Wicked. Shannon Drake

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СКАЧАТЬ with the morning sun casting bright rays through to light the marble flooring and elegantly papered walls.

      The earl was there, not seated but standing, hands clasped behind his back, at one of the long windows overlooking a central garden.

      “Good morning, Miss Montgomery,” he said, turning to greet her. Due to the mask, she was ever more aware of the sharp blue color and piercing quality of his eyes.

      “Indeed, it seems fine enough.”

      “Were you able to sleep well enough after the disturbance?” he inquired politely, as if she were certainly a welcome guest.

      “I slept just fine, thank you.”

      “Ajax was no trouble?”

      “Ajax is a lamb, just as Mrs. Prior informed me.”

      “Usually,” he agreed pleasantly enough. “Well, you must join me for some breakfast, Miss Montgomery. I hope we have something that you might desire. Omelettes, oatmeal, toast, jam, bacon, fish…?”

      “I seldom eat heavily in the morning, Lord Stirling, but I do thank you for your generous hospitality. However, I hate to take advantage of it.”

      He smiled, quite grimly, she was certain.

      “Hospitality is easily afforded here.”

      “Too easily,” she said sharply.

      “I do apologize for my lack of manners last night, but you did take me quite by surprise. So you work for the museum?”

      She sighed deeply. “I am quite knowledgeable, I assure you. And yes, I work for the museum.”

      He walked to the table that had been set with shimmering silver, a snowy cloth and chafing dishes. From an urn he poured a cup of coffee. “Tea, Miss Montgomery? Or do you prefer coffee?”

      “Tea will be lovely, thank you,” she murmured.

      “How long have you worked for the museum?” he asked.

      “About six months.”

      “And your work for the museum had nothing to do with your guardian’s appearance here?” he asked.

      The words were politely spoken but they had a frightening edge. She decided that she liked him better when he was angry. There was something quite unnerving about the ease of his movement and the pleasantness of his tone.

      She accepted the cup of tea he offered to her, and with little choice, also took a seat in the chair he pulled out for her convenience. He sat next to her, close, his chair at an angle, his knee nearly touching hers.

      “Lord Stirling, I do assure you, Tristan is in no way involved with my work!” She didn’t add that she kept her guardian as far from the museum as she could at all times. “I swear to you, I gained my position there through knowledge, work and dogged determination! And I’m terribly afraid that I am going to lose that position,” she added bitterly. “Sir John has no tolerance for tardiness.”

      “Sir John?”

      “Sir John Matthews. He is my immediate superior.”

      “The department is run by David, Lord Wimbly,” he said sharply.

      “Yes, yes. But Lord Wimbly seldom…” She refrained from saying that the man seldom actually worked! “He has many functions to attend. His work is seldom at the museum itself. Sir John sees to the actual care and study of the exhibitions. He works closely with two men who have been on many excavations themselves, Alex Mittleman and Aubrey Sizemore. When there is a new exhibit, Lord Wimbly is present, and with Sir Hunter MacDonald, they make the arrangements. They also choose what purchases shall be made for the galleries, and they are in charge of seeing who receives grants for study and further expeditions.”

      “Where do you fit in?” he demanded.

      She flushed slightly. “I read hieroglyphics. And naturally, loving the subject as I do, I have the patience and care to work with artifacts.”

      “How did you get the job?” he demanded.

      “I was there one day when Sir John happened to be working alone. I had come to view a new exhibit of artifacts from the New Kingdom, when a box arrived. Sir John could not find his glasses, and I was able to decipher the information he needed from a stone within. He needed someone. There was a meeting and I was hired.”

      He had been staring at her steadily all the while. She continued to feel ill at ease, aware that she had seldom been watched quite so intensely.

      She set her cup down. “I don’t know why on earth you believe that I’m lying or making any of this up. You are free to ask any of the men involved, and you’ll learn that I’m telling the truth. However, this job is important to me.” She hesitated. “My guardian…well, his past has not always been the most pure. I am doing all that I can, My Lord, to see that we are respectable. I’m deeply distressed that Tristan fell over your wall—”

      He interrupted her with a choked sound of laughter. “Imagine! And I had been about to believe your every word!” he exclaimed.

      She felt her anger rising, and also her color, for he had every right to laugh. She stood. “I’m afraid, Lord Stirling, that you are doing nothing but seeking revenge upon me as well as Tristan, and that there is nothing I can say or do that will stop you from pressing charges. I can tell you only that my work is very important to me, that Tristan is often foolish and misled but never evil, and that, if you’re going to press charges, you must just go ahead and do so. If I don’t appear at work soon, I will surely be fired. That may not matter, because I would never deny my association with Tristan, and once you file charges, word will get out and I will lose my job anyway.”

      “Oh, do sit down, Miss Montgomery,” he said, suddenly sounding weary. “I admit that as yet I’m still feeling a bit…wary, shall we say? Regarding you both. However, for the moment, I suggest that you take a chance. Play along with me. If you’re ready, we’ll get you into work right now, and I’ll see to it personally that you receive no reprimands for tardiness.”

      Stunned, she sat in silence.

      “Sit. Finish your tea.”

      She sat, a frown creasing her brow. “But—”

      “I haven’t been to the museum in quite a while. I wasn’t even aware of how the hierarchy in your department worked. I think a journey in will be quite appropriate for me at this time.” He rose. “If you’ll be so good as to be at the front door in five minutes…?”

      “But what about Tristan?”

      “He needs the day in bed.”

      “I have barely even seen him. I must get him home.”

      “Not today, Miss Montgomery. Shelby will have the carriage at the museum doors at closing time.”

      “But—?”

      “Yes, what haven’t I covered?”

      “I…must go home. And then, there’s Ralph.”

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