Reckless

by Shannon Drake

  “And we shall have a lovely party at his home tonight,” Margaret said. “I must find something to wear!” She kissed Hunter’s cheek and fled.

  Lord Avery remained by the fire.

  David spoke very softly. “I…don’t believe…it can’t be.”

  “Believe,” Hunter said simply. He leaned close to David’s ear and lowered his voice. “Touch her again, and I will break every bone in your body. I pray that I am understood.”

  With that, he walked around David and exited the house.

  THE DOOR TO KAT’S ROOM burst open.

  Isabella. She should have expected as much.

  “Come in, please, do,” Kat said.

  The woman surveyed her coolly. “I don’t believe it. Not for a minute. What is this new game you’re playing?”

  “There is no game,” Kat lied boldly. “I am to be married.”

  She walked around to the wardrobe where Kat was busy trying to ascertain just which pieces of her clothing might in any way be utile for a trip into the desert. “You can lie to others, Katherine Adair, but I know the truth about you.”

  “And what truth would that be?”

  “You covet another man.”

  Kat gave her attention to her clothing, picking up a cotton blouse here, a linen skirt there. “Well, Lady Daws, I am going to marry Sir Hunter MacDonald.”

  “I don’t believe that you—even you, with your clever wiles—could have snared such a man as Sir Hunter!”

  “Oh?” Kat turned to her, loathing her yet somehow afraid and unsure of the reason. “Why is that? Did you try for him yourself and fail?”

  She was certain that the woman barely restrained herself from slapping her. Isabella’s eyes were so cold, her mouth grim. Kat had never felt hatred so tangibly before.

  “Do you mind?” she said. “I need to be packed.”

  “I will tell him the truth, girl. Mark my words. I will tell him the truth.”

  Kat couldn’t help it; she started to laugh. “Tell him anything you please.”

  “You know, I warned you. You will pay for this.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You cannot live this kind of lie and not pay, my dear. And you shall.”

  With that, Lady Daws spun around and departed.

  Kat stared after her. “Well! You’re not invited to my party!” she said softly. But then she bit her lower lip. The woman would be there. She would be there on her father’s arm.

  Kat sat on the foot of her bed, suddenly very scared. She’d be leaving her father to this woman.

  The door burst open again. She started to jump up, ready to defend herself, as if there was a danger of being physically attacked.

  But it was Eliza. “What’s the matter?” she cried, seeing Kat’s fear.

  Kat shook her head, then ran to her sister and hugged her. “I can’t do it! I can’t go, Eliza, and leave father with her!”

  “You can go because I am here!” Eliza said firmly.

  “That is asking too much of you.”

  They sat together, holding each other. Eliza smoothed Kat’s hair. “One day, you will be there when I need you. Now, I am here because you need me. Because Papa needs me. And we will be fine.”

  “She knows!” Kat said, shivering.

  “She knows what?”

  “That…”

  “That it’s a sham?”

  Kat nodded.

  “She can’t really know anything, can she? I can promise you this, Hunter will never tell her the truth!”

  And that was true, Kat thought. The only person who could really betray her would not do so.

  She felt the ring on her finger. Eliza had told her that it was a yellow diamond, exceptionally beautiful, very rare with that depth of color.

  Once again, another reason to be grateful to Hunter. No matter how he chose to make her pay.

  The ring suddenly seemed to burn her finger. And suddenly, she felt as if she was burning all over.

  She disentangled herself from her sister and forced a smile. “Well…if you need me when I am away, you must get word to me!”

  Little good it would do; she would be so, so far away!

  “AN ENGAGEMENT PARTY! You!” It was Camille who spoke, but both she and Brian were staring at him incredulously. Then Camille smiled slowly. “It’s Miss Adair. It must be.”

  “It is.”

  “You’re daft, man!” Brian exploded. “Sorry, but you’ve known the girl but a week.”

  Hunter laughed. “The two of you are going to preach to me?” he queried.

  “Of course not,” Camille said.

