Читать книгу Reckless - Shannon Drake - Страница 7

KAT WAS AWARE OF DISCOMFORT and did not know why. As she opened her eyes, blinking from sleep, the room was first a blur. It came into focus and then she knew why the discomfort.

Isabella, Lady Daws, was staring down at her.

“You are an incredibly cruel and uncaring young woman, Katherine Adair!” Lady Daws stated, her voice low and ever cultured, but carrying with it such malice that Kat was chilled. She was shamed, thinking that she had so worried her father. But it was not this woman’s concern.

“Why, good morning, Lady Daws.” She sat up, keeping the coverlet hugged close to her bosom. She looked around. “How strange, dear lady, for this does appear to be my bedroom. My private quarters within our home, however humble.”

“Get up, Kat!” There was now a snap to her voice.

“I’ve discussed my actions yesterday with my father, Lady Daws. And I expressed my sorrow for the anxiety I caused him. I owe you no explanations.”

The woman smiled. “Of course not, dear.” Her smile was icy. “Not yet,” she added sweetly. Then she lowered her face close to Kat’s. “But I do find your behavior totally reprehensible. In my opinion, you should be sent far away, to a school where they teach girls like you how to obey and to be grateful—and to learn your place in life.”

“My place is in this house,” Kat returned lightly.

Lady Daws straightened and crossed her arms. Kat was certain that, beneath her skirts, her foot was tapping furiously.

“Ah, but you were rather anxious to leave it yesterday, weren’t you?”

Kat stared at her. To be quite honest, the woman was attractive. Her face was narrow and fine-featured, and her eyes were large and deep brown, a color that matched the thick waves of her hair. Her bearing was so upright and regal that Kat liked to imagine she wore a broomstick beneath her petticoats.

“Dear Lady Daws, please, say whatever it is you wish to say. And then, if you’d be so kind to allow me the privacy of my own room, I will be happy to rise.”

“Yes, you’ll rise, and you’ll rise quickly. We’ve company.”

“We’ve company?”

Either Isabella Daws ignored the bite in Kat’s query or simply couldn’t even entertain the notion that Kat didn’t consider the place also her home.

“Your mad dash into the sea has made the papers. Apparently, Sir Hunter extolled your…brave deed to a reporter and now your poor dear papa is both proud and concerned.”

“I made the papers?” Kat repeated, and mentally she realized that she had to thank Sir Hunter once again, no matter how difficult and condescending the man might be. “And Papa is…pleased? Who is it that is here?”

She started to rise. To her amazement, Isabella pushed her back.

“Not so fast.”

Kat let out a sound of irritation. “You were just telling me to get up!”

“Careful, girl. I may hold your future in my hands.”

Kat stared at her warily, eyes narrowing. Perhaps the woman truly was evil. Regardless, it was certainly true that she held great sway with her father.

“Really?” she queried carefully.

Isabella gave her a tight smile. “I personally think that you should be sent to a strict school, a very strict school—”

“Yes, Lady Daws, I know all about it. Eliza told me of your concern for us both last night.”

“Further education in such a place would do you very well. There’s no place for a young woman such as yourself other than in gainful employment or as the wife of a working man. But to be quite honest, you are a terrible drain on your poor father. You exhaust him, drain his talent.”

“I beg your pardon—”

“I am not finished.”

“I am!” Kat started to rise.

But this time, Lady Daws stopped her with words.

“Then you’ll never properly meet Lord Avery—or young David Turnberry.”

Startled, Kat went still.

Again, Isabella Daws lowered her face to Kat’s. “Sir Hunter MacDonald has come to your father with an offer from Lord Avery. The man will fund and provide a chaperone for you if you accompany his group as an art student and assistant to Sir Hunter on his expedition to Egypt next week. Apparently, you doodled some of your silly sketches when you were at Sir Hunter’s house. After Sir Hunter convinced the man that your father would not allow you to accept a monetary reward, Lord Avery was anxious that at least something be done. And he agreed that your sketch showed promise. There is no accounting for taste.”

