“The jaguar god,” Theo said flatly.
Megan glanced at him. His face was devoid of expression. “Also the sun god. When he passes through the day, he is the sun god, the supreme god, then he descends into the darkness of the underworld, where he is the jaguar god. The god of war.”
Megan could not suppress a little shiver. The mask was, frankly, a little bit unnerving. She strolled around the room, looking at all the masks, some of metal and others of cloth or ceramic, some topped with feathers. All were of human or animal faces, often a blending of the two. There were long-beaked birds and open-mouthed serpents, deities and warriors.
In the center of the room stood a large, glassed-in display case containing a variety of small figurines. Several were gold and silver, a veritable garden of plants and trees in gleaming metal, and others were carved from some sort of black stone. There were painted pots, and also a short instrument of some kind, with another headdressed figure on top, and below it a rounded piece of metal that looked rather like a miniature spade.
Megan glanced again at Theo. He stood in silence, gazing down into the display case, and there was a look on his face, distant and melancholy, that clutched at Megan’s heart. It was the face of a man staring into bitter memories, and once again she felt the sharp stab of certainty that Theo lived with guilt.
Her heart felt immensely heavy, and tears welled suddenly in her eyes. She turned away, swallowing the fierce emotion that threatened to swamp her.
Seizing on any diversion, she wondered where the twins were. With the house laid out the way it was, it had not taken the boys long to outstrip them as they went from room to room. But she realized now that she did not even hear their voices any longer.
“Oh, dear,” Megan said. “Where are Con and Alex?”
She crossed the room to the hall and looked out. “Boys? Con? Alex?”
There was no sign of them and no reply, and anxiety sharpened in her chest. She went to the next room and peeked in, only to find the boys were not there, either. Consternation on her face, she turned back to Theo, who had followed her out into the hall. “Where did they get to?”
Theo shrugged with a notable lack of concern. “The twins have a knack of disappearing wherever they go. Don’t worry. They also have a way of turning up just when you’re sure that something dreadful has happened to them.”
“I must say,” Megan told him crossly, “you seem rather cavalier about it.”
“The twins are good at taking care of themselves,” Theo responded with a smile. “At least here I know they’re enclosed in a house. It’s a great deal more unnerving to lose sight of them in the midst of the city, which I have had the misfortune to do before. With the Greats, it’s best to save one’s worry until you find that they’re actually in danger. Otherwise you’ll be gray before your time.”
Megan knew it was true that the twins were able to take care of themselves quite well, and she had little doubt that in a few minutes they would come pounding back, full of excitement and babbling about something that she and Theo should see. Still, Theo’s attitude seemed one more irritation in an already annoying day, and she was just about to snap back a heated comment when she was distracted by the sound of footsteps.
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.”