Looking amused by the enthusiastic welcome, Kenneth accepted the handshake without releasing her. “Sir Kenneth Fraser, at yer service, sir. I’m learning so much.”
“That so, eh?” Mr. Sinter winked at Barbara while simultaneously nudging Papa. “Many a young man has developed a matching passion to impress a lady, eh?”
She felt a blush climbing her cheeks and steadfastly refused to glance at Kenneth. Imagine, assuming a man would pretend an interest in antiquities just to impress her!
Still, she could feel whenheglanced down ather.And she was impressed.
“Perhaps,” was all he said, which caused Mr. Sinter to chuckle harder.
“Come now, Nicklaus,” Papa objected. “You’re embarrassing my daughter. If it’ll get you to stop, I’ll allow you to tell me allabout this thing. A stele? What’s so special about it? Looks like a heap of rock to me.”
It was comical, how quickly Mr. Sinter gasped in affront and pulled Papa to stand in front of the display. When he launched into an explanation as to the rarity of afalse doorstele, its proper description, Papa snuck a glance over his shoulder at Barbara, a small smile on his lips.
She couldn’t recall ever being so grateful to him before, and found her shoulders slumping in relief.
“Jolly auld men are just the worst, aye?”
Kenneth’s murmured question jerked her back to the present. When she looked up at him, he was watching her with what looked like concern. Barbara realized his question had been a purposeful distraction.
Unable to help herself, she smiled gratefully up at him. “Thank you for being so polite to him.”And for lying about why you are here, if that is what you did. “Mr. Sinter is not only a respected Egyptian art scholar, but a broker himself. He has connections in Egypt and across the continent that many of us do not have; I believe he is the one who arranged for Mr. Nutt to acquire that false door stele.” She nodded to the artifact. “And more than that…”
When she trailed off, uncertain how to finish that sentence, Kenneth leaned closer. “More than that?” he murmured, his lips less than a foot from hers, the position somehow intimate despite being in the midst of a crowd.
Barbara drew in a shuddering breath. “There are some men who believe a lady—a young, unmarried one at that—has no place in the world of antiquities collection. My father encouraged my interest young, and my grandfather left me a…well, a small fortune with which to pursue my passion, but when I fell in love with ancient Egypt I struggled to find a mentor.”
Understanding flashed in his warm gaze, the topaz ringing his irises seeming brighter. “And Mr. Sinter was that mentor?”
She nodded, heart beating faster at his proximity. “He—he is well-known, and respected, and when he accepted me into the community, the others did as well. I have often written to him for advice or asked his opinion about pieces before I acquired them.”
Nodding, Kenneth glanced over his shoulder to where Sinter had welcomed two more men, chatting jovially with them. “He strikes me as the sort of man who enjoys what he does and wants everyone else to as well.” That delicious brown gaze dropped to her again. “Like ye.”
Her breath caught. “I have never had someone who was interested in learning,” she admitted in a whisper.
His dimple flashed. “Ye do now.” Kenneth lifted his chin, finally releasing her from his spell as he nodded over her shoulder. “Those are canopy jars, aye?”
Feeling somewhat unsteady after the intensity of the connection between them, Barbara forced herself to take a shaky inhale as he took her arm once more and led her to a display along one wall, a little out of the way.
As they approached, she forced her attention—and her unfortunately out-of-control desire—back to the here and now. She was surrounded by magnificent antiquities, and it was silly to consider a mere man when so much brilliant history was on display.
On the other hand, when that man was Kenneth… “Yes,” she finally answered him. “Canopicjars, from the Twentieth Dynasty.”
“This is the one for the liver.” One long, tanned finger pointed them out. “That one is the lungs.”
“Verygood.” She found herself beaming at him as if he were a talented pupil. “You have been paying attention.”
“Aye, but look, there’s little handwritten signs.” Before Barbara could decide if she was disappointed or not, he grinned unrepentantly. “But Ididdo some reading on the subject. Have ye heard of Giovanni Belzoni?”
“Heard of him?” Her eyes grew wide. “My father gave me a copy of hisNarratives of the Pyramidsfor my birthday two years ago—he has a second edition releasing soon!”
He chuckled. “Then ye are much smarter than I. It took me most of the morning to get through the introduction and first chapter.”
“Itisa little dry,” she admitted, still staring, impressed. “You really bought a book on Egyptian antiquities?” So was Mr. Sinter correct? Was Kenneth trying to impress her?
He shrugged, leaning to study the jars. “I wanted to ken how they got the brain out without cracking the skull. Do ye ken they scrambled it with a hook through the nose cavity? Disgusting.”
Unable to help her little laugh, Barbara pressed her fingers to her lips and joined him. “Yes, well. An embalmer’s job was a prestigious and well-trained position…”
Her words trailed off as her lips tugged into a frown. Something was wrong.