Kat controlled her temper and said nothing.

“Your father is against the idea. One word from me, and he will refuse, no matter how eloquent Sir Hunter may be. And yet, one word from me, and…well, you just may be allowed to go.”

Kat stared at her then, chagrined, and in silence.

“And there we have it. Plain and simple. Let’s see. I do believe the ‘cat’ has now got your tongue.”

She thought she was so clever! Still, Kat did hold her tongue.

“Well, my dear?” Lady Daws demanded.

“Why would you help me?” Kat asked.

“Because you’ll have just so long on that excursion, Kat. And perhaps, just perhaps, you will gain something of what you’re seeking—though I doubt it. You see, I know that crowd. My stepson is one of those foolish youths, and they are so arrogant that they believe that those not within their elite circles exist merely for their amusement. I believe that you will no longer see them through such rose-tinted spectacles once you know them. And so, you will discover the truth of who and what you are.”

“I’ve nothing against either who or what I am, Lady Daws,” Kat said tautly.

“Really?” Lady Daws hiked an elegant brow. “Then it’s quite amazing how you disappeared…and then reappeared. Sir Hunter surely would have seen you home immediately, had he known where your home was. But the truth is you didn’t want to show him.”

“I had a nasty blow to the head—”

“Oh, Kat, lie to others. I know what you are.”

“How dare—”

“Spare me the indignity. You didn’t want your background known. As it has happened, your father’s talent is an unexpected asset in this little farce of yours. But here it is, on the line. You will go. You will have just the months while you are gone…and then, when you return, you will not stay. You’ll go away to school. The school of my choice. You will be sent away. And you will agree to this.”

Kat gritted her teeth. She’d had no idea just how much Lady Daws wanted her gone. Eliza was right.

“You’re not afraid for me?” Kat asked sweetly.

“Well, you are going into the desert, aren’t you? And there’s always a measure of danger on an expedition. Gold and riches tend to make men covetous. Are you afraid for yourself?”

Kat felt the slightest chill. She remembered David’s disjointed words when he had come to consciousness on the embankment. He thought he had been pushed into the river….

But if he had been in danger, that danger had been here, right here, in London. And afraid or not, she could not miss this incredible opportunity.

“I am not afraid at all,” she said coolly.

“If you get into trouble, my dear,” Isabella warned, “I will see to it that you are dealt with most seriously. In fact, your lovely face will never so much as be seen around here. Do you understand? Besides, I will have friends aboard the ship, and on the expedition, and I will know about your progress—or lack thereof—day after day!”

Now Kat was afraid. But then, once she was gone, Lady Daws couldn’t really touch her. The woman might bear the title “Lady,” but she was not at all on a social par with men as noble as Baron Turnberry and Lord Avery—nor, even, with men of renown such as Sir Hunter MacDonald.

Still…

For a moment, she wavered. She’d be leaving her father and Eliza.

Her head was suddenly spinning. The offer was astounding.

Eliza would be with their father, and though she hadn’t Kat’s spine—or sharpness of tongue—she was not in the least a weakling. She would be safe until she returned, and that was what mattered.

Nor could she prevent Papa from…forming whatever liaison he chose to form with this woman. Her mother had been gone since she’d been a child. If Papa craved feminine attention, even from this wretched woman, there was little she could do. No one could choose where another would look to find affection and solace.

Certainly, she knew all that herself.

She lifted her chin. Somehow, Lady Daws knew about her obsession with David Turnberry. Yet Kat had only ever spoken of it to Eliza, and her sister would have never betrayed her.

She must have given herself away, she thought. And it was true, coveting David was like coveting a star in the heavens.

And yet…

If only he had time to be with her, time to get to know her! Stranger marriages had come about. They were living in an enlightened age, and—

“What will it be, Kat?” Isabella asked.

Kat felt as if she were selling her soul.

“I would love to go on the season’s expedition,” she said pleasantly.

Isabella smiled smugly. “You will remember our bargain,” she said softly.

“Oh, yes. Though I feel I’ve signed my soul to the devil,” Kat said.

