Bound by Your Touch Read Online Free Page A

Lydia." To Lydia's unease, her gaze rested on the thunderous face of the prodigal son.
    Well, it seemed that the quickest way out of this was to bumble her way through it. She laid her hand atop Ana's, taking comfort from her sister's touch. "Numerous reasons lead me to suspect the authenticity of this item," she said slowly. Now she did give it a longer look, and to her relief, her intuition seemed well-founded.
    "Yes. It attempts to approximate a funerary stela of the Intermediate Period, but in such a tableau, one would expect to see jars of beer. Instead we have what look to be pots of ointment. And that is not . . ." Her gaze flicked to Sanburne's, then quickly away. The scar dividing one of his brows was flushed crimson with the force of his irritation. "That is not Nefertiti, and she is not snuggling. She is kneeling, which is all wrong. One only kneels to divinity. I suspect, if you examine the chisel marks on the back, you will also discover that this was not fashioned with an adze. In all ways, it simply doesn't.. . look right."
    Lord Sanburne snorted. "Perhaps someone with better vision should have a look, then."
    She tightened her grip on Antonia. "I see perfecdy well. That is the purpose of spectacles, after all."
    "By the deuces," someone behind her called. "She's right."
    The earl smiled. "My dear! Such a keen eye. We're fortunate that you've chosen to follow in your father's footsteps."
    That was not her intention, but now did not seem to be the time to announce it. "Thank you, sir/' She gathered herself to look once more at the earl's son. This time, she did not let his glare deter her. "I believe the field requires fresh perspectives. So often I find Egyptology to serve as an excuse, allowing men of a certain disposition to collect pretty trinkets in the name of science." Her gaze flicked down to the rings on the man's fingers, then back up.
    Whatever reaction she had expected—an angry flush, a protest, perhaps even a violent assault (she did not think him beyond it)—she was not prepared for him to smile at her. And such a smile! Slow at first, as if considering whether or not to widen; and then, suddenly, shifting into laughter. It transformed his face. He was, all at once, breathtaking.
    But then something went wrong. His laugh started out softly, but he did not seem able to stop it. As his mirth rose in volume, it assumed a lunatic quality. Lydia dimly sensed people scattering back to their seats, but she could not look away from the young lord's face. It was more than morbid curiosity that arrested her. She'd never seen someone lose his mind before, but Sanburne managed it beautifully. The sight tightened her throat, and only this prevented her impulse to—
    To do what? Great ghosts, what could she possibly think to say to such a creature? His beauty was meaningless, as random and unmerited as the pattern on butterflies' wings. She should know better than to let it affect her.
    For the earl's part, he seemed more irritated than concerned. "Snap out of it, boy! By God, what have you been smoking?"
    The earl's son choked to a stop. "Got me," he said to Lydia. Then, on another burble of laughter, he snapped his fingers toward the footman, who promptly produced a coat. As he flung it on, he addressed the earl. "Maybe you should hire her to vet your collection. After all, you do seem to share a certain, ah, rapport"
    Lydia stiffened. He'd made the word sound sordid.
    "My collection? I am not such a fool to invest my money in untested frauds!"
    "Perhaps you should hire her," Ana said to Sanburne.
    "Evidently you require greater powers of discernment than are at your disposal."
    "Indeed," Sanburne said, eyeing her.
    The speculative quality of his look alarmed Lydia. "I am sure the blame lies elsewhere. Whomever you deal with in purchasing these antiquities—"
    "Yes, yes" he said impatiendy. "So much for him. Father, a word with you."
    He started off, then paused and turned back when the earl did not