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“Simon.” She walked to him and curtsied. “I’m so pleased you were able to meet me.”
He nodded as he bowed, deciding it best not to share how equally pleased he was to see her. As intrigued as he was by Norah, he wouldn’t give her the wrong impression. He wasn’t available for a future with her or any other woman. Not when he was meant to be alone. Opening himself up to more loss wasn’t an option.
He’d only inherited because of a terrible accident and didn’t intend to marry. He would leave the holdings in an improved financial condition than when he’d inherited. The rest was up to his younger cousin, who would take the title upon his death.
“The exhibit still seems to be working its magic,” she said in a whisper with a glance over her shoulder at the visitors studying the posters.
“I’m pleased to see that.” He drank in her loveliness for a moment before forcing himself to look away and move on to the purpose of the meeting. “What is it that you wanted to review?”
“I was hoping you might have a final accounting of the amount raised for the orphanage at the unveiling.”
“I think Stockton has it.” Simon gestured toward the stairs. “Shall we see if he’s in his office?”
“Perfect.” She glanced at him as they climbed to the next level, her servants following. “How is progress on the carving?”
“It’s coming along, though a few of the markings remain unclear.” He did his best to smother his pleasure that she’d remembered what he’d been working on. Yet the interest in her expression was difficult to ignore. Few people expressed interest in his projects.
They continued the conversation until they reached Stockton’s office. As usual, the man was sitting at his desk. Simon frowned. Didn’t he ever walk the corridors to see how things were progressing? To see what had caught visitors’ attention? To see what needed updating?
Though aware of the paperwork involved in the position, it still seemed as if there were more than enough hours in the day to deal with it as well as keep a closer eye on the activities.
“Stockton.” Simon nodded. “Do you have the final numbers from the unveiling?”
The museum director stood and bowed. “Yes, of course.” He shuffled through the papers on his desk and pulled forth one to hand to Simon.
Simon skimmed the information, pleased by the numbers. He handed the sheet to Norah, who seemed surprised he’d given it to her. Did she think he wouldn’t share them? What sense would that make when it was the reason for her visit?
She nodded as she read the report. “Even better than I’d hoped. When will the funds be presented to the orphanage?”
Simon raised a brow. “When would you like?”
“The sooner the better.” She handed the paper back to Stockton with a smile. “I would like it done in the museum’s name, of course. None of this would’ve been possible without its involvement.” Her gaze shifted to Simon. “Without your help.”
“We’ll mention your father’s name as well, if that’s acceptable,” Simon suggested.
The pleasure on her face warmed him. “I appreciate that, as will my sisters.” She glanced around as if uncertain of what else to say. “I should be going. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
“Allow me to walk you downstairs.” Simon gestured toward the stairs, then looked at Stockton. “I will return shortly.”
The man nodded.
An awkward silence descended, the air heavy, as if both of them had unspoken thoughts they kept to themselves.
Norah paused when they reached the floor of her father’s exhibit. “Do you mind if I look one more time? I was watching the other visitors earlier rather than looking at the exhibit.”
“Of course.” He was touched that she wanted to. He suddenly missed the curtain that might’ve given them a bit of privacy—or at least the semblance of it.
She stepped into the room, and he followed, annoyed to see one of the lanterns missing. The light wasn’t as warm without it, nor was it as easy to read the posters. He frowned as he glanced around to see what else had changed since he’d last looked closely at it.
Then his breath caught as he noted the empty spot in the locked display case, shock spreading its cold fingers along his spine.The coin was missing. A coin that was irreplaceable as far as he was concerned. His thoughts raced. Where could it be?
“Is the coin being cleaned?” Norah asked as she joined him. She turned to Simon, eyes widening as she took in his alarm. “Simon?”
“I certainly hope so.” Yet somehow, he knew it wasn’t.
*
Norah paced Simon’soffice as she waited for his return. They’d hurried back up the stairs to ask Stockton about the missing coin only to be met with a puzzled look from the museum director.
