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E VERYONE WAS HAPPY , Kat discovered.

Everyone, as a matter of fact, couldn’t seem happier. And she couldn’t help but feel a bit disgruntled.

Her father swept her into his arms the minute she came through the door. He was shaking with excitement. “Katherine! Ah, dear child! In a thousand years, I’d not have had you risk your life, but you did. I swore there would be no rewards for such a deed, but what you’ve given me is far greater than any cache of pounds sterling! These men…respected men, collectors! They have said that I am a good artist.”

“Oh, they said much more than that!” Eliza cried, also rushing to the door to greet Kat. “They think Papa is one of the most talented artists they have ever seen. And, Kat! I am to design clothing for Lady Margaret!”

Kat had barely disentangled herself from her father’s loving embrace before she found herself nearly crushed by her sister.

“That’s…wonderful!” she gasped.

“I shall be busy as a bee all week. I must have a few garments ready for her before she sails. Oh, Kat! I will give the work my most fastidious attention, and perhaps other ladies will envy what she is wearing, and I will become known as a designer!”

“I’m so glad. I…had hoped you might manage a few pieces for me before I left,” she murmured.

Eliza waved a hand in the air. “There are dozens of pieces of clothing I have done for you—you’ll be all set, you’ll see.”

“Kat, how did you do at the museum?” her father asked. “Do you think that you will enjoy the work? Is it what you truly want? I swear, child, I’d not gain a thing from the pain of either of my daughters. I was still quite concerned today, but I have been assured by Lord Avery that you will be chaperoned as carefully as his own daughter.”

“The work…I can’t wait.”

“You will learn so much with Sir Hunter!” Eliza extolled.

“Oh, yes. I’m sure I will.”

“Are you tired?” Eliza asked her, frowning. “You don’t seem at all happy.”

“Oh, I am. Happy as a lark.” She forced a smile.

“Maggie has our dinner about set,” her father said. “I’ll see if she needs help.”

William Adair headed for their small kitchen. Eliza grabbed her sister again, her eyes wide with excitement. “Oh, Kat! I dared not say so in front of Papa, but…now I think I am in love!”

“With David? Goodness, his would-be harem is growing!”

Eliza frowned. “With David? Good heavens, no! It is Allan! Allan Beckensdale. Kat, he was ever so kind. We talked…oh, how we talked. Don’t worry—I didn’t desert Papa. I watched him. Isabella was there, ready to step in front of Papa and sell his work, but I managed to put money matters off! But then…Papa was so concerned about you, and he was deep in conversation with Lord Avery. Well, and Isabella—I couldn’t quite make her disappear. But I had this delightful time with Allan in the sitting room, waiting until the others were all set and ready for tea. He’s going to be a doctor, Kat. And…well, he’s not so landed and rich, you know. A trust from his grandfather has put him through school, but he must then make his own way. And he was so lovely, talking about the roles of men and women and how he longed for a family, but that he wanted a wife with a mind of her own and talents to match. And then we talked books and plays and…Kat! It was wonderful.”

“He’s leaving in a week, as well, Eliza,” Kat warned.

“But he will come back. And he has promised to write to me throughout the journey!”

“Well, that is lovely,” Kat said.

Eliza frowned again. “Kat, I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”

“I just realized…we’re all so happy, almost living a dream. And I’m afraid that you’ve sold your soul for all this largesse. And that—”

“And that what?” Kat asked a little sharply.

“I’m sorry to say, I do believe that Lady Margaret, Lord Avery and David all intend that one day…that your David is the one for Lady Margaret.”

“I don’t believe that she’s in love with him,” Kat said stubbornly.

“How can you say that?” Eliza studied her sadly. “You’ve spent no real time with them,” she reminded gently.

“I will be aboard a ship with them for a long journey,” Kat said. “And in the desert. There’s a long time before we return home.”

“Kat,” Eliza said worriedly, “you wouldn’t try…well, you wouldn’t let yourself… You really can’t trap a man of his standing,” she said.

Kat stiffened, staring at her sister. “I wouldn’t want to trap anyone,” she assured her. Furious—even though Lady Margaret had what she did not, a fortune and a title—she stepped around her sister, heading for the stairs.

