An Unexpected Pleasure (The Mad Morelands #4)

“Oh? Did you bring them Rufus?”

“No. Reed was responsible for him. Alex and Con found him in the woods near Reed’s house last fall, rather badly torn up. An old farmer there patched him up for them and nursed him back to health. Then they brought him back here to terrorize the household. But I am the one who sent them the parrot and the boa and a number of other unseemly pets.”

“Indeed? Those are rather unusual pets.”

“I travel a good deal,” Theo responded. “Only the fear of Mother’s wrath keeps me from sending back more. I wanted to bring them a koala bear from Australia, but then I would have had to transplant eucalyptus trees for them to eat, as well, so I gave it up.”

“That’s fascinating. Where else have you been?” Megan kept her voice light and casual, though her heart sped up a little at finding herself so quickly on the threshold of the subject matter in which she was interested.

“Africa, China, the United States. India.”

“South America?” Megan suggested.

He looked off into the distance, and something in his face changed subtly, hardened. “Yes. There, too. Went searching for the headwaters of the Amazon.”

“And did you find them?” Megan watched him carefully, alert for even the most subtle signs.

Theo shrugged. Megan was about to ask him another question, but as they reached the end of the gallery and turned into the large open area of the foyer, Theo caught sight of a woman coming down the stairs, and he lifted his hand in greeting.

“Thisbe!” He turned toward Megan, saying, “Come. You must meet my sister Thisbe.”

Megan swallowed her irritation at the interruption and walked with him to the elegant staircase. She studied the woman coming down the steps.

She was tall and slender, as the duchess had been, but her hair was the rich black of Theo’s, and her eyes were an equally vivid green. Small spectacles perched on her narrow nose. She was dressed plainly in a dark skirt and white shirtwaist. Megan noticed that one cuff was ink-stained, and there was a smudge of something greenish on the blouse. She wore an abstracted look, but it vanished as she saw Theo, and she smiled broadly, her face lighting up.

“Theo!” She held out both her hands. “I haven’t seen you in—” she frowned “—well, in a long time.”

“That is because you have been locked in your shed out there for the better part of two days,” her brother replied teasingly, taking her hands in his and smiling down fondly into her face. “What have you been doing?”

“Experiments,” she replied. “I’ve been corresponding with a scientist in France regarding the effects of carbolic acid on—”

Theo raised his hands as if in surrender. “No. Please. You know I won’t understand a word of what you say.”

“Heathen,” Thisbe retorted without heat.

Theo turned toward Megan, saying, “I am the only member of my family who dislikes education.”

“No, not education. You merely dislike books,” Thisbe put in. She smiled at her brother and then at Megan. “And writing. He is the most dreadful correspondent—which is really quite horrid, as he is off traveling most of the time.” She extended her hand to Megan. “Hello, I am Thisbe Robinson, Theo’s twin.”

“I’m sorry,” Theo said. “You can see that I am equally abysmal with social skills. Thisbe, please allow me to introduce you to the twins’ new tutor, Miss Henderson.”

Thisbe looked faintly surprised, then pleased, and shook Megan’s hand heartily. “What a splendid idea. I am sure that a woman will deal much better with the boys. Have you met them yet?”

“Yes.” Megan smiled at Thisbe. She could not help but like the woman, whose candid, unaffected manner was very refreshing, especially compared to the other upper-crust women whom Megan had met, both English and American.

Theo let out a chuckle. “Actually, she met them in a typical situation. They let loose some mice on Lady Kempton and her daughter.”

“I am sure no one deserved it more,” Thisbe commented dryly. She turned to Megan to say earnestly, “There is no harm in Alex and Con, really. They are merely—”

“Lively?” Theo supplied. “Isn’t that how you described them, Miss Henderson?”

“Yes. There is nothing wrong with having energy,” Megan said stoutly. “It simply needs to be directed.”

“Quite right, Miss Henderson.” Thisbe beamed at her. “I say, I think you will deal nicely with the boys. Desmond—that is my husband—and I are always happy to help in the scientific areas. I find traditional texts quite lacking in that field.”

“As are my skills, I am sure,” Megan replied honestly. “I would welcome any help you could supply.”

No answer could have pleased Thisbe more, it seemed, for she seized Megan’s hand and shook it again with enthusiasm, promising that she would meet with her soon regarding her lesson plans. Then, with a quick smile for her brother, Thisbe was off down the rear hall, almost instantly deep in thought again.

“She and Desmond are excellent teachers in all things scientific,” Theo told her. “It is only with such small practical matters as remembering supper that they have problems. So if you want her help, I feel sure you will have to seek her out. The twins can show you where her laboratory is located—it is at the back of the yard, since she set fire to her first one and not only alarmed the servants but did some damage to my father’s workroom.”

“Your father’s workroom?” Megan asked, puzzled. She wouldn’t have expected a duke to have a workroom. She could not have said what she thought a duke did all day, but she would have supposed it involved anything but work.

“There are those who would call it a junk room, I imagine,” Theo explained. “It is a shed where he keeps his potsherds and the other artifacts he is working on. He sorts and identifies them, restores them if it’s possible. The more important pieces, of course, he puts in his collection room in the house—he has one here and one at Broughton Park—but the overflow is consigned to shelves in his workroom.”

“I see. He is interested in…antiquities, then?”

“Yes. Though only Greek and Roman. I am afraid he finds the rest of the world of little importance—the same can probably be said of everything since, oh, the time of Nero, as well.”

“I see.”

“Now, Uncle Bellard is interested in much more modern times—even as recent as the Napoleonic wars.”

“Uncle Bellard?” Megan repeated.

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