  “Wouldn’t think of it, old chap,” Brian said. But they were both still staring at him. Brian cleared his throat. “Well, we should do a dinner or something, shouldn’t we, Camille? There’s not much time, but we could get something together at the castle for tomorrow night, perhaps.”

  “It’s not necessary—there is a party at my town house tonight,” Hunter said wearily.

  “Then we must do something aboard ship,” Camille said.

  “Ah, there, a lovely idea! Or a party along the Italian shore! There will be lovely, balmy nights,” Brian said.

  “Again, it’s not necessary.”

  “Well, we’ll argue about this later,” Brian said. “Camille, I have searched every file cabinet in the storage room and cannot find the map you’re missing. I’ll try the storage rooms.”

  “Which map?” Hunter asked.

  “I had it on the floor the other day. We were both working with it, do you remember? Reading some of the papyri we had, and calculating. In fact, I had it out when I first met your lovely fiancée.”

  “Have you gone through my desk?” Hunter asked.

  “I’d not have done such a thing.”

  “I’ll look,” Hunter said.

  “I’m heading down,” Brian said. “I think we’ve about finished…ah, and there’s a good thing! We can quite enjoy the evening without worry.” Brian winked at his wife. “I’m off.”

  As Brian headed downstairs, Camille followed Hunter into his office. “What kind of a game are you playing, Hunter?”

  He groaned, sitting. Then he looked at her. “Would you be asking this because you played a few games of your own?”

  “They were not of my making,” she reminded him.

  Head down, Hunter tapped a pencil on his desk, then looked up again at Camille, a woman he knew to be a true friend and confidante. “She believes that David Turnberry’s life is in danger.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I think he is spoiled and rich. He fell off a boat. He learned that it gained him concern. He claimed yesterday that he crashed into the door and hurt his head. Kat is convinced that he was attacked.”

  “Here, in the museum?” Camille asked, surprised.

  He nodded grimly, then shook his head. “Lord Avery is afraid of her—afraid that she will lure the entire collection of Margaret’s suitors from her side. Margaret, of course, is not so silly. I don’t know, Camille. It seemed the right thing to do.”

  “Ah.”

  “You’re not commenting.”

  “What would you have me say?”

  “Something! That it’s a wretched ruse, that we’ll only hurt others…I don’t know.”

  She smiled strangely. “Just take care that it’s not yourself who’s hurt. And, of course, if I didn’t love you dearly, my friend, I would not be concerned, I would merely consider it your just due.”

  “Thank you. Have I really been such a roué, then?”

  She laughed. “Just elusive.” Her expression grew serious. “Hunter, about these disappearances, do you think that there is something going on?”

  He took her hand gently. “Camille, we have all been looking forward to this expedition. It’s never wise to forget to look over one’s shoulder, but…nothing of great value has been taken. And we’re leaving. If there is some foul plan afoot, we’ll not be here. We’ll be far away.”

&nb
sp; She stood and started to walk away, then hesitated. “Hunter.”

  “Yes?”

  “What if whatever danger, real or imagined, follows us aboard the ship?” She sounded seriously worried, enough so that he felt a little chill of unease himself.

  He smiled. “We will hunt down the culprit, skin him alive, and that will be that!”

  “Ah, how assuring!” she said, and smiling, left him at last.

  KAT DIDN’T THINK THAT SHE had ever been so nervous in her life.

  They were to arrive early, she being the guest of honor, but from the time they stepped into the house, she could not sit still. And neither Emma nor Maggie would allow her to help in any way. Emma had brought in extra maids and servers for the day, and, of course, Ethan was there to see to whatever else might be needed.

  Hunter was not even there when they first arrived.

  “Kat, have some champagne,” Emma advised.

  “No!” she protested.

  Lady Daws, of course, was there. “A sudden aversion to champagne, Kat? I’ve heard that it can get one into trouble,” the woman said, eyes wide and innocent, even touched by concern. But, of course, William Adair was there, as well.

  “Emma, I believe I would like some champagne,” Kat said.

  She nearly broke the stem of the delicate goblet in which it was served. But the champagne did indeed ease her nerves.