“Kat!” Eliza called.

She paused.

“I don’t mean to hurt you. I’m amazingly grateful. But you’re my sister and I love you. The world is opening for all of us, and…I wouldn’t want to see you throw your life away.”

“I’ll not throw my life away.”

“It’s just that you can be so…reckless. And you are so… obsessed with David.”

“Our father has decided to trust me. You should, too.”

“Papa is unaware of your infatuation.”

“It has not made me a raving idiot. Eliza, I must wash for dinner.”

She escaped up the stairs, surprised to find that she was shaking and ready to cry. She loved her father, no, adored him. He’d been the most gentle parent. And her sister was her best friend in the world. But they were all so happy, and she was just tired. Egyptian symbols now seemed to swim before her eyes. And her muscles ached from the ridiculous way she’d had to sit on the horse.

The trotting horse.

And she was certain, of course, that Hunter MacDonald had been determined to trot the whole way in order to cause her pain!

She washed her face, cooled somewhat by the water.

But downstairs, even Maggie, who had stayed with them after her mother’s death, eschewing her own pay at times to see that the family ran well, was in the highest spirits that night, going on and on about the wonder of such men as Lord Avery.

Kat couldn’t wait to go to bed.

But when she did, she dreamed. The mummy hands from the exhibit case were free, hopping about in a black fog, and it seemed that the hands were whispering to each other.

She awoke with a start.

She realized that she had because of a knocking at the front door.

Frowning, she leapt up in her cotton nightgown and ran down the stairs, anxious to reach the door before anyone else was awakened. It was surely a delivery of dairy goods.

But it was not. It was Hunter, looking impatient.

“Come, come, girl, we’ve got work to do.”

“But…you said nine o’clock!”

He drew out his pocket watch. “It is ten minutes before the hour.”

She was tempted to slam the door in his face. She refrained. “Then I have ten minutes.”

“I had hoped you might be ready early.”

“Yes, well, since you are here, I shall hurry. What is the work? Are we going back to the museum?”

“My dear child, we are heading to the park. Riding lessons.” He produced a package for her. “You won’t have to waste your ten minutes redressing. Come along now, I do have other engagements this afternoon. But don’t worry. We’ll have three hours.”

“Three hours. On a horse. What fun. Don’t fear, I shall prepare in all haste!”

This was not a household that rose early, Hunter determined wryly as he waited. The housekeeper, Maggie—a lovely woman with an Irish brogue so thick he had to mentally translate as he listened—appeared as he waited, wanting to know if he desired coffee or tea. He thanked her and assured her that no, he was fine. William Adair came out and began thanking him, and Hunter, discomfited by so much gratitude, told him that he was the lucky one, for he’d be known as the man who discovered William Adair.

Eliza came flying down the stairs, eager to greet him, as well. Therefore, when Kat came down the stairs, clad in Francesca’s old riding habit, her entire small family was there, beaming.

He was disturbed, too. The riding attire became her, as all else did. A light beige skirt fell over the pants of the ensemble, so that it appeared the outfit consisted of a tailed jacket, shirt, vest and skirt. Beneath, however, were pants allowing a woman to ride astride while the sham of a shirt was slit to fall handsomely over the legs once a woman was seated. The accompanying hat sat nicely atop her head. The beige, and the tailored, businesslike cut of the habit sat marvelously on her lean but curved shape.

Then again, she had appeared quite the beauty in her flowing cotton nightgown, as well, hair tumbled about her face in waves of fire.

It was at that moment, standing there, surrounded by her loving family, that he realized, in his heart, just what was driving him.

He was fascinated by her. Stirred and aroused, both physically and mentally. She was young, she was naive. She was filled with courage, reckless bravado, and beneath the devil-may-care attitude, she loved those who surrounded her. She was willing to dream, to explore. She longed for the world. She longed for what she couldn’t have. Nothing was going to stop her.

And here he was, wanting her, with her father just steps away.