“There will be no more comments like that!”

“Of course not, Lady Daws.”

“Then I will leave, and you must arise. We are all invited to breakfast at Sir Hunter’s.”

With that, Lady Daws swept out of the room.

And for a panicked moment, Kat thought that she really had sold her soul to the devil.

AS KAT CAME DOWN THE STAIRS, Hunter wondered if he hadn’t somehow lost his mind. Just what was it that he was doing?

I should have just let it all go.

She was no longer wearing his sister’s day dress, but she was every bit as beautifully attired, perhaps even more so. The neckline had a most unusual design that rose fashionably against the neck, yet had a small, flattering V right at the throat. The skirt was in elegant layers. With the bustle in serious decline, there was just a small rise at the rear, and the skirts seemed to flow grandly with her every movement. The color was also something that must have been selected with her in mind, for it was an amber color that made her hair seem even more like fire, her eyes more the color of gold. That hair today was respectably pinned in a loose chignon in the back, allowing small tendrils to escape.

When her eyes touched his, they were alight with a question. He knew she was wondering why he was doing this for her.

He offered her the slightest grin, and a shrug. I haven’t the foggiest notion! he might have responded.

Or maybe he did. Was it just petty annoyance that such a young woman would so blindly covet such a young fool as David Turnberry? Was he annoyed that her fixation was not on him? Ridiculous, of course, because she might not be from his customary social circles, but neither was she a woman to be taken lightly. He didn’t dare take a closer look at his emotions.

“Good morning, Katherine,” he said. He realized that her father was staring at her with a strange look in his eyes, a mix of worry, concern. Lady Daws had a look of annoyance. Eliza gazed at her sister with anxiety, as well. Was she, too, seeking something from all this?

“Good morning,” Katherine replied, and her eyes moved to light upon her father. Was he concerned that their home had been thus invaded? He must know everything that Lady Daws had said to her.

William Adair stretched his hands out. Kat, her head at a curious angle, a small smile curling her lips, took his hands as she reached the landing. “My princess of the sea,” William murmured softly as she stood in front of him. He turned to look at Hunter. “A man’s riches, you see, Sir Hunter, are not in gold or coin. My daughters are my treasure.”

Hunter decided that he not only liked the man, but admired him greatly. But he felt a slight ripple of unease. His intentions, if not entirely honorable, were at the least to teach his “treasure” a sad lesson in life—that such men as David Turnberry were not worth the seeking. And he felt a strange excitement, as well, because he had discovered a treasure himself. Those who had seen William Adair’s work referred to him as the “king of the sea,” for his paintings of great ships at sail were exquisite.

That he made most of his income doing individual and family portraits was not a waste, for he was excellent at such work, as well; it was evident in the oils he had done of his daughters, framing either side of the firelight. Just as he caught the wind and the fury of the waves in his seascapes, he had caught something special in his subjects in his portraits. There, in Eliza, was the pride, and in Kat’s face the recklessness in the eyes, the dreams in the slight upturn of the lips.

And, of course, it was true, absolutely, that his daughter showed hints of his talent in her quickly dashed-off sketch.

“My dear, Sir Hunter has come to ask the family to breakfast. It seems that Lord Avery is most insistent on meeting you, and seeing that you receive his patronage, as well. I have explained that no thanks of any kind is necessary, but it seems that Sir Hunter and Lord Avery wish what they consider a favor from me in return.”

“A favor?” Kat said. She smiled, but her eyes narrowed slightly, letting Hunter know that she was wary of this “favor.”

“I’m a tremendous fan of your father’s work,” Hunter said.

“Yes, and…” William began, still looking a bit uncertain.

“Oh, Father!” Eliza cried. “You mustn’t be so stunned.” Eliza spun on Kat with a brilliant smile. “Sir Hunter, did you know, is close friends with the Earl of Carlyle—who has one of Papa’s paintings on his walls at his castle! So Sir Hunter knew who Papa was when they met, and he wants to commission several oils from Papa, and…and he thinks you show equal promise! Mr. Thomas Atworthy, one of the finest tutors from the college, will be accompanying the group with which Sir Hunter is associated on their dig this season, and he wants to take you on as a pupil, and in return, of course, you will be at the excavations, serving as an assistant for Sir Hunter, helping in many ways—sketching and keeping notes. Papa has assured him that you can act in the capacity of secretary with diligence and capability!”

He watched Kat spin around, look at her father, and then at Lady Daws.

Hunter had been afraid that his entire scheme—though rather clever, he thought—might still be far too overwhelming for William Adair.

But he’d discovered that he had an ally.

Lady Daws.

He’d never been overly fond of the woman himself, not that he knew her well. He had seen her on occasion at various social events. Since the death of her husband, perhaps five or six years past, she had been into a number of strange enterprises. He’d heard that her husband’s son had completely alienated himself from his stepmother, and that she had therefore been left scrambling to make a living. A sad state of affairs. Except, there had been rumor that she had married the old fellow in the hopes that he would make a quick exit from the world of the living.

Apparently, she had sometime ago befriended William Adair. Hunter knew that she had put herself forward to him as something of an art expert and had been busy selling his work.

He had a strong suspicion that her commissions were well above the artist’s take.

But at the moment, he was certain, the woman was eager to assist him. Perhaps she didn’t care for competition from the man’s rather extraordinary daughters.

Kat looked at him then, her hazel eyes burning with excitement. “So…this is all true. I would accompany your group on the voyage and during the entire season in Egypt?”

“Yes, of course,” he said pleasantly. “I know that I am asking a great deal to tear you away from your home and your family.” His sarcasm was certainly audible only to her. “And there are long days at sea. A few stops along the way…perhaps a week spent in Rome. And you will have to work, I’m afraid, but in return, you’ll have time most days with a man considered to be one of the finest art tutors in our country. Of course,” he lied, “I haven’t the least idea if such an arrangement appeals to you. You—and your father—must give the concept grave consideration.”

She glanced immediately at her father.

Lady Daws was also looking at him. He still appeared uncertain.

“Yes, well, please, think on it,” Hunter said. “In the meantime, I entreat all of you to come for breakfast at my town house. And there, Mr. Adair, should you have more questions or concerns, you can speak with Lord Avery himself. So, please, do come.”

“Oh, yes!” Eliza answered for them all.

“Papa?” Kat said.

“Sir Hunter, thank you for your kindness. It would be churlish of me, I suppose, to refuse such an invitation,” William Adair said. “But if Kat accompanies you, she will fulfill all the tasks that you have for her. I do stress that there will be no reward given or accepted.”

“I will make your wishes known to Lord Avery,” Hunter assured him. “My carriage awaits,” he reminded them.

“But we’re an entire household!” Eliza pointed out.

“I’m returning now, on my own. I rode my horse behind the carriage. I think that the four of you will find you’ve plenty of room.”

Kat’s eyes were on his again, alive with speculation. He inclined his head slightly in her direction, bid them all farewell and departed.

They would, he was certain, follow.

ELIZA, KAT KNEW, WAS NERVOUS about meeting the great Lord Avery. But she herself was in a similar state about another momentous meeting.

With David, of course. It did occur to her that Lord Avery’s lovely daughter might be there, as well. But she had watched David Turnberry from afar for so long, and she was certain in her heart that Margaret could not really love him. In fact, surely, she was being pressured into the marriage but was doubtless in love with someone else. Kat had convinced herself that if she could somehow make David fall in love with her and end his relationship with Margaret, the young woman would be entirely grateful.

The carriage pulled up under the porte cochere.

“The house is magnificent, isn’t it, Papa?” Eliza said. To Kat she whispered, “Ah, and so is Sir Hunter!”

Kat looked up. As they exited their host’s carriage, the man himself was there. Kat had to acknowledge that Hunter made quite a striking picture. He wore a gray suit, cut admirably to his lean and muscled form, a brocade waistcoat, white shirt beneath. His stance was nonchalant, yet still tall and imposing. His eyes were filled with humor, and Kat found herself resentful despite his largesse—this was all a game to him. She had amused him, and he would be further amused to watch her as the weeks wore on. Was he hoping that she would fail? Did he mock her quest, find it ridiculous?

Yes, well, the majority of the sane world would, an inner voice warned.

And yet what did it matter? He mocked her, yes, maybe was even betting with his friends on when she would realize her position in life. And whatever that might be, it wasn’t among these elite.

Still, her father could prosper from Sir Hunter’s patronage. And if Lord Avery were impressed with her father’s work, a truly decent living could be found.

Moments later, they were all inside, and Hunter was leading the way to the drawing room. Kat hadn’t realized that there were already visitors within and was at a disadvantage when Hunter instantly said, “David! I’ve brought your mermaid. Lord Avery, Margaret, may I present Miss Katherine Mary Adair, her father, William, sister, Eliza, and I believe you’ve met Lady Daws.”

Whatever other introductions went round, Kat did not know. She was completely unaware of all else, because David Turnberry was standing and looking at her, his smile deep and full of admiration. He walked to her, taking her hands—touching her!—and she was aware of nothing but the force of his eyes.

“I cannot convey what a pleasure this is,” he said, and his voice was such a tremulous tenor, so full of emotion, she was afraid that her knees would give up. “You saved my life. And I am eternally grateful.”

Perhaps her adoration, despite the fact that she had been quite certain she could hide it, was far more apparent than she would have wished, because he quickly stepped back, releasing her hand. “You risked your own life. Truly, I will never thank you enough.”

She, who was usually so quick with words, found herself speechless.

“My God, and what a beautiful mermaid from the sea!” Another voice extolled, and then a second man, tall, lean and dark with deep blue eyes, stepped between her and David. She recognized him as one of David’s regular companions. “Robert Stewart, at your service. And may I say, should I ever so sadly fall into the drink, as well, Miss Adair, that you would be there to do me like service?”

“Miss Adair!” And now, it was Margaret who spoke, her voice as soft as the touch of her hand. “I’m Margaret Avery, and I, too, must express my deepest appreciation. Were it not for you being there, being so capable, brave, poor David might not… Oh, how easily he might have drowned!”

Kat felt her cheeks color; the young woman sounded so sincere, so sweet and so very admiring. The praise was beginning to make her uncomfortable. She had thought that she would revel in this moment, glory in it, and instead, she felt the need to protest.

“Please…it was…I swim very well,” she said simply.

She felt a touch on her shoulder. Hunter was behind her. She longed to shake him off, but he murmured, “Ah, but the thing of it is, you did not save just any life. You saved David’s! So here, we are all grateful—as would be the friends and loved ones of any man’s—or woman’s—life that was saved.”

Then Kat realized that Hunter was directing her toward an older man. “Miss Katherine Mary Adair, Lord Avery,” Hunter said.

She managed to offer her hand. “My Lord.”

“Jagger to my friends, my dear,” the fellow said, smiling. She liked him instantly. He was tall and gaunt, white-haired, and with a gentle smile that reminded her of his daughter’s. She felt her cheeks flame slightly as she realized that both these people, who were being so kind to her, would be appalled if they were aware that her humble sights were set on David.

Who would be affianced to Lady Margaret.

And still…

They were rich. Titled. The world was theirs. They could have anything.

She wanted only one thing in the world.

And she could not give up her quest.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you…Jagger,” Kat said softly.

“No, no, my dear, the pleasure is mine. In so many ways! We were eager to offer a reward, but it seems, according to Sir Hunter, that none will be accepted. And it is not, I’m afraid, with any thought of reward that I have championed Hunter’s suggestion that you must accompany us, both to work and to learn. We would have had to find an assistant somewhere, and Professor Atworthy will be pleased to have a student such as you. And I am quite in awe to meet your father. Mr. Adair!” he said, addressing William. “Your ships at sea entrance me. There is one on the wall in a castle belonging to a good friend, and I have long coveted it. He did not know where the artist was to be found. And now, I have made your acquaintance!” He chuckled. “The Earl of Carlyle has not yet had that pleasure, so I have one-upped the man, you see.”

