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“Based on the way you watched him cross the room, I have to wonder if it’s more than that.” Lady Havenby kept her gaze on Simon, her brow furrowed. “Guard your heart with that one, my dear. From what I’ve heard, he has no intention of marrying. A reliable source advised me that he has already started grooming a cousin to inherit.”
Hearing the news from Lady Havenby in addition to Lady Mendenhall should’ve relieved Norah since she didn’t plan on marrying soon, but it didn’t. She told herself she wasn’t ready for marriage. Not for several years. Yet that didn’t stop the deep ache in her chest.
She wanted to offer a light-hearted reply. Something that made it clear the information didn’t matter. But she couldn’t force anything past the lump in her throat.
As if unaware of the upset she’d caused, Lady Havenby turned away to speak with someone else.
Before Norah had regained her composure, Simon returned. “What is it?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he looked at her.
The fact that he’d noted her distress amazed her and confirmed how close they’d become in the weeks they’d known each other. It was as if an invisible thread linked them together, much like what she’d witnessed with Ella and Marbury.
The realization caught her breath. As did the notion that she didn’t want the thread to be cut. Why was it that she was starting to see what she wanted, only to learn Simon didn’t want the same thing?
Chapter Nineteen
Simon rose fromhis desk at the museum and stretched. He’d spent several hours there each day over the past three days, taking care to vary his schedule so no one knew when to expect him. He also staggered the times he walked through the exhibits. His hope had been to find something—anything—that would provide a clue as to who was behind the thefts. However, his efforts hadn’t provided any results thus far.
Whether any clues would come to light looked doubtful. Yet he had to try something. He’d visited several more museums with no results, though he now had a list of the ones interested in participating in the promotion he’d proposed.
He hadn’t heard from Norah since seeing her at the musical but hadn’t expected to. Her sister and Marbury were to be married come morning. No doubt the sisters were busy with whatever planning that entailed.
He missed her. More than he should. He’d thought having some distance would ease her hold on his thoughts, but that hadn’t been the case. She had become an integral part of his life in the past few weeks. The plans he’d made for his future were no longer certain because she made him question them. How did he want to spend the rest of his life? Remaining home alone in his study had lost its appeal. But before he could consider his path, he needed to solve the thefts.
As quietly as possible, Simon moved to his office entrance where his door stood partially ajar and peeked out. Sure enough, Stockton was at his desk, frowning as he stared at a sheet of paper. Did the man ever step away to see what was happening in the rest of the museum? Simon could count on one hand how often he’d come upon Stockton near one of the exhibits.
Just as Simon reached to open the door fully, Emerson came into view.
“Mr. Stockton? There’s a situation we would like your assistance with downstairs.”
“Oh?” The obvious annoyance in the director’s tone irritated Simon. Part of his job was to deal with problems. Perhaps Simon should move the man’s office to the main floor so he would be encouraged to watch over operations more closely. “What is it?”
“I think it’s best if you review it yourself.” Emerson shifted as if impatient. That made two of them.
“Very well.” Stockton shoved back his chair and stood, taking time to turn the paper he’d held face down.
Simon shifted out of view and listened closely. Within a few moments, only the faint sound of voices could be heard as they walked downstairs. Simon hurried to Stockton’s desk, curious to see what he’d been reviewing with such intent focus.
The paper seemed to be a page pulled from a ledger and noted various numbers, amounts, and checkmarks, along with two circled items. It appeared to be an inventory of some kind or a shipment list. But the numbers and letters neatly listed in a column might as well have been in code, for they made no sense to Simon. Did they have anything to do with his museum? He looked over the rest of the desk but didn’t open the drawers, not certain how much time he had.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs had Simon hurriedly putting the paper back in place and rushing back to his office to push the door partially closed again. He moved behind his desk but before he could take a seat, a knock sounded on his door.
“Yes?”
Stockton appeared in the entrance. “Would you care to see the latest arrivals from South America? Emerson is unpacking them now by the exhibit.”
“Of course.” He followed the director, deciding to return this evening to have a closer look at Stockton’s desk. He’d pick the locks if he had to. The inventory list struck him as odd, and he wanted to see if he could find any other clues.
*
“Ella?” Norah calledquietly after tapping on her door that evening. They’d had a lovely dinner with their grandfather earlier, but it had been bittersweet. Each of them had done their best to be jovial, yet a hint of melancholy had permeated the mood.
Now the hour was late, and everyone had retired for the night. But Norah couldn’t sleep. She had the feeling Ella couldn’t either. Not when her wedding would take place in the morning.
“Come in.”
Before Norah could open the door, Lena peeked her head into the hallway. “What is it?”
Rather than explain, Norah simply waved her closer. Lena hurried forward, already in her nightgown with a matching robe and slippers, much like what Norah wore.
