Page 81 of An Unexpected Pleasure

“Coffey must have thought that he had gotten away with it long since,” Megan agreed. “He wouldn’t have suspected that Dennis’s family would turn up after all these years, stirring up the whole matter again.”

“Look!” Theo interrupted, nodding toward Barchester’s front door. “His carriage is pulling up in front of the house. He is leaving.”

Megan turned to Theo, excitement rising in her chest. “Shall we follow him?”

A grin was his only answer as he took her arm and started back across the park toward their own carriage.

By the time they reached the carriage and climbed in, then circled around, Barchester’s carriage was almost a block ahead of them.

But it was easy enough for the coachman to keep it in sight, and they followed at a leisurely pace. Inside, Megan kept twitching aside the curtain impatiently to look for Barchester’s carriage.

“I can’t see it at all,” she grumbled.

“Neither can I, but we are headed toward the museum,” Theo told her, satisfaction in his voice.

Their suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later when they drove slowly past the Cavendish’s entrance. Barchester’s carriage sat in the driveway. On Theo’s instructions, their coach turned into the next street and parked at the corner, where they had an excellent view of the museum’s driveway.

“I would love to hear what they are saying to each other,” Megan mused, peering out past the edge of the curtain.

“Somehow, I suspect we could not sneak close enough to hear. But at least we know now that it was not merely Barchester lying. Either Coffey lied to him, or he and Coffey are in it together. There is no reason for him to go running to Coffey otherwise.”

“What shall we do now?”

“I think we certainly need to talk to Coffey. And another visit to Barchester might be in order.” Theo’s jaw tightened, and his green eyes grew cold and hard. “If it was Coffey who killed Dennis…All these years, and I did nothing….”

“You didn’t know.”

“I did not try hard enough to find out. I was too busy trying to escape my grief and guilt.”

“You are too hard on yourself.” Megan leaned forward and closed her hand over his.

His skin was warm beneath her palm, and suddenly she was very aware of the small, confined nature of the carriage. It was an intimate setting, shut away from the world by the closed curtains, cradled by the soft, buttery leather of the seats. Megan’s heart tripped in its beat.

Theo looked at her, his eyes dark and deep in the shuttered space. He turned his palm over, his hand curling around hers. Megan drew a shaky breath, reminding herself of all the reasons why nothing could ever happen between the two of them.

“I—we should probably go back,” she said quickly. “It is growing late.”

His eyes narrowed, but he released her hand slowly and said, “No doubt you are right. I think the best thing to do would be to set Tom Quick up to watch the museum—see if Coffey goes anywhere, what he does.”

Megan nodded. “Yes. No doubt.”

It was best not to think about what might have happened just then. Or why Theo had let the moment go so easily. Most of all, it was best not to consider why his letting it go engendered such a flat feeling of disappointment in her.

They rode home, speaking little, wrapped in their own thoughts. As Theo handed Megan down from the carriage in front of Broughton House, he clasped her hand for a moment longer than necessary.

“I did not hurt your brother,” he said fiercely. “Whatever it takes, I will prove it to you.”

Startled, Megan looked at him. “I know.”

“Do you? I wonder.”

“Yes,” Megan replied calmly. “I am certain of it.”

He gazed at her for a moment longer. “And if Coffey did, I promise you, he will pay for it.”

Taking her arm, he propelled her into the house.

* * *