“Sir!” William Adair turned to him with such a frown that Hunter feared that he was aware of the very carnal desire arising in his heart. But the man was not. He was perturbed about the outfit! “That habit is of the finest quality. We cannot accept—”

“Mr. Adair, pray forgive me. But the habit is my sister’s, and she would be delighted to know that your daughter was wearing it.”

“It must not be a gift,” William said.

Hunter inclined his head. “Then it is only on loan.”

“Which is so kind,” Kat murmured, the tone of sarcasm with which she spoke so low that her father did not realize it. “Sir Hunter has seen how avidly I have taken to the sport of riding.”

“Not a sport on an expedition,” Hunter corrected her. “A necessity.”

William nodded gravely. “It fits you well, daughter. And suits you,” he noted.

“Thank you, Papa,” she murmured, walking to him, kissing his cheek.

“Such a clever design,” Eliza murmured.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to take from it and create something even better,” Kat said. “Well…I believe we’re off?” She looked at Hunter, irritation lingering just beneath her polite query.

“Indeed, we’re off,” Hunter agreed. “Mr. Adair, Miss Adair, good morning.”

“Be careful!” Eliza warned.

“I’d never let harm befall her,” Hunter assured them both.

“I feel that she is indeed safe in your hands, Sir Hunter,” William said gravely.

Hunter ground his teeth together as they departed. If the good man only knew! But, indeed, yes, she was safe with him.

“Come,” he told Kat, leading her to the mare Giselle, having led the animal through the streets as he rode Alexander. The pair did well together. She was not the first woman to have been taken riding on Giselle.

She walked to the horse, obviously ready to attempt to mount on her own. He set a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Always mount from the left,” he began.

“I know that much!”

“Put your hand here,” he directed. “Hold the reins—always have the reins. My horses are not hacks, and they might spook. Being dragged through the streets of London is not an adventure you’d want to experience.”

“I’m assuming that I do need to learn to mount the animal myself. I doubt that you will be at the constant beck and call of your secretary,” she said.

“Correct, but I shall help you right now.”

He didn’t allow the next protest to leave her lips; he was certain she argued at times just for the sake of argument. Catching her firmly about the waist, he set her on Giselle and looked up at her. “Sit easily, comfortably, in the saddle. Heels down at all times. That is of the utmost importance. Heels down at all times. If you are ever thrown, it is far better to leave the horse than be trapped beneath it.”

She nodded. He walked away and quickly mounted Alexander. “We’ll head for the park,” he told her.

“Indeed, Sir Hunter. It seems that my time is yours. Wherever you wish.”

The workday streets were busy as ever. Vendors hawked fruit and pastries. People bustled about, walking with purpose. Delivery vehicles were making their stops. Omnibuses and hacks made their respective way. Here and there, becoming more frequent and not quite so much objects of curiosity, were horseless carriages, huffing, puffing, making noise, and causing some fear among the draft and riding horses that plodded alongside them. Despite the bizarre horns and the fellow whose engine suddenly sputtered and spewed before them, Kat was able to keep control of the mare, and she and Hunter moved along briskly.

Inside the park at last, they were some distance from the mayhem of city life. The greatest distraction was a nanny here or there, strolling with a pram.

“You’re doing well. Are you any more comfortable astride?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she admitted. She hesitated. “Do we ride from the time we reach Egypt?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “There’s a train from Alexandria to Cairo. When we leave the hotel for the excavation site, we’ll ride.”

“And the site that we’ll go to is the same one where the Countess of Carlyle is working?”

He nodded again. “Yes. So that meets with your approval.”

“I like her very much,” Kat said.

“Ah, because she was a commoner who married an earl?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Because I like her.”

“She is quite amazing,” he said.

“Do you know her…very well?” Kat asked. It seemed a pleasant enough question, but there was also an insinuation to it. He could have done a great deal of explaining. He chose not to.

“Yes, I know her very well.”

“And her husband, of course.”

“Yes. We were in the queen’s army together, and during the last year, renewed our former acquaintance.”

“I’m trying to remember,” Kat said. “There was such a stir in the papers. Lord Carlyle’s parents were killed, and he had hidden out, and everyone thought that he was a beast, but he had been trying to learn the truth of what happened. And there was a gentleman, Sir something—I have forgotten his name—and he was nearly killed, but I believe that the earl saved the fellow’s life and caught the real culprit and…your name was mentioned in several of the stories!”

