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“But you are.”
“Icarus wanted to fly…and the sun melted his wings,” he reminded her. “It’s a hard crash back to earth,” he said.
“I do not intend to crash land,” she assured him.
He kept staring at her as he reached for the bell at the side of the table and rang it lightly. A moment later, Ethan was there. “This young woman needs a ride home, my friend.”
“Yes, Sir Hunter,” Ethan said, his expression impassive.
“Thank you very much,” Kat said to Ethan, then she turned back to Hunter. “Good night, Sir Hunter.” Her smile deepened, became soft, tender and whimsical. “And whatever may come, thank you. Truly. From the bottom of my heart.”
She turned and moved gracefully from the room, and he felt his breath catch.
Ethan stared at Hunter, waiting. Hunter gave a nod and Ethan disappeared after the girl.
Hunter’s every muscle seemed to twitch and burn.
Insane!
He rose, took a small cigar from the cedar-lined box on the mantel, and lit it.
Good Lord, he was Hunter MacDonald, not some besotted young twit.
He lit the cigar and paced the room. Let it go, he told himself. She would be safely back with her family. There was no need for her to see with her own eyes that what she craved would never be. And yet…
She appealed to him on such a strange level! In many ways, she seemed so naive, and in many other ways, she was as clever as a fox. When she meant no seduction or sensuality, her eyes spoke otherwise.
And, he reminded himself ruefully, she found him so…well, so nothing!
He grinned at the fire, shaking his head, and he knew what had so intrigued him. She was a lot like him. An adventurer, willing to take chances, centered on a quest. She was fresh and bright and so different from any other woman he knew.
And so…
He realized that he was now the one plotting.
He glanced at the clock, ticking away in the corner. The hour was growing late. Still, he strode through the house, anxious to saddle Alexander and ride out into the night.
No help for the hour.
Lord Avery would have to understand. And he would. He was a good fellow.
ETHAN HAD NO DIFFICULTY understanding that Kat was sneaking back into her own home. “I shall be watching for your safety, miss, and that is all.”
She smiled at him from the street. “Thank you. But I’m afraid your carriage will be quite evident here, in this street.”
He nodded somberly. “Then, miss, you should hurry.” He nodded his head toward the east. “It wasn’t so long ago that Jack the Ripper was at work, and his haunts are not so terribly far from here, and Lord knows, they never did catch that bloke, not that anyone will admit, so…please get on in, miss. I’ll not be leaving until you do so.”
“Thank you again, Ethan!” she said, and waving, hurried around to the side of the house and the trellis she could climb to her upstairs room. As she did so, she feared that she would emerge through her window into her room to find her father waiting in fury.
She crawled through the window into the darkened room and then nearly screamed as a form rose from the bed.
“Kat!”
“Eliza!”
Kat grasped her throat, then exhaled in a rush. Her heart was beating loudly enough to wake the dead, she thought. It slowed as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Eliza was sitting up now, staring at her, wide-eyed, excited and full of questions.
“Did you see him? Lord Avery?” she demanded.
Kat shook her head, sitting on the bed next to her sister. “I’m afraid not. The day’s excitement was far too much for him.” She sighed deeply and hopelessly. “At least I wasn’t discovered sneaking out of the house. And as for Lord Avery—and David—I would have met them both tomorrow.”
“Where have you been, then?”
“Oh. Sir Hunter had a meal laid out,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Sir Hunter! You had a private dinner with the fellow? A tête-a-tête?”
“No! I ate, and that is all. It was…I suppose…a lovely meal. His housekeeper enjoys cooking.”
Eliza climbed off the bed and danced elegantly around the room. “A private dinner—with Sir Hunter MacDonald!”
“There was nothing all that private about it!” Kat protested.
“But…well, the man is exceptionally fine looking!”
“He is?”
Eliza paused, staring at her. “Are you daft, Kat? I’ve seen the sketches of him—and the photographs that have been in the journals. Furthermore, he is…pure legend! On the queen’s business in India! Cruising down the Nile, joining up with his old military friends on some great excursion! Sailing in one race or another and taking the cup! Oh, Kat!”
“Eliza, stop! Oh, he’s been quite decent, it’s just that I had to listen to his housekeeper rave on and on about him all day, and…don’t you see? In my heart, my mind, David is the perfect man,” Kat said. She looked woefully at her sister. “And now I never will meet him properly. Unless I can think of…something.” Her expression changed. “Papa really has no idea that I slipped out of the house?”
“None,” Eliza said a little sharply.
“What’s wrong?”
Eliza wrinkled her nose. “Lady Daws was here again! I was very afraid for a few minutes that you would be caught, because the wretched woman was insisting that she see you and give you a piece of her mind. Be warned—according to her, you are the basest of creatures, causing such a commotion, bringing the police out and, of course, worrying poor Papa. Luckily, he was firm when he insisted that you be allowed to rest. Why, I could hear her! The woman was actually halfway up the stairs when our father stopped her!”
“A close call indeed,” Kat murmured. “But…she didn’t come up. And I thank you, Eliza, for keeping my secret.”
Eliza laughed, “Little sister, it’s as if it’s the two of us against the world, at times. With that wretched woman to make life ever more miserable.”
“Well,” Kat said, “she does bring him a certain happiness.”
This time, Eliza let out an incredibly unladylike snort. “She flatters him! Then she takes his work and he gets a few shillings, and—”
“And what?” Kat said.
“She’s after him,” Eliza said.
“After him? Papa is a poor artist.”
