Free The Heart of a Scoundrel by Christi Caldwell

up on tiptoe, craned her head about in search of the items belonging to the famed Captain James Cook. From the corner of her eye, she noted Honoria grip Gillian by the forearm, staying their forward movement. Her friends paused and looked back at her.
    “I do not see them,” Phoebe murmured, turning a small circle in search of the display of those revered items returned by Captain Cook’s crew.
    “I imagine that is the fun in coming here, taking the time to look.” Honoria paused. “At everything.”
    Gillian nodded her agreement. “Oh, yes. I daresay the ferocious snakes eating their prey is a good deal more interesting than some horridly boring explorer who—”
    Phoebe frowned, personally offended for the gentleman. “He is not boring,” she said defensively of the legendary explorer and cartographer. She rather resented Gillian filing the Captain Cooks of the world into the company with the Lord Thistlewaits of the world.
    “Come along,” Honoria urged, motioning Phoebe forward. “We shall search. Gillian shall enjoy her horrific snakes, I shall have the opportunity to appreciate the gold recovered from…from…wherever it was recovered from and you may have your Captain Cook.”
    Phoebe returned to her friend’s side and, maid in tow, fell into step beside the young women, all the while scanning the enormous space for those famed artifacts. The story of Captain Cook had intrigued her from the time she’d been a small girl. Her mother had regaled her with those fascinating stories of the man and his great, fascinating explorations. And though she’d known even then the foolishness in imagining a life of exploration and adventure, excitement had stirred in her heart at the dream of it. Now she realized her mother had likely dreamed of escape for herself. Selfishly she’d not given thought to the woman her mother had been prior to the marriage arranged by Phoebe’s grandfather. Had she dreamed of escape even then? Or had she willingly ceded over all control unquestioningly as the dutiful daughter and that longing for escape came later? Regret stuck in her chest. She would never cede control over to a gentleman strictly because her father commanded it. No, she would steal her happiness when and where she could…and be the sole controller of her fate.
    She turned to her maid. “Marissa, you may take yourself about the museum. No harm shall come to us,” she said when the young woman hesitated. But then she dropped a curtsy and hurried off.
    “That was well done of you,” Honoria complimented. “I only wish my aunt’s maids were as obliging.”
    Phoebe’s father’s servants were loyal to the Viscountess Waters and her children. That devotion was likely a product of pity for the horrid father and spouse the Barrett family suffered through. It was well known that the servants in Honoria’s aunt’s employ were loyal to her harridan of an aunt and not much more.
    From the corner of her eye, a ray of sunshine slashed through the windows at the top of the room and splashed light off a glass display case. She squinted down the length of the room at the wide map contained within that particular exhibit.
    Gillian followed her gaze and groaned. “There is hardly anything interesting in a map. Bah, what does it show?” She jabbed her finger toward the stuffed snake. “As opposed to that magnificent—”
    “Go.” Phoebe laughed. “I’ll not be long.” Still they hesitated. “I assure you the nefarious sort is hardly lurking about the Egyptian Hall.” Not allowing the young ladies an opportunity to issue protest, she started down the hall for Captain Cook’s collection.
    *
    At last the young ladies were alone. Invariably, those scheming ladies with scandalous families ultimately found a way to disentangle themselves from their chaperones.
    From where he stood behind the massive Doric column, