Reckless

by Shannon Drake

  “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!

  Chapter 5

  ELIZA DIDN’T REALIZE THAT she’d been holding her breath until Lord Avery said, “I must have this series.”

  The man had been studying one of her father’s finest collections, a set of five oils on canvas featuring different sailing vessels in different hues. Morning, with brilliant golds, yellows and oranges. Evening, with silver and shades of mauve and gray. Storm, with colors as tempestuous and moody as the title. Calm, with the softest butternuts and pinks. And finally, Against the Wind, with bright and deep blues and the whites of swirling clouds that seemed to race overhead, even in the stillness of the artwork.

  Her head was spinning. This was all too good to be true.

  And all because Kat was headstrong and had plunged into the Thames!

  And now Kat was also going to get to go on the expedition and follow David off into the desert…

  Along with Lady Margaret.

  “Jagger,” Robert Stewart said, standing by the man, “I am in serious envy. I can feel the sea, looking at these. I can feel the wind, the spray of the water.” He turned to William. “Mr. Adair, I am quite seriously in awe.”

  Her father appeared tongue-tied. Lady Daws was not. “Ah, then let’s pray that the awe being felt translates to serious business, shall we?”

  She linked arms with Lord Avery. Eliza felt that she must protect her father, because for whatever reason, the woman frankly scared her. What would Kat do in such a circumstance?

  “Oh, Lady Daws! No business just now!” Eliza was surprised at how firm she could make her voice. “Papa can talk with Lord Avery at another time. Naturally, his art is his living, but it is also a thing of beauty, just to be enjoyed, and I do know my father. He is so delighted to see you appreciate his work. Let’s savor this moment, shall we?”

  Lord Avery actually appeared impressed with her.

  Lady Daws, of course, looked furious.

  Eliza couldn’t help a smile of triumph.

  “Mr. Adair,” Allan said, “it’s a true pity you will not be accompanying our group to Egypt. What you could do with the pyramids at sunset!”

  “I’m sorry, there is no way for me to accompany you,” William said.

  “And why is that?” Lord Avery asked, frowning.

  William looked sheepish. “I’m afraid, Lord Avery, that when I’m not topside, I become wretchedly ill—seasick.”

  “Ah, but we’ll have the next best thing—Katherine!” David declared.

  “Indeed…but her art is a bit different, isn’t it?” Robert Stewart demanded. “She could be a great caricaturist—there’s a touch of the satirical in her work.”

  Margaret laughed. “Robert! We’ve seen but one piece.”

  “You mark my words. Her work could actually be dangerous,” Robert said teasingly, coming close to the beautiful Margaret with mock menace.

  “Dangerous! Artwork!” Margaret protested.

  “If she really sketches all that she sees,” David murmured. He looked from Robert to Allan and back again. His expression seemed odd, Eliza thought.

  Then Robert clapped him on the back. “Good heavens, Davie, I was but teasing. Mr. Adair, your daughter has your talent. And I believe you’ll be delighted with the growth in her work once we’ve returned.”

  “If Hunter, the tyrant, gives her time with Professor Atworthy,” Allan warned.

  “Hunter is not a tyrant!” Margaret protested.

  “She has a crush on the fellow,” Allan said, putting himself between Robert and Eliza and rolling his eyes.

  “Will you all please act like respectable adults?” Lord Avery demanded. “You’re frightening Mr. Adair. Sir Hunter is a man who is very serious about his work, but not at all a tyrant, I assure you, Mr. Adair. All will be well!”

  Allan winked at Eliza. “And what of you, Miss Elizabeth? Do you draw or paint, as well?”

  “Rather poorly, I’m afraid,” she said.

  “I can’t believe that,” Allan said. “Creativity runs in families!”

  “She designs,” William said proudly.

  Eliza heard a choking sound. The evil Lady Daws, she was convinced.

  “Clothing,” Eliza explained.

  “The dress she wears, and the one her sister was wearing,” William said.

  She looked at her father and smiled. Bless him. What a wonderful, dear man. Always showing them equal love, concern and pride.

  “How wonderful!” Margaret exclaimed. “Oh, Miss Adair! You must design something for me.”

  “Why—” Eliza was left almost speechless “—I would love to, Lady Margaret.” Oh, the day was going so very well! If it were not for the presence of Lady Daws�
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  And the strange way David Turnberry looked at his friends.