“And a very handsome man. An extremely talented one, as we both know…but so often, artists are long dead before their genius is realized. Kat, I don’t know what it is, but I don’t trust the woman. She did not come with us once we moored the boat today, but then she returned tonight—acting as if she were so concerned about you! I stayed up here, of course, eavesdropping and pretending that we had both gone straight to sleep. I think she really wants the two of us out of the way! I’m telling you, she is looking to marry him.”
“That truly makes no sense,” Kat said. “She is, after all, Lady Daws. And Papa is a poor artist. A great one, but a poor one.”
“Sometimes men of great artistic talent do become known during their lives and are rewarded for it,” Eliza said. “And I can guarantee you that Lady Daws sees that in Papa, and the fact that she is Lady Daws does not mean that she is not in need of support. I think she only pretends that she has money of her own.”
“I’ve thought sometimes that she must make much more selling Papa’s art than what she gives to him,” Kat said worriedly. “She tells him, of course, that she works for a pittance, a small commission….”
“My thought exactly. She has been robbing him blind.”
“She cannot be in such sorry shape. I mean, she is Lady Daws. And she was married to Lord Daws.”
“But Lord Daws had a son by his first wife. The son inherited, and I think he probably despises his stepmother. I would!”
“Do you know that to be true?” Kat asked.
“No, I’m just willing to wager that it’s true. The son, Byron Daws, goes to university with your young swain, you know.”
“Does he, now.”
“Yes. But I never see him out sailing,” Eliza mused.
“Maybe he hates the water.”
“Maybe. Or has other interests,” Eliza said, shrugging. “There’s just so much about that woman that’s…well, frightening. It didn’t matter at first. At first, it seemed she was only being kind. At first, we all saw her as someone admirable. But then…well, to me, her designs on Papa became all the more evident. And, do you know what I heard?”
“No, what?”
“That there was some scandal in her past. That Lord Daws himself was nearly cast out of the family when he married her. But his father died before he could be cut out of the will.”
“Where did you hear this?”
“In one of the fabric shops,” Eliza said.
“Gossip!” Kat protested.
“Ah, but where there is smoke…”
“My dear sister, I think we must face the fact that we don’t like her, she doesn’t like us, but that we must all pretend that everything is fine—for Papa. And whatever the past, she is not an artist herself, but knows art. She finds and sells the work of others,” Kat said. “She makes a living, and we are doing better now than we were when Papa had to go out and sell his work himself.”
“I do not believe she is satisfied with what she is making. She will rob unknown artists like Papa blind,” Eliza said.
“Well,” Kat said very practically, “I don’t care much for her, either. But we’re both grown. And soon enough, we’ll both be gone, either to find a means of support ourselves or to be married. So even if we don’t trust her and don’t like her, if she makes Papa happy…”
“She’s evil,” Eliza insisted.
“Evil!” Kat said with a laugh.
“Yes, evil.” Eliza was truly upset. “Papa will not recognize his own talent. He will not go out and insist that the galleries recognize his work…but she makes him believe that only she can turn him into a true artist. Which is utter nonsense. Furthermore she is ever on about how he can afford to send us to schools elsewhere…in France, in Germany. Places where the daughters of men such as himself can work to earn their tutors and their board. Kat, quite honestly, I believe that she wants to be rid of the both of us. Just tonight, she was talking about a school for young women in Switzerland where Papa could afford to send you because the students earn their keep by cleaning and scrubbing and so forth! She hates us both, I think, but you more, for I have always been the more dutiful one. Quieter, less likely to make a fuss. You must be careful, Kat, because she wants you gone.” Eliza sighed. “If only…”
“If only I were far more pleasant and pliable with her—or about to marry a man of her choosing?” Kat asked dryly. She sighed, as well, and shook her head. “It’s only a dream if and when…never mind. And never fear. I’m not afraid of Lady Daws. She will not get her hands on me! And as to the other…I’ll just keep dreaming,” Kat said. Eliza still stared at her with such concern that she fiercely hugged her sister. “I’m all right. But now, truly exhausted. Let’s go to sleep, shall we?”
“But, Kat, don’t you see?” Eliza said. “Tonight, your dream was shattered. Papa is furious. We don’t live in the same world as the David Turnberrys.”
Kat sniffed. “Lady Daws borders on it!”
“Not in a good way, I don’t believe,” Eliza murmured. “Ah, dear sister! You’re still dreaming away while I…” She laughed. “I would have lived a dream already, having had dinner with such an eminent fellow as Hunter MacDonald!”
“Eminent also in scandal!”
“In a way, but he does nothing underhand. He isn’t secretive, unless he is protecting the honor of a woman. While Lady Daws—”
“We all see and hear, and even believe, what we choose,” Kat said sadly. “Anyway, it is time to go to sleep. And I’m sure you’ll get to go with Papa to return this dress. I mean, you must go with Papa! I don’t think that Hunter would betray me, but…you need to be there to protect me regarding this little episode tonight, and that is all there is to it.”
Eliza laughed. “Well, indeed! I will meet the man of such intrigue and fascination!”
“And I will…stay home. And dream some more,” Kat said.
“Will you?” Eliza said. “If I know you, you will be thinking up another way to get close to your David!”
“Such a dream is hardly likely. We must go to sleep!”
But trying to sleep and actually falling asleep were two different things.
First, Kat allowed herself a few silent tears into her pillow. She’d come so close…
And then, she tossed over, staring at the ceiling.
Eliza was right. She knew her well. She could not just forget.
She wouldn’t be beaten. She simply wouldn’t be beaten. David was going to take a ship and go on a long, long journey, and then spend a season in the ancient sands of the Sahara. His dainty fiancée would not be around all the time. He wouldn’t be married until he returned.
Scores of things could happen before then!
When she slept at last, she had determined that, come what may, when David left England, she would not be far behind.
Chapter 4
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.
