“Hmm.” Frank frowned, glancing from Theo to his daughter somewhat suspiciously.
Over her father’s head, Theo sent Megan a significant look. She knew what he was trying to do. She could keep her father out of harm’s way by standing watch with him outside, away from the actual fray. Of course, that would also serve the purpose of keeping her out of harm’s way, a factor she was certain was not lost on Theo. He had caught her pretty neatly, she thought.
The idea rankled, but Megan was also sensible enough to admit that, much as she would have liked to be in the thick of the fray, it made more sense for her and her father to remain outside and the men to enter the house. Theo’s brother Reed and Tom Quick would be handier with their fists if the need arose than either she or Frank.
Sending Theo back a sharp look to let him know that she was aware of exactly what he was doing, Megan replied, “Yes, I suppose you are right. We should wait outside, Da. In reserve, so to speak, in case they run into trouble.”
“I will give you one of my revolvers, sir,” Theo promised her father, leaning forward to say in a quiet voice, “if you will stay with Megan and watch out for her, it would be a great help to Dennis and me.”
“Aye, I understand,” Frank agreed. “I’ll do that. No need for you and Den to be worrying your heads on that score.”
With that matter arranged, they settled down to making plans for the evening raid on the museum. First they tucked Barchester away in one of the guest rooms of the house, the door locked to make sure he could not get away to warn Coffey if his expressions of remorse and willingness to help were merely playacting.
Theo sent for Tom Quick, then went upstairs to engage his brother’s aid for their project. Dennis and Megan took the other Mulcaheys upstairs to meet Dennis’s son.
The afternoon was a quiet, loving interlude in the action of the day. Despite the worry over Dennis’s daughter, Megan and her family could not help but rejoice in this time spent together. For years certain that their brother and son was dead, murdered, they were filled with elation to be able to be with Dennis, to talk and laugh and, for this little while, to be the family they once were.
While Deirdre and Frank were talking to Dennis’s son, Dennis took Megan aside, saying, “Let’s walk for a bit, shall we?”
“All right.” She led him down the stairs and out into the garden behind the house.
Theo had lent Dennis some of his clothes, and except for his longer hair, he now looked very much like the brother she had once known. He was silent at first, and Megan glanced over at him, wondering what had made him pull her away from the others.
“You and Theo…” he began slowly.
“Yes? What about us?”
“He is a good man,” Dennis said quietly. “I want you to know—if I could have chosen someone for my sister to marry, it would have been Theo.”
Megan smiled, unaware of the trace of sadness in her eyes. “I am not marrying Theo. Don’t be absurd.”
“Do you love him?”
Megan’s eyes flew to her brother’s. “Dennis…”
“Well, do you?”
“What if I did? It would not matter. You don’t understand. I wouldn’t have, really, until I had been here for a while. Theo is going to be a duke someday. He has responsibilities. There are certain expectations.”
“I never thought I would hear you spouting such poppycock,” Dennis retorted.
Megan grimaced. “I am being realistic. That is all.”
“No. You are being foolish. Either that or you don’t really know Theo.”
Megan’s eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth to retort hotly, but Dennis went on hastily, “The Morelands marry as they wish. All you have to do is look around you to know that is so.”
“I know that his brother and sisters married to suit themselves. But they are not going to be the ones to carry on the title. It’s a different thing.”
“And what about his father?” Dennis asked quietly. “Theo told me how his parents met and married. The duchess was not a titled lady. Or even anyone that his family or peers would have considered suitable, I imagine. She was a reformer. A bluestocking, Theo called it.”
Megan simply looked at him, whatever she might have replied dying in her mouth. It was true. The duchess came from a good family, but her father had been merely a scholarly gentleman, with no title.
“I think you are trying to prepare yourself for the worst because you are afraid,” Dennis went on. “Afraid that he does not love you enough to marry you.”
His words pierced her, and Megan’s hand went to her chest, as though to protect herself from the wound. Was he right? Megan knew, had known from the moment she remembered her dream, that she loved Theo beyond anything, that she was fated to love him the rest of her life. He loved her in return, she had told herself; he could not have made love to her in that way if he had not.
But Theo had never uttered the words. He had not said, I love you.
And Megan knew, with a pang, that Dennis had indeed touched upon her deepest fear. When this was over, would she lose Theo? He was the love of her life, but what if she was not the love of his?
CHAPTER 20
They set out on their mission in the early evening. The sun had set, and dusk had fallen, deepening the shadows that pooled around the bushes and trees that surrounded the museum.
It took two carriages to carry them all. Deirdre had remained behind with Manco, despite both their protests. Barchester rode in the first carriage, with Tom Quick and Reed watching him. Dennis and Theo followed, with Megan and her father.
The carriages stopped around the corner from the front entrance. They disembarked swiftly, moving along the dark street to the drive and onto the grounds of the museum. They melted into the shadows of the trees that lined the drive, walking around to the back of old house.
Theo took Megan’s hand in his and squeezed it gently. She looked up at him, her heart in her eyes. “Be careful,” she whispered.
He smiled down at her and raised her hand to his lips. “I promise I will.” He leaned closer, murmuring, “I’m not one for speeches. But I swear to you that I will be back.”
Then he was gone, slipping out across the yard behind the others.
Megan watched, her heart in her throat, as her brother and her lover followed Barchester and the others to the rear door of the museum. Barchester opened the door, and they slipped inside. Megan and her father waited, watching.
Time stretched out painfully. Frank kept taking out his pocket watch and studying it as though it would give him the answer to the universe.
Finally he whispered to Megan, “It’s been fifteen minutes. How long do we give them?”