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While he wasn’t comfortable around most people, he liked to think he had instincts for those he trusted and those he didn’t. Stockton had done most of the hiring and only a few remained of the ones Simon had chosen when he’d first opened the museum. The time had come to better know the employees.
He climbed the stairs to his office, preferring to collect himself before he braved the public and the employees.
“Good morning, Stockton.”
The man lifted his head in surprise and jerked to his feet to bow. “My lord. What brings you by so early this morning?”
“I thought I’d spend time here today.” Simon glanced at the papers on the director’s desk, trying to decide whether he looked guilty of something. Perhaps Simon had just startled him.
“Oh? Any particular reason?” Stockton shifted the papers on the desk but didn’t attempt to hide them.
Simon realized he was being overly suspicious. “We are still pursuing the stolen coin, of course. Until we discover who is behind the thefts, I will be dropping in on a more regular basis.”
“We?” Stockton adjusted his spectacles.
Simon considered whether it was wise to share more. Then again, it was unlikely Stockton knew either Marbury or Worley, despite the fact that they had been following the museum director on occasion. They had been at the unveiling, of course, but Stockton had made no effort to socialize with the guests, nor had Simon introduced him to any.
The realization made Simon wonder if he’d handled that wrong. Stockton was an important part of the museum’s operations, and it certainly wasn’t Simon’s intent to make him feel otherwise.
“The Earl of Marbury and Viscount Worley, friends of mine, are assisting. As fellow members of the Royal Geological Society, they have numerous contacts among both treasure hunters and collectors. If there’s any word of the coin, they’ll be sure to hear it.”
“How reassuring.”
Yet Simon wondered if he felt otherwise, based on the bland expression that came over his face. “Has any additional information come to light?”
Stockton glanced at his desk again. “Unfortunately, no. I continue to make inquires, of course.” He offered a one-shouldered shrug.
Simon was curious who the man had thought to ask. “What sort of inquiries? With whom?” Perhaps he should’ve involved Stockton more in the search all along.
“Well, the employees, as you already know.” He frowned, suggesting he was trying to remember. Or perhaps to think of what he should say. “I considered sharing the issue with a friend or two who work at other museums, but I decided against doing so.”
“Oh?” Simon was acquainted with several other museum owners but was abashed to realize he hadn’t thought of mentioning it to them.
“Obviously, I wouldn’t want to do anything to harm the museum’s reputation. We have had enough problems getting visitors to come. Suggesting there is an issue with security surely won’t help.”
“While the museum’s reputation is important, the best way to maintain it is to find the coin. If you think speaking to any of your acquaintances could help, please do so.”
“Are you certain?” Stockton shook his head. “The last thing we need is for other museums to know about the problem. What if they start telling their visitors in an effort to discourage them from coming here?”
“Perhaps the public will come here just to learn more about the theft.” As he knew from personal experience, nothing spread faster than bad news. With that, he moved to his door, reaching into his trouser pocket for the key. Though it seemed ridiculous to bother locking his door when he didn’t keep anything inside, he had always done so, especially after hiring Stockton. He’d had the sneaking suspicion that otherwise he’d arrive at the museum one day to find Stockton sitting in his office.
Simon settled behind his desk, pushing aside the thought of how much he preferred his study with the cheerfully burning fire and his books. Then again, he’d found it impossible to concentrate on work there the previous day. Not when images of Norah in his lap filled his mind. Thinking of her now was enough to have him drawing a deep breath.
He glanced at his hands, which were healing nicely. He’d removed the bandages, not wanting to draw attention to his hands while at the museum. She had been right. Putting the ointment on with the bandages had quickened the healing. Never mind how Miles had shaken his head at the sight and asked how he’d ever toughen his hands if he tended them in that manner.
That was all right. He’d take Norah’s tender ministrations over toughened hands any day. Perhaps it was time to wear some sort of gloves when he boxed from now on. He didn’t want to announce his new hobby just by the state of his hands.
He’d been so upset after the encounter with Ludham, in addition to his lack of success with the investigation, that he’d taken his displeasure out on the boxing bag. Though the bout had indeed left him calmer and better able to focus, his hands had been sore. Thank goodness Norah had called.
Only then did he realize he couldn’t bring to mind even one of the ladies who’d been at the ball. He’d only had eyes for Norah.
With concerted effort, he put aside his thoughts of her to pull out a sheet of paper and ready his pen in case he wanted to jot notes while studying the articles he’d brought.
Time passed slowly as he worked his way through his reading material. Deciding he needed a respite, he rose and stretched. A glance out his open office door showed Stockton still at his desk. What on earth did the man have to do that involved so much paperwork?
Simon exited his office, wondering if it might be worth looking through the man’s desk after he left for the day. He didn’t want to question him about the issue now. It would no doubt cause him to hide anything that might be helpful.
“I’m going to walk a bit.” Simon locked the door, deciding he didn’t want Stockton snooping through his notes, even if he intended to do the same thing to him later.
