Megan grimaced, refusing to share his amusement. “It isn’t as if we are friends.”
“Are we not?” The amusement grew, now tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I had hoped that we were. Then what you feel for me is solely animal attraction?”
Pink stained her cheekbones, and Megan shot him a fierce look. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”
“I am afraid that I don’t know. You are being unaccustomedly unclear,” he responded mildly, still with that irritating amusement in his eyes that told her he knew exactly how she felt about him and was rather smugly pleased with it.
Megan narrowed her eyes, but Theo was spared her hot retort by the fact that the carriage pulled to a halt in front of Andrew Barchester’s redbrick townhome.
With a flash of a grin at her, Theo exited the carriage and held up his hand to help her down. She could not avoid taking his hand without obvious rudeness, so she put her hand in his and stepped down. Even through her glove, his hand was warm and she was more aware of it than she was of the ground beneath her feet. His fingers closed around hers with just the briefest of pressures and then were gone. Megan could not resist looking up into his face, and the warmth she saw there in his eyes left her a little breathless.
Foolish, she reminded herself. Dangerous.
Neither warning seemed to weigh much against the flutter of her heart.
Theo knocked at the door, and it was opened promptly by a haughty-faced manservant, whose expression changed subtly at the sound of Theo’s name. He whisked them into the same elegant drawing room where Megan and Deirdre had visited Barchester, then bowed out of the room and went in search of his employer.
Megan’s thoughts turned to her sister as they waited for Barchester to appear. She feared that Deirdre had become attached to Mr. Barchester, and that whatever they found out in the next few minutes would hurt Deirdre. Mr. Barchester had been, at best, careless—and at worst, villainous—in what he had told her family about Dennis’s death. For Deirdre’s sake, Megan hoped that they would find out that Barchester was innocent of any ill intent.
A few minutes later, Barchester strode into the drawing room, whatever surprise he felt at their visit carefully concealed behind an expression of polite welcome. Only his eyes as they went to Megan betrayed his curiosity.
“Miss, umm…” Barchester fumbled for the false name under which she had been introduced to him at the museum party.
“Mulcahey,” Megan told him, returning his gaze with a cool, steady examination.
“Uh, yes, of course,” he replied, though his face looked more bewildered than ever. “And Lord Raine. How do you do?”
“I am quite well,” Theo replied, his voice as hard and flat as his eyes. “And my memory, it seems, must be quite a bit better than yours.”
Barchester’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?” He glanced from Theo to Megan, then back.
“Lord Raine and I have been discussing the expedition you and he took up the Amazon,” Megan said. “And I find his version is significantly different from yours.”
He looked at her, faintly puzzled. “Yes, well, it would be, wouldn’t it?”
“What I am wondering is why?” Megan went on.
“Miss Mulcahey…” He frowned at her a little and cast a glance toward Theo. “I, um…”
“He knows what you told me,” Megan explained. “There is no need for any of us to dance around the matter.”
Barchester looked shocked. “He has gotten around you? He has made you believe him?”
“I didn’t ‘get around’ Miss Mulcahey,” Theo retorted. “And if you knew her better, you would realize that no one could make her believe anything. But she knew the truth when she heard it. What we are here to find out is why you lied to Megan and her family.” Theo’s face was dark with anger, and he took a step closer to Barchester.
To Barchester’s credit, he did not back up, but faced Theo squarely. “I did not lie, my lord.”
“You told them I killed Dennis.” Theo’s eyes flashed, and his fists knotted.
Barchester swallowed, but continued to stand his ground. “I did not lie,” he repeated.
“Bloody hell! How do you have the nerve to stand there and tell me to my face that that is not a lie? You were not even there!”
“No. I was not. But anyone could have seen that you were lying. You could scarcely get the words out. Every time I asked you about the details, you were vague and obviously uneasy. You avoided conversation. Hell, you avoided me. It was clear that you were lying.”
“You are a terrible liar,” Megan conceded, turning to Theo. “I knew last night that what you said about Dennis having an accident was pure poppycock.”
Theo’s mouth twitched in irritation. “All right, yes, I am not adept at lying. I admit it. Dennis did not die the way that we said. But why the devil would you make the leap from that to saying that I killed him?”
“Because Julian saw you!”
Theo’s jaw dropped.
“Ah, you didn’t realize that, did you?” Barchester went on triumphantly. “While you were struggling with Dennis, you did not see Julian come into the cave. He saw you stab Dennis, and he hid, afraid of what you would do to him if you knew that he had witnessed the whole thing.”
“Coffey told you I killed Dennis?” Theo asked carefully. “He told you that he saw me murder him?”
“Yes. I questioned him about the story you had told me, because it didn’t ring true. At first he tried to back up your version, but when I told him that I knew you were lying, he admitted what really happened. He thought you must have been delirious from a fever, that you mistook Dennis for an enemy or something.”
“I see.” Theo contemplated the other man for a moment, then said, “Interesting that neither of you did anything about this murder you think I committed.”
Barchester shot him a scornful look. “As if our word would have meant anything against that of a marquess!”
“You didn’t even confront me about it.”
“What good would it have done?” Barchester asked him, bitterness tainting his voice. “I asked you what happened, and you lied to me. Why would that have changed if I told you I knew the truth? You would tell any official I might go to the same lie. And we had no proof to back it up.”
“You could have given me the chance, instead of believing I was guilty!” Theo shot back.
Barchester’s mouth twisted. “I had thought you were different, that you weren’t the kind of aristocrat’s son that I had gone to school with. But then you lied, and I realized that whatever egalitarian facade you put up, it was only skin deep. Scratch, and the aristocrat came out soon enough.”
“I had thought you were different, too,” Theo retorted coldly. “I thought you judged a man on who he was, how he acted with you, not on the arbitrary matter of his birth. Scratch you, and your prejudices come out clearly enough.”