When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,58

similar assurance came from Peabody, the burly ex-soldier who patrolled the grounds at night. The only thing of interest Tessa discovered was that Peabody always went down to the kitchen for breakfast at six, which explained how Orrin had evaded the man’s meaty clutches.

The butler took an order for coffee from the duke and departed along with the guard. Left alone with Carlin, Tessa ventured to comment, “I don’t wish to gainsay Roebuck, but what he told you isn’t entirely true. When I went out to the garden this morning, the back door was unlocked.”

The duke’s eyes narrowed on her. He made no reply, nor did he return to sorting his papers. Bathed in the first rays of dawn, with his hands on his hips, Carlin resembled an avenging angel. Her heart began to pound. She had never witnessed such a look of cold contempt directed at her.

Lud, she must have underestimated the depths of his displeasure. Or perhaps his frustration over the burglary had amplified it.

Retreat seeming the wisest action, she curtsied. “Lady Sophy will be waking up soon, Your Grace. I had best return to the nursery.”

“No.” The word was punctuated by the click of the latch as he turned to close the study door. “Sit down, Miss James.”

That formal address increased her uneasiness. Her nerves frayed, she sank into the massive carved chair that she’d used during her first interview, the one that made her feel like a doll sitting on a throne. She was forced to tilt her head back to regard Carlin, who remained on his feet.

“I’ve already explained about Orrin,” she said in a conciliatory tone. “I am not engaged to marry him. I’m very sorry for disobeying the rules and it won’t happen again. There is really nothing more I can say.”

“I have quite a lot to say. In particular about the burglary.”

“Oh.” She let herself relax a little. So this wasn’t about her taking the governess post under false pretenses, after all. Maybe he just wanted to discuss what had happened. “Have you determined yet if anything is missing?”

“All of my diaries,” he said in a clipped tone. “I placed them in the trunk yesterday evening. But now they’re gone.”

Aghast, she stared up at him. “That’s dreadful! Your lovely drawings and your notes … they must be irreplaceable. But why would someone take them?”

“I believe the thief was seeking that pirate’s map. It could be worth a small fortune in gold.”

“Oh. Then perhaps the culprit was someone who heard about it at your lecture.”

“Or someone who’d already known of its existence.” Still wearing that strange accusatory expression, Carlin prowled back and forth in front of her. “I first mentioned the map to you on the day that you and Sophy were in the conservatory. The same night I came upon you hiding here in the darkness. Right over there by my trunk.”

Icy fingers crept over her skin. Was he suggesting that she was behind this robbery? Surely not. “I was looking for a book on heraldry.”

“In my study? I found that odd at the time and even more so now.” He slowly shook his head. “I suspect you were hunting for the treasure map. When I took you to the library, you asked about it again. Tell me, was that kiss designed to put me off my guard?”

She bristled at his wrongful interpretation of events, even as a part of her cringed that he could think her so devious. “Certainly not. Carlin, you must believe me.”

He stalked closer, planted his hands on the arms of her chair, and stared straight into her face. In the early sunlight, the gold flecks in his brown eyes flashed like sparks of fire. “Stop lying to me, Tessa. You’ve been lying all along. And I presume you have a partner in this scheme.”

“A-a partner?”

“Orrin Nesbitt. Did you pass those notebooks to him just now in the garden?”

“No! I swear I did not.”

His lips compressed. “I’ve sensed from the start that you were not who you claimed to be. I should have heeded my instincts, Banfield’s too. He also saw you with Nesbitt in the garden.”

So that was why the secretary had looked so suspiciously at her and had requested a private word with the duke. Her spirits sank even lower. “I already explained to you, Orrin is merely a friend.”

“Enough of these Banbury tales. A constable will be summoned to take you to Bow Street. The Runners will uncover the truth. If necessary, you’ll be arraigned