Her father looked rather flushed, as she was sure she herself was. But he did stand straight and proud, as well. “Lord Avery, I must tell you, I am not a man who needs or feeds on flattery. You need not feel that you must purchase any of my pieces because of what has occurred. Your words are kind. And your sponsorship of my daughter is an incredible piece of fortune for her.”

“The apple does not fall far from the tree, dear fellow. I try to think of myself as a patron of the arts. She is so young…Sir Hunter showed me the little sketch that she did and I was instantly enchanted. Mr. Adair, you are doing us the favor.”

Lord Avery could not be judged as anything other than sincere. William Adair ceased any protest. “Lord Avery, I thank you.”

Emma appeared at the entryway. “Breakfast is served,” she said cheerfully.

Kat was still in pure bliss as they filed into the dining room.

Hunter, however, had made the seating arrangements, and she found herself not beside David, but between Lord Avery and his daughter. Lady Daws was between David and Robert Stewart—good heavens, she had managed to completely forget the woman!—and Eliza was seated next to David’s other close friend, Allan…Allan something. He was fair-haired and pleasant, and he smiled with approval when he looked at her, and naturally, she smiled when she looked back.

“What a lovely breakfast, Emma!” Margaret said cheerfully, helping herself to a slice of ham as the plate went round the table. “Ah, muffins, eggs, ham…bacon! And soon we’ll be on a ship, and off to foreign parts—we’ll miss your cooking, Emma!”

Emma nodded, pleased with the compliment, but said, “My lady, there will be fine fare aboard the ship, and in the company of such prestigious folk, I daresay, none of us will suffer.”

“But nothing will be so fine as your creations,” Robert Stewart said, and catching Kat’s eye, he winked.

Margaret shivered. “This is such an adventure for all of you! I’m not at all sure why we can’t remain right here where we are, in London. After all, London is the heart of civilization!”

Margaret’s words made Kat forget any sense of shyness, or that she was not among the company she usually kept. “But London is the heart of civilization because we English have explored so vastly, in such faraway places!”

“Bravo, Miss Adair!” David said, delighting Kat.

Margaret did not seem to take offense. She laughed. “That’s because you haven’t been wretchedly seasick for days on end. Or felt the desert sands in your mouth when you breathe! You’ll see.”

“I’ve never gotten seasick,” Kat murmured.

“Because you’re a mermaid!” Robert Stewart teased.

“No, because she has a sense of adventure,” Hunter murmured.

Lord Avery cleared his throat. “Indeed, a joie de vivre. We’ve forgotten, Hunter, I believe. I am, dear friend, sorry that I neglected to mention that we owe you a debt, as well. You, too, went diving in for David and wound up rescuing the rescuer.”

“Oh, but you see, she didn’t really need rescuing,” Hunter said, looking at Kat. Then he looked at her father apologetically. “In my fear that she should drown, I believe I caused her injury.”

“But ‘all’s well that ends well!’” Eliza quoted cheerfully.

“Indeed,” Lady Daws said, staring at Kat with narrowed eyes. “Yes, now the dear girl will have excellent opportunities, and, gentlemen,” she added, her gaze sliding from Sir Hunter to Lord Avery, “you will have works of sheer passion and genius to hang on your walls.”

“Here, here!” Lord Avery said. “When will we see some of your work, Mr. Adair?” he added.

“I…I…”

“There is a great deal of it hanging in my apartments,” Lady Daws said. “After breakfast, perhaps, we will all take a very small expedition and go see them.”

“Oh, I’m afraid not,” Hunter said. “I’m due at the museum to tie up a few loose ends with Brian. And Miss Adair must accompany me.”

“But dear Lord Avery!” Lady Daws persisted. “There is so little time left before you leave the country!”

“Hunter, you and Miss Adair go on to the museum,” Lord Avery said. “If you will forgive me, Hunter, the rest of us will go on Lady Daws’s art expedition! She is quite right. Time is a precious commodity right now.”