“That was the past, and this, my dear, is now. Brian has his parents’ legacy, and is anxious to go on this expedition. He’s disturbed that so much leaves the country illegally, and anxious that more of the treasures discovered in Egypt remain in Egypt.”

“If he wants them to remain in Egypt, why is he so eager to find them?” Kat demanded.

Hunter arched a brow. “It’s the knowledge, the discovery, the understanding of a people who could create such great monuments…it’s what they’ve left for today, what we can learn from them, that’s so important. And the desert is so vast! There are endless discoveries to be made. And as far as the treasures go, the point is this. There are those that can be legally obtained and are not one-of-a-kind pieces. There are fantastic monuments that belong here. At the Cairo museum. There is a small fortune to be made in the relics, even when all is legal and right. Museums across the world covet fine Egyptian mummies and artifacts—they draw people. People eat in the cafés, they purchase books and trinkets, all based on what they see. So while the entry to a museum may be free and the museum may get financial support from the government, as we do, great exhibits such as those provided by fresh discoveries are of the utmost importance to an institution’s growth. Some exhibits come on loan. And some pieces, as I said, are legally obtained. But…again, it’s the discovery that is so significant. Seeking information, solving puzzles, finding that you have followed ancient clues correctly—there lies real treasure.”

He ceased to speak, realizing that she was watching him with serious contemplation, the slightest smile curling her lips.

“This is amusing?” he asked.

Her smile deepened. “No, Sir Hunter. Actually, I am impressed with your passion. And I am truly sorry I do not know more about this subject that so enthralls you. But I promise, I will do my best to serve your needs.” She blushed, realizing the awkwardness of her words. “To be a good secretary. Taking notes…working.”

There had been many times in his life when he would have followed such a statement with teasing repartee, often to make an older, less attractive woman feel that she was comely and appealing. Banter and sexual innuendo had been his specialty. But at the moment, he had no such urge.

“I have the strangest feeling that you will do whatever you have set out to do,” he told her. “Let’s move on to a faster gait, shall we?”

He kicked Alexander’s flanks with his heels, that day refraining from spending too much time at a trot, teaching Kat to move into a smooth lope straight from a walk.

She was an excellent student.

When asked about her comfort, she did not tell him that she was in pain, or that she was doing fine. “I am learning, and I believe I shall do quite well.”

“Yes, I am sure you will.”

And so, at last, he led her through the streets, and they wended their way back to Kat’s home. But no matter what her words, he was certain that her limbs were sore. After he dismounted Alexander, he lifted her from her saddle.

She was ever so slightly shaky. Her hands fell on his shoulders, seeking support. He felt the pressure of her fingers as he set her down.

And there were seconds there when she clung to him, finding her feet. He smelled the subtle scent of her perfume, felt the warmth of her body and the slim strength of her midriff. He held her, waiting, until she balanced on her own, and let go her hold on his shoulders.

“Sore?” he asked, annoyed at the huskiness of his voice.

She looked up, still so close to him. “I will be fine,” she said firmly.

“I suggest a very warm bath.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes touched his without faltering. “I’ll give it consideration.”

He smiled, stepped back. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Will we go back to the museum?”

“Yes. Be ready by nine,” he said, striding back to Alexander.

“You’re a dictator, you know!” she called after him.

“Nine,” he added, annoyed now that his voice was curt, and that he was oddly eager to be away.

He didn’t look back, but led Alexander with the mare in tow. The scents of the city rose around him. Horses, food being sold by hawkers, refuse…

But underlying all that was the subtle and unique scent that was hers. And it seemed to follow him all the way home.

A GONY ! S HE WAS IN AGONY , Kat decided.

Eliza wasn’t home, as she had gone off to buy fabric, filled with excitement over the task of designing for Lady Margaret.

Her father, too, was gone. He was somewhere with Lady Daws, something to do with the sale of his art. According to Maggie, he, too, was in high spirits.

