Page 82 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

“Why wouldn’t she agree?” Desmond shrugged. “It was logical. Thisbe always listens to reason.”

Theo snorted. “Clearly, you didn’t grow up with her.”

“Well, no,” Desmond admitted.

Theo drummed his fingers on his knee for a few moments, then said, “Did this man really threaten to harm Thisbe?”

“Yes, of course. I don’t remember his exact words, but his meaning was clear. The next day, Thisbe fell on the street, and this man was right there. He said she should be more careful, that she might have fallen in front of a carriage.”

“Bloody bastard.”

“You’re saying that’s why you stole the Eye?”

“I didn’t steal it. I can see what Thisbe meant about Moreland bullheadedness.” Perhaps it was not the wisest thing to say, but Desmond was growing increasingly weary of being accused of theft. “But that was why I stopped calling on Thisbe. I wanted them to believe that they had no control over me that way.” He looked at Theo. “Your visit to my workshop did a pretty thorough job of convincing them.”

“Happy to oblige.” Theo sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Though I suppose I should apologize if you were trying to protect Thisbe. It’s just... I hate for Thisbe to be unhappy.”

“So do I,” Desmond replied simply. “I never wanted to cause Thisbe distress. But I wanted even less to expose her to physical harm. Perhaps there was some other way, but I couldn’t think of one.”

Both men continued to study him. Their steady, assessing gazes reminded Desmond of the rather disconcerting stare with which the young twins sometimes regarded one, as if they could see things inside you that no one else could. The Moreland men, he thought, were an odd lot. Well, the women were, too, he supposed. But they were tremendously hard not to like. Even these two.

“I know I’m not the sort of man you’d want for your sister. I’ve no title or money. I don’t expect you to approve of me, but you’re dead wrong if you think I used Thisbe for my own ends.” Desmond wasn’t sure why it was important to him that they believe him, but somehow it was. “I did not pursue her because of the Eye. Obviously she was a lady, but I never dreamed she was the granddaughter of the dowager duchess. I admit I was wrong not to tell Thisbe about the Eye and our interest in it from the moment I realized who she was. But I was afraid of losing her. I was a fool. Haven’t you ever acted the fool over a woman?”

Theo snorted and looked at Reed, his eyes dancing. “Remember that tavern girl in Little Biddenton? You always were a soft touch.”

Reed’s cheeks turned red, but he smiled. “And what of the don’s daughter at Oxford?”

“Don’t remind me.” Theo’s smile faded as he turned to Desmond. “Men have always been fools over women at one time or another. I don’t care unless it touches one of my sisters. I don’t give a damn whether you’re poor as a church mouse or rich as Croesus, and titles are nothing but chains. Maybe I’m inclined to believe you didn’t set out to hurt Thisbe. But you deal wrongly with her again, and I’ll snap you like a twig.”

“I understand.”

“Sorry to interrupt your threats of violence, Theo, but we’re here.” Reed nodded toward the window.

The carriage had stopped before a gray stone building. “An orphanage? Your expert in criminals works in an orphanage?”

“No. He’s a resident.” Reed opened the carriage door and climbed out.

Theo, seeing Desmond’s surprise, said, “Mother’s not the only one trying to save the world. Tom Quick’s a pickpocket who made the mistake of trying to nab Reed’s wallet one day. Lad’s quick, not just with his hands, so Reed decided to put him in Mother’s orphanage and send him to school.”

“Instead of sending him to jail.”

Theo nodded. “As I said, Reed’s a soft touch.”

From what Desmond had seen of the Morelands, there wasn’t a one of them who wasn’t a soft touch. Except the dowager duchess, of course.

As soon as he walked into the building, Desmond realized that this orphanage was not like any other he’d ever seen. The walls were not a drab gray, but a pleasant light blue, and there were no pervasive scents of ammonia, gruel or sweat.

A woman bustled forward to greet them, exclaiming, “Lord Raine. Lord Moreland. What a delight to see you. Is the duchess with you today?”

“No, just us, Mrs. Wadley. I wanted to visit Tom Quick. Is he in class?”

“Classes are done for the day. He’s doing his chores, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to be pulled away.”

She settled them in a small room and went off at her same quick pace. Desmond was curious to see the boy Reed had befriended. He supposed he must adjust his view of the Moreland men again.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Wadley returned with a lad whom Desmond deemed to be no more than eight or nine years old. He was dressed in neat, fresh clothes, his blond hair combed; he would have looked like any child the same age if it had not been for his blue eyes, which were watchful and calculating. He wore a cocky expression, but Desmond could see the wariness behind it.

“Sir.” His eyes went first to Reed, then over to Theo and Desmond.