“Indeed, Lord Avery, I wouldn’t deny you such a pleasure.”

“I should accompany the crowd,” Kat murmured. “I know my father’s work so well—”

“But I shall be there! And you must learn your duties, Katherine,” Lady Daws said.

“I will be there, as well,” Eliza said firmly.

“Yes, you do need to become aware of what the future will bring,” Hunter said, staring at her. His eyes were hard. She didn’t know if he was referring to all that she needed to know regarding ancient Egypt—or if she needed to learn that, despite the charm and camaraderie they were all enjoying today, her place among them was slightly below the rest.

“But surely,” Kat murmured, “one afternoon will not matter so much?”

“One afternoon matters greatly when so few are left,” Hunter said.

“I insist you accompany us!” Robert Stewart protested gallantly.

“She must not,” Lady Daws said firmly. “Such an excellent offer for learning does not come to every…young woman.”

Kat bit her tongue, wondering just what adjectives Lady Daws really intended to use.

She looked at her father, who was smiling at her with assurance. She realized that he believed her protests were because she was worried about him. “It’s all right, Kat. If you need to see the museum, then you must do so.”

“We are agreed, then,” Hunter said, rising. Kat refrained from giving him a baleful stare and rose, as well, politely excusing herself.

“You do ride?” Hunter said. “I will send Ethan and the carriage with your family.”

“Of course I ride,” Kat lied. She could, indeed, swim like a fish. She’d grown up, however, in the City of London where public transportation was excellent and there was no need to ride a horse.

She saw her father frown.

He, like the other men, had risen when she had.

Forgetting David for one moment as she saw her father’s concerned face, she turned to Lord Avery. “Truly, my lord, my father is a genius,” she said proudly. “As you will see.”

“I have seen!” Lord Avery assured her. He turned to her and clasped her hands in his. “All will be well, my child. You will see.”

She thanked him.

Hunter was at her side. His hand was on her elbow. She bid the others farewell.

“Oh, but it isn’t goodbye! We will have a lovely time together for weeks and weeks…months!” Lady Margaret assured her.

Guilt rippled through Kat. She smiled. “Of course. And thank you.”

“Good heavens, this is more like an Italian goodbye,” Hunter said impatiently. “We are merely headed in opposite directions for the afternoon.”

“I shall call you this evening,” Lord Avery told Hunter, “if the blasted telephone works.”

“Now and then,” Hunter agreed wryly. “If not, we’ll talk soon enough.”

Kat looked back as they departed the room. She thought that David was studying her pensively.

And with admiration.

Her heart thundered.

But soon they were at the carriage entrance to the house. Ethan was there with Hunter’s massive mount and a smaller animal—one fitted out with a sidesaddle.

“You don’t ride, do you?” Hunter said, studying her face.

She shot him a glance filled with the venom that had been growing in her heart. “I will, never worry,” she said shortly, and moved toward the animal. Her skirts were cumbersome, but she was determined to get on the beast and ride.

Ethan, holding the reins, started to move forward. Hunter was there before him, his hands on her waist as he lifted her. She felt his touch as he adjusted her limbs and thrust her feet into the stirrups. The length of her burned with outrage.

“You’ll be all right,” he said. “We’re not going far.”

“Yes, it’s quite amazing that we’re going, isn’t it?”

He looked up at her where she sat. “And what does that mean?”

She leaned down, cheeks burning, not caring to have this argument with Ethan so near. “It’s amazing that it’s truly necessary that I begin learning the volumes regarding Egyptology this very afternoon.”

He studied her gravely. “Do you wish to discard the entire idea?”

“Of going to the museum?” she said hopefully.

“Of going to Egypt.”

She fell silent, staring at him, biting her lower lip. He left her side, thanking Ethan, taking the reins to his own mount. He leapt onto the beast with the agility of one who had ridden since birth. To her horror, she wavered tenuously as her own horse followed his.

Dear heaven, she thought. Would that this afternoon soon be over!