Page 87 of An Unexpected Pleasure

They followed the hansom, staying a discreet pace behind it. At last the cab came to a stop, and the woman got out. As they watched through a slit in the curtain, she walked up the steps to an elegant white Georgian mansion and entered.

Megan glanced up at Theo. “Any idea who lives there?”

“Oh, yes,” Theo replied. “I do indeed. That is the home of the late Lord Scarle.”

Megan stared. “Lady Scarle? Your Lady Scarle?”

“I must point out, she is not mine,” Theo responded.

“My, my, my. So all the while she has been chasing you, she has had Coffey dangling, too.”

“It would appear. Very interesting.” He looked at Megan, light dancing in his eyes. “I think we shall have a number of calls to make tomorrow.”

They drove home, talking over what they had seen that evening and speculating on what it all meant. When they reached Broughton House, they found it not dark, as they had expected, but with lights blazing.

“What the devil’s going on here?” Theo murmured, and they quickly disembarked from the carriage and hurried inside.

They were met by the butler, looking rather less composed than he usually did. “Lord Raine!” he exclaimed, looking relieved, and strode forward to meet them. “I am so glad you have returned.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid, sir, that someone attempted to break into the house.”

“What?” Theo glanced over at Megan, then back to the butler.

“They were lurking in the rear garden. One of the footmen saw a man peeking in a rear window. He gave chase, setting up a cry, but by the time he and the others got outside, the intruders were gone.” He paused, then added, “I thought it best to wait until you or Lord Reed came home and inform you of the attempt.”

“Yes, that’s good. No point in worrying my father.” Theo politely ignored the fact that his father, far from worrying, probably would have forgotten about the whole matter by morning.

“Quite so.” The butler was equally aware of his father’s propensities. “The intruders did drop something, though. Simms found it beneath the window where he had seen the man peering in. Doubtless he used it to try to pry the window open.”

The man held out his hand, with a slender rectangular object about four inches long held carefully between his forefinger and thumb, as though it might contaminate him.

“Excellent.” Theo reached out for the object, and as he brought it closer, Megan saw that it was a folding pocketknife.

The butler, having accomplished his mission, bowed and left. Theo looked down at the knife, and Megan, watching him, saw the color drain from his face.

“Theo! What is it?” She moved to his side, alarmed.

Theo was staring at the knife as though it had turned into a snake in his hand.

“Are you all right?” Megan asked. “Do you recognize it?”

“Yes. Oh, yes, I recognize it, all right. It belongs to me.” He turned his stunned face to look at her. “But ten years ago I lent it to Dennis.”

CHAPTER 18

A shiver ran down Megan’s back.

“My brother?” she asked. “Dennis had it?”

“Yes. He had lost his, and he was cutting something, and I gave mine to him and told him to keep it till he got another one. But then…”

“This is absurd,” Megan said crisply, dismissing her moment of superstitious fear. “It can’t be the same one. It probably just looks like it.”

“It is,” Theo insisted, holding it out to her. “Turn it over. There are my initials scratched on the back. I did it when I was ten. I got it for Christmas, and Reed got one just like it, and he was forever picking mine up. So I scratched my initials in it. It was a good knife. I carried it for years.”

Megan looked down at the knife, her thumb rubbing absently over the crudely carved TM on the handle.