She must have looked a little lost because Maggie made clucking sounds, wound her arms around her and said, “Poor thing! All that riding. But we’ll get you into a hot tub and all will be well. Why, that Sir Hunter! The fellow isn’t at all what I expected, but a hard taskmaster. Handsome man, he is. Adventurer, explorer! Not at all indecent, such as I expected. But ’tis hard for you, darlin’, being the one to pay for all the good that’s come!”

“Maggie, I’m not paying for anything, really. I’m a bit sore, that’s all.”

“Well, we be fixing that. Ah, with all the good fortune, Lady Daws is still about, playing the grand dame! Well, your father be a fine and smart-enough fellow, but he does believe that she’s been behind him, that she’s the one got his work out where it’s been seen, and he’s still listening to the witch! And don’t you go telling him what I call the woman, though like as not he will be marrying her, and I’ll be the one to get the boot!”

“Maggie, never!” Kat assured her. “Why, my father might be a bit under the witch’s spell, but he knows that you cared for Mother, and that you’ve been a pillar of strength to all us, indeed staying on when your pay wasn’t coming! Papa will not forget that.”

“Ah, well, strange it may be, but true, when folks are in love, they do strange things,” Maggie said sagely. “They do…ah, well, they may do anything, risk all!”

Kat offered her a weak smile. Was she herself willing to do anything for love? So far, it seemed that she had indeed sold her soul!

And the worst of it was that it seemed the rest of her world so easily saw David, while she had always to chafe at the bit, so to speak, to be at the fellow’s side!

“Soak, moppet,” Maggie told her. “Soak in the hot water and you’ll feel better, I swear it!”

They did have fairly modern plumbing and a decent-enough bathtub, and so she was left upstairs. But when the water began to cool, Maggie added more that she had heated herself over the open flame in the girls’ room. When the doorbell rang, Maggie bustled off to get it.

She returned excitedly to the bathroom several minutes later. “Up, child! ’Tis David Turnberry downstairs, anxious to take you out for a spot of tea. He says he has photographs of his father’s expedition a decade ago, and he’d like you to see what you’re up against!”

Kat was so surprised and pleased she feared that she’d give away her absolute infatuation for the man.

“David Turnberry?” she managed to say casually. “And…is he with the Lady Margaret?”

Maggie shook her head, frowning and then tsking again. “He’s alone. Perhaps I’d best go back down and tell him that you’re not to be going off with any man alone, even for so much as a spot of afternoon tea!”

“No!”

She was out of the bath in the wink of an eye, grabbing a towel, already wondering what she would wear. “Um…he’s a most decent young man, Maggie. And tea! Surely, there’s no harm in my accompanying the fellow. He’s trying to be kind, of course.”

“I don’t know…I don’t know. Such a thing has never occurred before!” Maggie said worriedly. “Oh, I should have sent him packing!”

“Good heavens, Maggie! We are living in the eighteen-nineties!” Kat decided to wheedle. “Oh, please! If he came for Eliza in order that she might purchase some fabrics, you’d think nothing of it. And, Maggie, I sat upon that stupid animal, and on the floor in the museum, working, learning. Surely a brief spot of pleasure would not be an ill thing!”

“Perhaps your father will return while you’re dressing,” Maggie murmured.

Perhaps he would. Kat meant to be ready in seconds. “Please, Maggie, don’t let David leave. Please go and entertain him while I dress.”

Maggie, still uncertain, left her. Kat nearly flew from the bathroom and all but tore the wardrobe apart in her effort to quickly find the right clothing.

He’s come for me! He does care for me. He looked up at me with such adoration when I saved him. He just needed to be reminded of it…

Perfect. A slim skirt with the slightest bustle, a chemise and overblouse, decorous, almost prim, and a little jacket over the skirt. Perfectly presentable and respectable.

She fought with her thick red hair, seeking to pin the wild tresses with the same respectable appeal. But she thrust the last pin in with a certain defiance; she had to leave. Her father could return.

Worse. He could return with Lady Daws.

She raced down the stairs. And there he was, amusement and appreciation in his eyes, casual but elegant in his gray waistcoat and deerstalker cap. He was listening to Maggie’s chastisements, and his bright eyes rolled as they met Kat’s.

