Page 43 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

Now both of Carson’s eyebrows shot up. “Following you! My dear chap, you have an inordinately high opinion of my interest in your whereabouts. I told you why I came. You seemed to have enjoyed it a great deal last time.” He grinned. “Now I understand why.”

Desmond grimaced and walked past Carson into the laboratory. The move did nothing to end the conversation, for the place was empty. Desmond sighed and sank down onto his stool, resigning himself to a conversation about Thisbe.

He must tell Carson something to satisfy his curiosity; it was the worst luck that out of all of Gordon’s band of scientists, Carson had been the one to catch him with Thisbe. None of the others were likely to ever see Thisbe, let alone talk to her, but Carson belonged to her world. He might meet Thisbe at some party; no one would think it odd if Carson called on her.

“I assume you know who Miss Moreland is,” Desmond began.

“If you mean, do I know that the Duke of Broughton’s family is named Moreland, the answer is yes, I can guess her identity. I don’t remember the girls’ names, but I know there are a few.” He strolled over to sit down facing Desmond. “Does Gordon know you have an entrée into the Mad Morelands?”

“Don’t call them that,” Desmond snapped. “They’re not mad at all. They’re more intelligent than most of the people in the world—they’re just...different.”

“Well.” Carson pulled back, a speculative expression on his face. “You’re very...impassioned about the Moreland family. Is there something more there than getting Annie Blue’s Eye?”

“I’m not trying to get the Eye. I didn’t seek Thisbe out because she was a Moreland. I’m not using her to get inside their home.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I met her by chance. I didn’t know who she was.” Desmond looked at Carson. He wasn’t sure he could trust him. However, Carson was probably as close to a friend as he had. And, in any case, what choice did he have?

With a sigh, Desmond poured out the whole story, beginning with the first lecture, though he carefully excised any mention of the kisses they had shared. Carson listened to the end without speaking. Then he let out an explosive breath and said again, “Well.” He rose and began to pace. “This is certainly...unexpected.”

“I realize it sounds like the stuff of melodrama.”

“Oh, it’s far more implausible than melodrama.” Carson’s lips quirked. “If it were anyone but you telling me this, I would be certain you were playing a prank.” He returned to Desmond. “I must say, you’re a more honorable man than I. I would have used her to get the Eye.”

“You aren’t in love with her.”

“Clearly you are.”

Desmond shrugged helplessly. “I know it’s impossible—there’s no hope for me. But I can’t change how I feel.”

“Gordon must be furious.”

“Disappointed is more like it. Deeply disappointed. I feel like a worm for ruining his hopes. But I simply cannot steal from her family.”

“But if you explained to her how it happened...”

“Really? If you were she and I gave you such an unlikely story—‘I’m not a fortune hunter and I met you entirely by chance, but, by the way, I would really like to have a valuable object in your grandmother’s possession’—would you believe it?”

“When you put it that way...”

“Especially now, after I’ve known who she was for over a fortnight, and I still haven’t told her about it. I have been hiding it from her.”

“But you haven’t tried to find the Eye during that time—surely that’s proof of something.”

“I told the professor I would look for it.”

“And have you?”

“Not to any great extent. It’s not easy to rifle through anyone’s possessions when you have someone with you all the time. I could... It might be possible to learn about it through her little brothers. They’re into everything. If anyone has seen it, they have. And they wouldn’t have any idea it would be wrong to tell me. But I can’t abuse the trust of two children. I feel guilty even thinking about it.”

“You know your problem, Desmond? You feel too bloody guilty. A little dose of self-interest would do you some good. Perhaps I could lend you some—I’ve plenty to spare.”

Carson’s quip brought a ghost of a smile from Desmond. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I doubt it would help.” He studied his hands for a moment. “Carson, will you...? Could you not tell her about all this?”

“Miss Moreland?”

“Yes. Or anyone, really.”