  Emma asked Maggie to take over for a few minutes, then caught Kat’s arm, urging her to follow. They ran upstairs. They went to the blue room, where she had first stayed. There were flowers in vases, brushes and combs, little touches that made it more personal. “It is yours, Kat, whenever you choose to be here, whenever you may choose to escape from downstairs.”

  “Thank you, Emma,” she murmured. “But—”

  “Sir Hunter said that it should be so,” Emma stated firmly. “I must get back down. Take your time.”

  Kat lingered, but not long. Her father and sister were there, after all. She did not wish to desert them.

  Then Hunter arrived. He greeted her father now as William, and kissed her sister with all affection. He pecked the cheek of Lady Daws.

  The first of the guests to arrive were Lord and Lady Carlyle, announced by Ethan. Camille, in deep-mauve party attire, was beautiful, and yet, it was her smile that was most dazzling. Their arrival set Lady Daws on her best behavior, and she laughed with others and appeared quite human. Brian spoke with her father about the painting he had acquired, and Lady Daws held William’s arm as if he were her own creation.

  A few others from the Egyptology Department arrived, and then Lord Avery’s household, the gentleman himself, Margaret and David. Soon after, Davis’s cohorts were at the door—Robert Stewart, Allan Beckensdale and Alfred Daws.

  As Alfred entered the room, Isabella stiffened. Kat could not help but watch the two. Catching his stepmother’s eye at one point, Alfred acknowledged her, inclining his head. She returned the gesture, then gave her avid attention to William and Brian Stirling again.

  At one point, Kat saw Alfred and Hunter talking. Alfred was a tall young man, but Hunter still towered over him. Hunter’s words were low, but she had the feeling that they were tense. Alfred flushed and looked away, again catching the eye of his stepmother, who arched her chin and seemed quite pleased that he might be suffering in some way.

  “A toast?” Kat turned. David was by her side. He had a fresh glass of champagne for her.

  “Thank you, but I don’t believe I shall have any more champagne.”

  “But you must!” he protested, and it seemed that he had been imbibing freely already. “You’ve become engaged. Who would have imagined?” He thrust the flute into her hand.

  “The world is strange,” she said simply. He was hurt, she knew. And yet she felt angry. “He wishes to marry me,” she couldn’t help but say, even if it was a lie.

  His cheeks darkened. “His parents are long gone, and he has been off in the world on his own many years,” he said, defending himself.

  “Of course.” Despite her words to the contrary, she took a sip of the champagne. Lady Margaret was watching them, she realized.

  As was Isabella Daws.

  She felt that she and David were standing too close. She backed up, nearly stepping on someone’s feet—those of Alfred Daws, as it happened. She nearly lost her balance. “Whoa!” the young lord said, and rescued the champagne flute from her hand as David reached out to steady her. She quickly regained her balance and composure, thanking them both. “Your champagne,” Alfred said.

  “Thank you.” She stepped back cleanly then. It might all be a charade to Hunter, but he was deadly serious when it came to David’s keeping his distance from her.

  And Hunter, too, was watching.

  Margaret saved her, sailing in among them. “What fun! Honestly, Kat, this is just wonderful. I mean, of course, you’ll still help Hunter, and you must have your art lessons, but we’ll be more like a family now.”

  In other words, Kat wouldn’t be a slightly elevated servant.

  “Thank you, Margaret.”

  Margaret gave her a hug, and it seemed very warm and real. And once again, her champagne flute was nearly lost. Someone saved it, and it was back in her hands.

  There was a delicate touch at the nape of her neck, sending frissons of heat shooting along her spine. Hunter was at her side. “Shall we eat, my dear?”

  “Indeed, yes, I’m sure everyone is quite starving,” she murmured. They were being watched, of course. He made a point of offering her a smile, catching the underside of her chin with his knuckle and raising her face to his. He smoothed back a strand of her hair with his free hand and placed a tender kiss on her lips.

  She thought she heard a choking sound.

  David.

