Reckless. Shannon Drake

      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?”