eyes.
She was certain now that he had seen her taking the key from the desk. She had underestimated him. Doubtless she had been right in thinking that he would not want to tell his father what had happened, as he wouldn’t want the good duke to know exactly how Theo had happened to discover what Megan had done. But he had neatly manipulated it so that his father would discover that the key was missing. There would be questions asked. It wouldn’t be at all unlikely if suspicion fell on her, the newest addition to the household. No doubt Theo presumed that the key was still in her possession, and, if they should institute a search of the place, that the key would be discovered there.
The heat of anger rose in Megan, shoving aside her nerves, and she looked straight back at Theo, her eyes as hard as his.
She had one thing in her favor, Megan knew. The key was not in the pocket of her skirt nor anywhere in her room. She had checked and rechecked that thoroughly. Even if Theo suggested a search, they would find nothing to incriminate her.
The rest of the meal passed with agonizing slowness. Megan had lost all hunger. She had to force down each bite of food. Pretending to listen with interest to the conversation, smiling and nodding at others’ remarks, even answering when she had to, she fumed inside, her anger at Theo growing.
A man of courage, she thought, would have confronted her last night. Instead, he had stolen kisses from her before he set her up to be discovered by his father. She should have known, of course, that he was the sort of man who would do such a thing. She knew better than anyone else the extremes of which he was capable.
When the meal was finally over, the duke escorted Megan to the study, along with Anna, who had not yet seen the collection, and her husband Reed, and Theo, who had elected to tag along. Megan felt his eyes on her, but she refused to look at him.
“I must just get the key, you see,” the duke told them when they reached his study, and he walked past them into the room.
Megan tensed, waiting, as he crossed the room to the large desk and reached inside the top left drawer. He pulled out a key, closed the drawer and started back toward them. Megan stared, astonished.
He had the key? How had it wound up back in his desk drawer?
She whipped her head around to look at Theo. He gazed back at her, saying nothing, the same faintly amused smile playing about his lips.
Megan realized that he had known the key would be there. He had played out this little charade just to show her that he knew what she had done and that the key was once more in his father’s possession.
The key must have fallen out on the floor right here in the study, Megan thought, and Theo had seen it after she left and had returned it to the drawer. She narrowed her eyes, meeting his bright green gaze. The light that she had seen in his eyes before was there again, intense and seductive. His eyes dropped slightly to her lips, and it was then that the realization struck her with all the force of a heavy stone dropped on her: Theo had taken the key from her.
She remembered how he had kissed her until she was dizzy. She remembered how his hand had crept down her side and onto her leg, sliding up and down, clenching her skirts in his fist. She had felt only the wild, delirious passion that had thrummed through her in response to his touch. But he had used the opportunity to slip his hand into her pocket and retrieve the key.
Looking into his knowing eyes, Megan was certain that it had happened as she thought. He had kissed her just to retrieve the key!
She flushed hotly in a combination of embarrassment and anger. He had deceived her, used her own desire against her to get what he wanted. And she—she had been a fool to respond as she had, desiring him, believing that he desired her.