“Miss Adair,” David said, bowing slightly. “I have been warned that we must stay on main streets, and that I may have you out for no more than two hours.”

“Thank you, Maggie,” Kat said, frowning slightly. In David’s house, she was certain, the servants were servants. Maggie was much more than a servant.

“Tea, David, how lovely of you to think to come to offer me some refreshment. I’ve had a busy morning, learning to ride.”

“Ah, Sir Hunter!” David said, his eyes sparkling so that she remembered exactly why she had fallen so head over heels for the man, even from a distance. “Well, he can be a tough fellow, eh? Soldier and all, wounded, knighted, ever at the front! Don’t be dismayed—he will be as hard on every student who joins the expedition. Hands in the dirt, and delicately so, and there will be so much done per hour and a quota of work to be met by nightfall. We’ll all suffer from his rigid schedule, I’m afraid. But then, we’ll learn much, eh? Shall we go? Maggie, dear woman, thank you for allowing Miss Adair to go out with me for tea, and I will return her within the allotted time, I do so swear!”

Maggie arched a brow in warning, and Kat again offered her a frown, slipping to the door ahead of David.

Maggie was quickly forgotten.

“Are we to… Oh!” Kat said. No, they weren’t to ride, or to walk, or to take public transportation. An elegant carriage awaited them.

“To the Tarlington Club, please!” David told the driver, who was waiting to help them up the steps to the body of the vehicle, emblazoned with the illustrious coat of arms of David’s family.

She was seated across from him, quite appropriately. But as he joined her, his knees brushed with hers. And when he sat across from her, he took her hands in his.

“I’m delighted that you will be joining us in Egypt!” he said passionately.

“Thank you. I’m delighted to be going.”

She thought that, strangely, he shivered slightly. “Sad to say, you are something of my champion, my lady in shining armor!” he teased.

“Please, David,” she said, relishing the sound of his given name, spoken to him, on her lips. “I swim well, and I’m sorry to say, it was not such a heroic gesture. As my father says, it was merely an act of human decency.”

“Yes, but…” Sadly, she thought, he released her hands and sat back, looking out the window of the carriage. “But I was there with all those strapping fellows.” He stared at her again. “Alfred, Lord Daws was there, as well, you know.”

“Alfred, Lord Daws?” she repeated.

“Mmm. The stepson of Lady Daws,” he said, as if she didn’t know.

“I don’t believe that they are…close,” she said carefully.

David was not so careful. He let out a brief laugh. “To say the least! I was quite startled to realize that Lady Daws was a part of your household.”

“She is not a part of my household!” Kat said.

Again, David laughed, eyes warm as they touched hers. “Such passion, Kat! So lovely, and you are a fierce lady in shining armor, ready to do battle for all those weaker around you.”

It was her turn to look out the window. “My father is not weak,” she said a bit curtly.

“Dear, dear Katherine! I’ve offended you. I did not mean to do so. All men can be…weak. She’s an enchantress, I think.” He leaned forward again, and he was so close to her that she longed to reach out and touch his dear face! “Alfred—Lord Daws—is not so kind or careful when he speaks of the woman. And yet…he says that he knows why his father was so bewitched! She’s not much older than Alfred and I, you know. Around Sir Hunter’s age, actually. She was far too young for Alfred’s father, and that is, of course, the rub. Alfred is quite convinced that she married the old fellow for his money, and he can only be grateful that half the family riches came from his mother’s side, and therefore, all was in trust for him, and his father’s widow could not wrest his inheritance from him. Oh, dear, Maggie would be wretchedly distressed. I’m hardly being proper.”

“Maggie isn’t here,” Kat reminded him. And she was grateful! She never wanted the ride to end. He was confiding in her. Taking a risk, curious, perhaps, to see what she knew about Lady Daws and the situation, but whatever he was actually seeking, she didn’t care. Their knees touched, he held her hands in his earnestness, and his face was so near…

“It’s quite all right. Since we’re being woefully improper, I can only say that she is a friend of my father’s, and not, I repeat, not a part of my household.”