  “Now, there,” David said suddenly, pointing to the painting Storm. “That’s how I remember the water when I fell in! It was the oddest thing, almost as if the wind were there, riding the waves, right along with us. As if it had arms and legs, and was boxing us! I swear, it felt as if the wind picked me up and pushed me right off the ship. Oh, did you know, Lady Daws, that your stepson was with us that day?”

  Eliza was delighted to see the woman stiffen like steel. But she recovered quickly. “No, I did not. But I believe that Mr. Adair and Lord Avery would agree with me—none of you young men should have been out in that weather.”

  “Mr. Adair was out in it,” David pointed out politely.

  “He may become seasick in closed quarters, but my father is an excellent sailor,” Eliza said. She had been glad to see Isabella Daws discomfited, but something dark seemed to have fallen over her beautiful afternoon. “But I must say,” she added with a deep smile, having had no intent to hurt with her words, “that perhaps our dear Father above had something to do with David’s accident, for it has been the greatest pleasure to be able to meet you.”

  “Of course. The silver lining on the cloud,” Lord Avery said.

  “Soft blue…soft blue with deeper shades,” Lady Margaret said, turning to Eliza again. “You planned your sister’s attire to match her coloring, did you not? You must do the same for me. I’m right to think blue, do you not agree?”

  “Indeed, with your eyes…blue,” Eliza said, feeling a suffusion of warmth once again. Lady Margaret was lovely, kind, without being condescending.

  Inwardly, Eliza winced. This was the woman most likely to become the bride of the man her sister cherished!

  And yet…

  It was a lovely day. Incredibly so. And it was all thanks to Kat’s impetuosity and recklessness. She had to thank Kat!

  And pray, of course, that her day was just as lovely.

  “YOU’LL BE RIDING IN THE desert,” Hunter said pleasantly.

  “And I will do so,” she replied. She thought there was amusement in his eyes, and the glance he gave her was incredibly irritating.

  He had the most unusual eyes. She had thought that they were brown, in fact, so deep a shade of brown that they appeared black. But they weren’t brown at all, rather a deep shade of blue. And he had such a way of using them! He could look at one with such contempt it made the flesh burn. And yet sometimes his amusement seemed addressed at himself more than others. Now, as he looked at her, she thought that he was enjoying her discomfort far too much.

  “Indeed, I will ride with assurance,” she added sharply. Oh! At that moment, she longed to slap his face.

  “Nearly there,” he said.

  “Really? I should have enjoyed this for hours more!”

  “I could make such an arrangement, if you wish.”

  “You could, but you would not. You’ve business, I believe.”

  He shrugged, turning, leading the way. His horse broke into a trot. Her mount did the same. Her entire frame was jarred, and she tried very hard to sit without popping up and down like a jack-in-the-box.

  He intended to let her suffer, she realized.

  The streets had been fairly quiet in the morning, but as they neared the area of the museum, it seemed that more people were out and about, strolling, riding, hurrying toward various destinations. They passed cabs and omnibuses—still trotting along at the wretched gait.

  Kat managed to draw abreast of Hunter.

  “Is this why you have shown me such largesse?” she demanded. “You are entertained by torturing me?”

  He raised a brow. “Going to the museum is torture?”

  She looked ahead. “I don’t believe I will have any teeth left by the time we arrive.”

  He smiled slightly. “I should have taken you to the park for riding lessons today. But the truth is, I do have business. I have a meeting with the Earl of Carlyle. Contrary to what lies in your mind, my life and timetables do not exist around you, nor do I wake every morning since our meeting desperately conniving on how to make you suffer!”

  She felt a blush cover her cheeks, but then realized what he had said. “You are to meet the Earl of Carlyle? Now?”

  “Naturally, his involvement in antiquities is the major impetus now of all that happens. The man comes by his love of archeology naturally. He inherited it.”

  She stared at Hunter. “His parents were murdered. There was a huge to-do. It was in all the papers—I remember.”

  “Yes, but justice was served, and his energy and his resources are tantamount in all that we do.”

  “He married a commoner!”

  Hunter gave her a long look that she couldn’t quite read. Then he sighed. “Perhaps I have truly done you a disservice,” he murmured.

  She was startled to feel the sting of tears in her eyes. “You have done me no disservice. Whatever comes, you have brought my father’s work to the attention of those who can do him justice. I am in your debt.”

