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“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.”