  The kiss seemed to linger a bit too long. He raised his face just slightly, his eyes touching hers. Only she could really see his eyes, both the challenge and amusement that burned within them.

  “Dinner,” she said, the word rather choked out.

  “Oh, yes. Dinner,” he said huskily. “I had quite forgotten.”

  Lord Avery cleared his throat. Hunter stepped away.

  They were soon arranged around the table. Luckily, she was at one end, Hunter at the other. Alfred was to her side, while Lady Daws was seated down by Hunter.

  Conversation began with current politics, then a champagne toast to the queen. It veered to the coming expedition, then a champagne toast to their voyage. Next, a toast was made to Eliza’s fashion-design prowess, and then to Margaret’s beauty. William’s work was toasted. Then Brian Stirling rose to toast the newly engaged couple. “To Katherine Adair, far than a simple mortal beauty, to catch not just the heart but the hand of a man such as Hunter, and to Hunter himself, a lucky man in many ways, it’s been said, but never so much as now! To long life, a successful marriage, a dozen children, and the best I could ever wish any man, the happiness I have found myself!”

  “Santé!” William said, raising his glass, and the toast went round.

  Once again, Kat realized, her head was swimming. Champagne, she decided, was an evil brew, sent to torment the senses rather than elate them. She was tired, not seeing clearly, and the night seemed endless. She had to keep smiling and chatting. She was quite afraid that she was going to pass out. At last, she was seriously so reeling that she escaped to the kitchen.

  “Why, you’re flushed!” Maggie said.

  “Too warm,” Emma agreed.

  “We’ll get you upstairs immediately.”

  They did so, bringing her up the servants’ stairway. It had been impossible for Eliza not to have noted her disappearance, and she soon followed and was instantly concerned. Kat realized then that she was quite ill. Once they had gotten her dress over her shoulders, she tore into the bathroom, finding the commode in just the nick of time.

  She was aware of the excited conversation as both Maggie and Emma rushed to help her. She closed the bathroom door, begging privacy. Agony ripp
ed through her. She was violently sick once again, and then again. And when she was done, she nearly fainted. She wore a corset, and it was far too tight, and she couldn’t find the strings.

  “Kat!” It was Eliza at the door now. “You must let me in!”

  She could barely reach the doorknob. Eliza rushed in, got a cloth, cooled her face and helped her rise.

  “The stays!” Kat managed.

  Eliza eased them. There was a robe on the back of the door, and she slipped it around her sister’s shoulders, her eyes wide with concern. “Is it the excitement? The champagne? You’re never sick!”

  “Never,” Kat agreed.

  She was shaking, chilled, trembling again. But vomiting had been good. The agonizing pain was gone. She felt as weak as a kitten. “Come…let’s get you into bed,” Eliza said.

  “Here?”

  “Well, you are engaged to him now. This is your room now. And Emma is certainly proper!”

  Kat let her sister get the door open and help her over to the bed. Maggie and Eliza were there, drawing down the sheets, drawing them up once again. Maggie worked the pins from her hair. “We’ll not have them sticking into your pate, adding to your misery!” she vowed.

  “I’m better…much, much better,” Kat assured them. She tried to sit up but hadn’t the strength.

  “Tea!” Emma said. “I must make some tea.”

  And so she rushed away to do so. Kat closed her eyes. She opened them again. Her father was there, and his eyes were dark with worry. “I’m okay, Papa!” she assured him, and tried to smile. “Too many toasts!”

  “Ah, darlin’!” he said, gently holding her.

  Kat heard someone whispering, “She’ll have to stay.”

  Then Emma was back with the tea. Eliza supported her, and she drank it, and the world seemed so much better. She closed her eyes. Drifted…

  She dreamed of a rocking sensation, as if she were already at sea. Great waves swept by. They became sand. She was looking out over the desert. As she looked, a great black wing seemed to cover the sun, and the darkness boded a terrible evil. She fought it, trying to awaken….

  She was awake. The room was very dim, and there was someone here with her. A figure, dark, and somehow menacing, staring at her.