“But lovely to look at,” David said.

“I suppose.”

He laughed again, truly enjoying their time together, and perhaps even the curtness of her tongue.

“Not,” he said, and his words were husky, “not at all as you are lovely. She has an appeal, of course, which she has used, but…you are like the beauty of a wild fire! Truly, Kat. And I find that I am fascinated, as man is fascinated by fire, drawn ever closer to the flames, red, orange, blazing, ever tempting…”

So close…the two of them. She could feel him, feel the sweet rush of his breath, his lips, almost upon her own, and she knew that she wasn’t breathing. She was waiting, and it was truly and ridiculously improper….

The carriage came to a halt; the door swung open. They jerked apart.

“We have arrived,” the driver said.

“Indeed! Well, time for tea,” David announced.

Then he appeared flushed and a bit uneasy. As if he had been lured by a spell himself and been awakened. He jumped up, hitting his head on the roof of the carriage. He managed the few steps down, reaching back to assist Kat himself.

“The afternoon tea is quite lovely here,” he said. “I pray you’ll enjoy it.”

“You needn’t pray,” she said lightly. “I promise you, I shall.”

And on his arm, she entered the elegant tea room.

“T ELL ME MORE OF THE STORY about your little fire goddess!” Camille said, sitting back in her chair in the outer office.

He had been quite serious, discussing business. Camille, at the moment, was not interested in the subject that was usually dearest to her heart.

They were awaiting Brian’s arrival to go over a few of the last of the packing details. There was much that could be hired or purchased once they reached Cairo, but since Camille, though a splendid Egyptologist, had as yet to go on an actual dig, they were doing their best to assure her that everything was set just as it should be.

Hunter waved a hand in the air. “Camille, there is nothing else to tell. The story is simple. When others were fools, she was actually a bigger fool, risking her life for the lad. Her father is a very proud man—”

“An amazing artist,” Camille interjected.

“Yes, a truly amazing artist, and it’s quite incredible that his work hadn’t come to be properly appreciated.”

Camille arched a delicate brow. “Not so difficult to see, since Isabella Daws has apparently been using her ‘influence’ and ‘managing’ his work.”

“Oh, I’ve heard her explain how she has sold pieces—then seen them appear in the homes of men with greater incomes. She does have a certain charm, and she’s been able to talk her way out of every question put her way. She also pretends to be greatly enthused that he has now come to the attention of members of the aristocracy. I believe that she’s been selling his work for a great deal more than she’s told him.”

“That’s likely. You know, in the past year, she’s tried to sell several pieces of her husband’s Egyptian collection to the museum.”

“Oh? I thought that Alfred inherited the estate.”

“He did,” Camille said. “But apparently, a number of his personal effects were left in her hands. She is extravagant, and in need of an income constantly. Actually, she was in the museum not long ago. On a day when Alfred happened to be in, as well, filling out papers, since he is part of the expedition. I saw them run into each other by the Rosetta Stone.”

“And no blood was drawn?” Hunter asked.

Camille laughed softly. “No, they appeared to be quite civil. I remember everyone’s shock when Lord Daws married her. Rumors flew fast and furious. His first wife had been ill for quite some time, so I didn’t believe the whispers that suggested Isabella had murdered him. Of course, I didn’t really know them at the time. I knew that Lord Daws did some work with the museum, and contributed some artifacts. Apparently, however, he had known Isabella years and years before.” Camille sighed. “Well, she must be a happy woman now. Apparently, she has had a relationship with William Adair for some time.”

“She would never marry a poor artist, but a rich one makes possible marriage material?” Hunter asked dryly.

“Precisely,” Camille agreed. “So, I must say, however you managed it, I’m delighted that William’s daughter will be along. What a quick study she is! I gave her a book, and she learned to read so many hieroglyphs in such a short time I barely believed it.” Then Camille shook her head and a frown furled her brow. “Things are a bit chaotic right now, what with benefactors and students about, but I have seldom had so much trouble keeping track of all the maps and itineraries. They’re on a desk one minute and disappear the next. In fact, I’ve lost any number of papers lately.”

“Lost?”

