“Yes, but those are just sitting there, buried by people long past. These things obviously were the property of that village.”
“I know. And I am certain that Dennis would not have taken anything that belonged to the village. When he was sitting, watching over me while I was ill, he had talked about the villagers. He had great liking for them and their way of life. I think, perhaps, he was even a little in love with the girl who gave me the medicine and chanted over me.”
“Really?” Emotion clogged Megan’s throat even as she smiled. “So then Dennis was happy those last few days of his life?”
“Lord, yes. The only dark cloud on his horizon was my illness. He was worried about me, I think, and whether I would make it out of there. But he was delighted, fascinated, by the village and its people, the way they had survived and prospered there, passing down a way of life unchanged from three hundred years ago. He talked to me about the need to conceal their presence from the outside world. It was of great concern to him. That was one of the reasons Coffey and I wanted to keep the place hidden and unknown—it had been so important to Dennis.”
A reminiscent smile curved Theo’s mouth. “And he told me quite a bit about my healer’s beautiful dark eyes and lustrous hair.” He paused for a moment, thinking about his friend, then went on, “So I do not think that Dennis had taken anything from the storage area. I suppose the villager could have thought that Dennis had stolen something or was about to. I thought about it quite a bit, as you might imagine, on that long trip back home. I decided that the most likely thing was that Dennis inadvertently stumbled upon the villagers in some sort of ceremony. Why else would the villager have been wearing that mask and cloak? They were engaged in a secret ritual, and if Dennis intruded, they might have been so angered that the priest killed him—felt that his gods demanded it or something.”
“I suppose.” It seemed a flimsy reason to kill someone, Megan thought, but she knew that many people had killed in the name of religion, even one like her own, which espoused peace and love for one’s fellow man. How much more likely would it be if one worshipped a bloodthirsty god who demanded the sacrifice of children? “It just seems so terrible that Dennis should have died because of a simple mistake.”
“There is no good reason for him to have been killed,” Theo pointed out.
“That’s true.”
“I cannot understand why Barchester lied to us. I have to find out.”
“Did he tell you this recently?” Theo asked. “Perhaps it was some wild idea he had years ago, just because he was so upset over Dennis’s death, and over the years he has realized that it wasn’t true.”
“No. He told Deirdre and me just a few weeks ago—right before I came to work here.”
“Deirdre?” Theo looked at her questioningly.
“My sister.”
“Your sister is here? Oh…and the Irishman? Is that your father?”
Megan nodded. “Yes. The three of us came over to…” she met his gaze squarely “…to find proof that you killed my brother. To bring you to justice for it.”
To her surprise, he smiled a little. “And exactly what did you hope to find in my bedroom?”
Megan blushed, but tilted her chin and said, “Something that you and Dennis might have quarreled over. Something precious to him that you might have taken from him. A pendant, perhaps.”
“A pendant?” His brows flew upward, his body stiffening a little. “What do you mean, a pendant?”
“I’m not sure.” Megan studied him, aware of the subtle difference in him. Why had his demeanor changed when she mentioned the necklace? “It seemed to us that if it was an object, it would have to be something rather small and easily carried, yet still valuable. Jewelry seemed a likely thing. And when we asked Barchester if he had seen you hiding anything after Dennis’s death, he mentioned a necklace of some sort. A pendant. He said he saw you take it out from beneath your shirt and look at it from time to time.”
“I see.” Theo’s eyes were unreadable. “Interesting.”
Doubt quivered in Megan. “Was there a pendant? Did Dennis give you anything like that?”
“No. I had nothing of Dennis’s. I did carry something…that was of importance to me.” He paused, looking at her consideringly, then shook his head. “It was nothing to do with Dennis.”
Megan’s curiosity was fully aroused now. “What was it?”
“Something given to me by someone else. A woman.”
“Oh. I see.” Megan’s voice turned frosty.
She did not care, she told herself, if Theo had carried some token from a woman he had loved. It was, after all, many years ago, and in any case, it made no difference to her.
Theo was still regarding her steadily, and Megan felt suddenly uneasy at what he might read in her face. She stood up and strolled away, stopping and looking down at a piece of statuary as though it held her interest.
“What will you do now?” Theo asked, and Megan turned to look at him, surprised.
“What? Oh. Yes, of course. I—I no longer need to pretend to be the twins’ tutor,” she said, her spirits sinking at the thought.
What was she to do now? she wondered. If what Theo said was true—and she was certain in her heart that it was—there was no reason for her to continue to spy on him. She knew now how her brother had died, and that the man who had killed him was a world away in a remote village. Her family would never really know the reason why he had been killed, and his killer could scarcely be brought to justice.
She squared her shoulders, swallowing something that felt very much like tears. “I shall tell the duchess the truth, and of course I will resign.”
Megan hated the thought of facing the duchess’s dislike almost as much as she hated the idea of leaving this house.
Theo, seeing her expression, smiled. “My mother can be a bit daunting. She doesn’t like lies. However, I think you will find that she can be quite understanding, as well. And of more importance to her than your qualifications will, I think, be the impression she has formed about you from being around you. I will accompany you when you have your interview with her, if you like.”
Megan looked surprised, and it touched her that he would help her in that way, despite what she had thought about him.
“Thank you. That is very kind. But I think that I should deal with the duchess on my own.”
“Of course,” Theo was too accustomed to independent women to object. He would simply talk to his mother on his own. “You know, there are still some loose ends you need to tie up. For instance, the man who was following you or having you followed.”
“Besides your man, you mean?” Megan quirked an eyebrow. It still aggravated her that he had had her followed—almost as much because she had not seen the man as because Theo had done it.
“I must find out why Mr. Barchester lied to me, as well,” she went on. She hesitated, then added, “I did not tell you quite all I remember about being hit on the head tonight.”