When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,72

glass, but Tessa shook her head. She was giddy enough in his presence. When he leaned back and propped his feet on a leather ottoman, she, too, wiggled into a more comfortable position. She batted away the fleeting thought that it wasn’t appropriate for a governess to slip off her shoes and tuck her feet beneath her skirts. But Carlin didn’t seem to mind, so what did it matter?

“As for John Symonton, I’m less certain,” he continued. “I called on him this morning and we had a long conversation about my travels. He attempted to persuade me to give him the map in the hope that the treasure might include artifacts of value to the Bullock Museum. The best I can say is that he’s dedicated to his studies to the point of obsession, and that such a passion could lead a man to rationalize a crime as being for the good of science.”

Tessa pondered that for a moment. “A reasonable conclusion. Yet there must be other possibilities, too. Have you been investigating anyone else?”

His face sobered. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

That grave expression made her uneasy. Perhaps it was a family member like his cousin, Edgar, who also had attended the lecture. As the moment of silence stretched out, she ventured to ask, “Won’t you tell me who?”

“Indeed. I was investigating you, my dear.”

Chapter 14

Guy watched the play of emotions across her lovely features. In the firelight, Tessa looked startled at first, then worried and watchful. She sat very still, her expressive blue eyes vigilant on him. He wanted to take her in his arms and calm her fears, but given the intensity of his desire for her, he knew that would only lead to trouble.

More trouble than he could afford.

From the moment she’d stepped into the study, he had been captivated by her presence. Her insightful conversation and astute observations had further drawn him under her spell. He felt perfectly at ease in her company and knew she felt the same with him, judging by her unconventional way of curling her stocking feet beneath her. Yet now her delightful warmth of manner had gone underground, and it was evident that she believed him to be repelled by what he’d found out.

If only she knew, his visit to St. George’s Home for Girls had stirred an entirely different reaction in him.

Upon stepping out of his carriage at the orphanage, Guy had been greeted by the unpleasant sight of a vagrant with an empty gin bottle lying in a stupor on the street. The neighborhood in the slums of Seven Dials had been crammed with pawnshops, secondhand warehouses, and rickety tenements. But at least the dingy brick orphanage had showed some signs of careful upkeep. Though the windowpanes were cracked, the glass sparkled, and the front steps were swept clean of debris.

A girl of perhaps twelve in a starched white apron answered his knock. She stared openmouthed at Guy, and upon learning his identity, left him in a cramped office and scampered off to fetch the matron. Glancing around, he saw that the piles of papers on the desk looked tidy and an attempt had been made to beautify the place with a few scraggly flowers stuck in a chipped blue vase. The air held the acrid scent of a cleaning solution, and he could hear girlish voices reciting their alphabet somewhere down the corridor.

The gaunt, middle-aged dame in black bombazine who hurried into the office introduced herself as Mrs. Plunkett. She dipped a curtsy and afforded him a look of more restrained curiosity than the girl’s. “How may I be of assistance, Your Grace?”

“I’m seeking information on a Tessa James who once lived here.”

Mrs. Plunkett obligingly removed a battered ledger from a shelf, searched the records, and found confirmation that matched the dates he provided her. “Departed here at age fourteen, eh? Why, we never let ’em go until sixteen, when they’re better prepared to deal with the harsh world out there.” Her mouth formed a thin line. “But then, ’twas before my time, milord. The last administrator had to be cast out for mistreating the girls.”

“What do you mean?”

“She used the orphans to pad her own pockets, that’s what.”

Mrs. Plunkett revealed a number of disturbing facts, then took him on a tour of the house, from top to bottom, where he saw for himself that the girls looked happy and industrious at their studies. They were garbed in clean though patched clothing, and it was painfully obvious