Whatever Megan’s game was, the fact that someone was following her could not be good. Whether the follower was an accomplice who did not trust her or someone from whom she had stolen or had crossed in some way, it seemed very clear to him that the man represented a danger to her.
Theo knew, with a fierce, sharp pain in his gut, that he had to protect her from whoever threatened her. It came as an unwelcome surprise that the need to protect her was greater than his concern for whatever she was planning against him and his family.
“Right you are, guvnor,” Quick said cheerfully. “What about Miss Henderson?”
“I will keep an eye on her,” Theo replied flatly. “The lady won’t be going anywhere this week unless I am along.”
*
MEGAN DREADED SEEING Theo again after what had happened in his bedroom the other night. However, there was little way to avoid being in his company—especially, she found, since he seemed to pop up at every turn for the next week.
He dropped by the nursery to chat with the twins or check on their animals. When she took a stroll about the garden after classes, he was there, sitting on the terrace and reading a book, his gaze on her more often than on the tome in his lap. He ate every dinner at home, and not an evening went by that he didn’t suggest that Megan join the family after the evening meal for a round of games or an hour of music or simply the free-flowing conversation that often occupied the Morelands.
There was nowhere that Megan particularly wanted to go, but she felt certain that if she left the house, with or without her charges, Theo would turn up before she had gotten ten steps from the door. He was, she knew, trying to find out what she was doing, why she had tried to get into the duke’s collection room, and why she had been prowling around his own bedroom.
It made her a little nervous that he did not simply ask her what she was doing. It seemed the obvious course. It was even odder, she supposed, that he had told no one else in the family, even his parents, about her strange nocturnal visits to places she had no right to be. It was as if he was protecting her from his family’s anger.
The thought made her feel warm and tender inside. It was foolish, she supposed, to feel that way; he was not doing it, after all, because he wanted to protect her. There were bound to be reasons—selfish reasons—behind his actions.
He could intend to hold his knowledge over her head, to coerce her with the threat of revealing what she had done. But she could think of nothing he could want to coerce her into doing besides giving herself to him, and she had already proved herself embarrassingly close to bedding the man without any sort of coercion at all. Besides, Theo had made no move in that direction since the other night.
He had not tried to be alone with her at any time. His conversation and manner were perfectly gentlemanly. Except for a time or two when Megan had glanced up and found his gaze on her, a quickly veiled heat in his eyes, she would have wondered if he even remembered the ardor they had shared the other night.
She moved through the next week, puzzling over Theo’s actions and attitude, and wondering how she could get back into his bedroom to search it. She could not risk entering it again unless she was absolutely certain that he would not walk in on her. She would have to wait until he was out for the evening, preferably very late at night when no one else would be up or on some night when the rest of the family was out, as well.
The evening of the museum benefit, for instance, would have been perfect—if it had not been for the fact that she would be attending it, as well.
She had half hoped that Kyria and the others would forget about their promise to take her, but those hopes were dashed on Monday afternoon when Kyria, Olivia and Anna swept her out of the nursery and down to Anna’s room, where Kyria’s maid was laying out a number of dresses.
Megan’s eyes widened when she saw the display of sumptuous ball gowns. “Mrs. McIntyre! My lady!”
She turned from Kyria to the other two. Kyria wore a broad smile on her face and Olivia looked pleased and encouraging. Megan glanced at Anna, whose expression was more guarded. There was in her gray eyes the same faint darkness, even suspicion, that Megan had seen there when they first met. Reed’s wife, she thought, did not completely trust her. And there had been that disturbing thing about the woman’s seeing things that others could not….
Megan turned from the women back to the bed, where a wealth of jewel-toned satins, velvets and laces were draped across the spread. There were also gowns lying across chairs and every other available surface.
“This is too much,” Megan protested feebly.
“Nonsense,” Kyria said. “Now stand there and let me look at you. Joan…”
Kyria’s maidservant obligingly held up one gown after another in front of Megan as she chatted with Kyria and Anna about the possibilities. Golds and greens and blues followed deep red and chocolate brown and pale yellow.
“Olivia’s colors suit you best,” Kyria said thoughtfully. “If only she didn’t insist on such plain things.”
“Not plain,” Olivia protested. “I just don’t like a lot of fussy decorations.”
“Elegantly simple,” Anna said, compromising. “I agree. The shades that look good on me aren’t as good on Megan, though I think I am a little more the same size.”
“I like the rust-colored satin,” Anna went on, picking up one of the gowns and holding it up to Megan.
Anna might be suspicious, but she seemed willing enough to help her, Megan thought. Perhaps she was simply more reserved than Kyria. Or perhaps she was simply waiting for her to take a misstep.
“It’s a beautiful color on her,” Kyria agreed. “Why don’t you try it on, Megan, and Joan can see where she needs to alter it?”
It didn’t take much urging for Megan to try on the dress. It was a beautiful rich satin in a dark russet that picked up the red of her hair and warmed her pale skin. She had had her eye on it the whole time. The low neckline curved slightly up to the short, puffed sleeves, and a darker lace trimmed the edge, making the neckline more modest.
Olivia was a trifle more slender than Megan, she found, and she had to suck in her breath sharply to let Joan fasten the hooks up the back.
“Oh, yes!” Kyria exclaimed. “That looks lovely.”
“I can scarcely breathe,” Megan commented, but Kyria waved away that protest.
“We’ll lace up your corset more tightly,” she told her. “I think this is definitely the one.”
Joan tucked the lace down inside the dress, startling Megan with the familiarity that the aristocratic ladies seemed to not even notice.
“Much better,” Kyria almost purred. “We’ll take off the lace at the neckline. You can add a bit of copper lace as decoration at the hem. I have some earrings I made last year that would be absolutely perfect. Copper-and-turquoise dangles.” She paused, thinking, her head tilted to one side. “Or perhaps just plain ear bobs and a cameo choker with a copper-colored ribbon.”