  He reined in sharply, turning back to her. “No. You are not in my debt. And you may dream whatever dreams you wish in that silly little head of yours, but a bargain has been made here.”

  “Meaning?” she asked, startled by the way he looked at her.

  And by the sudden realization that he was very much a man—imposing, charismatic and with a will of steel.

  “I am not…Sir Hunter, I will not…I mean…you mustn’t think that I’m willing to trade…anything…for this opportunity!” she warbled awkwardly.

  His gaze was chilling then. And those eyes of his! As dark as an abyss.

  And contemptuous.

  “I have taken you on as an assistant, Miss Adair,” he informed her. “That is what I am saying. And as my assistant, you will work. In your free time you may moon over a man you will never have—and wouldn’t want, should you acquire him! But if you’re not prepared to seriously work at your art and more mundane tasks, then we should part ways here and now. You have now made the acquaintance of David Turnberry and Lord Avery, and it was a pleasure and a privilege to meet your father, because I had seen his work. To be sadly crass, my dear, if I were seeking a certain companionship myself, I assure you, I’d not have to go to nearly as much trouble!”

  Her cheeks flamed, but she wouldn’t allow her eyes to fall from his.

  “Then we are agreed,” she said.

  “As you wish.”

  “As you wish. After all, you are the legendary Sir Hunter MacDonald!” And with that, she nudged her horse, planning on a smooth and dignified movement to take the lead.

  Unfortunately, the wretched horse decided to rear!

  “Whoa!” Hunter cried, catching the mare’s bridle. “You’re lucky you kept your seat!”

  She didn’t look at him. “You see, I will ride, and will ride well. I swear it. And I will be an excellent assistant, I promise. Now, may we proceed?”

  She clung desperately to her dignity. Hunter moved forward again.

  Moments later, she was off the mare and feeling as if her muscles and bones weren’t particularly well put together anymore. She forced herself to walk without the slightest limp.

  “We will have to get you a habit, riding trousers,” he murmured, his hand on her back as he ushered her ahead up the massive steps. “Riding astride is far more natural than sidesaddle.”

  He was striding through the ground floor exhibits as he spoke, heading for another flight of stairs. She kept up with his brisk pace, looking around as she did so. She had been to the museum before, naturally. Her father had taken Eliza and her several times—it had been determined years ago that the museum was not just for the elite, but for all the people of England. She had not particularly liked the Egyptian exhibits, not being fond of mummies. There was something eerie about peering at the sad visages of what had once been living men and women with their dreams of their preserved bodies being of use in the afterlife.

  She kept
this thought to herself as she hurried up the stairs, following him through a door labeled No Visitors. They came upon a room with a huge desk that was more like a table. No one sat at it.

  There was, however, a woman seated on the floor, poring over pages of manuscript that were spread out before her.

  She was in a simple skirt and embroidered blouse, the sleeves of which were rolled up. Her hair was slipping from its pins. She looked up, and her face was quite beautiful and radiant. “Hunter! You’re here. I’m delighted. You’ve got to take a look at the translations I’ve made and the mapping I’ve done. I’m almost positive that the tomb you were seeking is here, just in the cliffs at the edge of the temple. I’m certain, and so very excited. But, of course, I am going by texts and papers and translations, and you have actually been on so many digs…you’ll be a better judge of my determinations!” She had been speaking quickly, and she suddenly paused, aware that Hunter was not alone. She smiled sheepishly. “Hello.”

  “Camille, this is Kat—Katherine Adair. Kat, may I introduce Camille, Countess of Carlyle.”

  The woman rose, offering Kat a grimace and a smile. “Welcome,” she said. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me in a bit of a dither. We’re leaving so soon…and this is my dream. I’ve studied Egyptology most of my life and never been on an expedition.” She kept her smile steady for Kat, but her glance toward Hunter was certainly one with a question.

  Who is this woman and why is she here?

  “How do you do,” Kat murmured.

  “Kat is going to be my assistant,” Hunter said.

  “Oh, I see.” But did she? She seemed perplexed. “Are you an Egyptologist?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.”

  “Ah.”

  “Miss Adair is an excellent artist,” Hunter said.

  “How wonderful.”

  “Where is Sir John?”

  Camille laughed softly. “Taking time off! He said that I must have the run of the place and see that all goes well until we leave. He does not want to get in my way. Actually, I think that he is afraid he’d go quite insane with me here at this moment, running his smooth organization straight into the ground!”