She shrugged. “As I said, maps and itineraries, also calculations. Nothing truly valuable has disappeared. Don’t look so fierce. There haven’t been any break-ins, nothing so dire. Still, it’s good to know that someone as clever as Kat, as quick to capture images and learn their meanings, will be with us. How did you manage to secure her services as an assistant?”

Hunter hesitated, then said, “To be honest, she is so ridiculously enamored with David Turnberry and the world he lives in I thought that if she spent time with him and his peers, she would see how shallow and unworthy he and his world are. I knew she was entranced by the idea of our voyage to Cairo, so I arranged with Lord Avery, who believes she must somehow be rewarded, that she accompany us.”

“So you intend to work her to pieces.”

“She wishes to come. That is what we do.”

“Ah! But you wish to work her—or punish her?” Camille asked softly.

“Punish her! Camille, whatever for? She showed extraordinary courage.”

“Or, as you said, foolishness.”

He waved a hand in the air, frowning, concerned. “At this point, that particular question is moot. She did dive in and she did save the poor fool’s life. He is the dearly beloved son of Turnberry, and Avery and Turnberry are the best of friends. So. She sits on a pedestal. Sadly, without a rich inheritance, one cannot live upon a pedestal. Her father will accept no charity.”

“But as we both know, her father could become a wealthy man.”

“True enough.”

“Money can be acquired many ways—heavens, far too often, people are born with it. But talent, now, talent cannot be bought.”

“She is very talented herself,” Hunter said.

“And you are a benefactor of the arts!” Camille teased.

“What are you trying to say, dear Camille?” he inquired.

“I’ve never seen you act so strangely, that is all,” she said innocently.

“I am not behaving strangely.”

“But you are. And you must be careful.”

“Oh?”

“Good heavens, Hunter, why don’t you simply express your feelings and your intentions, and court the girl?”

“What?”

“No, she isn’t Lady-so-and-so, nor is she a rich widow…a gay divorcée…but, quite seriously, Hunter, as one who knows and loves you dearly, I do feel inclined to pry. And advise.”

“Camille, I don’t need advice.”

She laughed. “Personally, I believe she’s perfect for you.”

“ You were perfect for me. You do recall that I once asked you to marry me,” he reminded her.

“But you didn’t really love me, Hunter. It was simply the proper gesture. Now, with this girl…”

“Camille, I am just trying to look out for her.”

“You? That’s rich!”

“Yes, well, thank you.”

“Oh, Hunter! Believe me, I know that you are far more ethical than you will ever admit. After all, you were willing to marry me because you thought that I was in trouble, in over my head.”

“Camille, you are a gorgeous woman.”

“Ah, and you are a flatterer! As I said, you cared about me, but you were never in love with me,” she said.

“I’m not in love with the girl. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Fine. As you wish. So, where is the lovely girl today?” Camille asked.

“Home, I believe. We had a riding lesson. She is unfamiliar with horses, and she will have to be comfortable riding in the desert. Sadly, I’m afraid she must be in some pain.”

“In pain?” Brian Stirling, the Earl of Carlyle, asked, walking into the office. “Hardly. Your lass is at the Tarlington Club with David Turnberry. I noticed their table as I was leaving.” He grinned, moving behind his wife’s chair, looking at Hunter. “I believe she is causing a few whispers, since she is quite a glorious young woman. And hardly unnoticeable, with that brilliant hair. I do believe a few heads are turning. And with her father’s growing reputation, she’ll soon be the toast of the town. Ah, yes! Tongues will wag.”

Hunter stared at Brian, startled. She’s with David Turnberry, the object of her obsession. And yes, she’s beautiful, and she will indeed be drawing attention, he thought.

What are David’s intentions?

“So,” Brian continued, “shall we go over the lists?”

Hunter barely heard him as he strode for the door.

“Hunter!” Brian called. “Where are you going?”

“I believe he’s heading out for tea, dear,” Camille said.

Hunter barely heard either of them.

David Turnberry would never turn away from a marriage to Lady Margaret. But he is young.

And he is tempted.

And good God, the silly little mermaid will never be able to resist him.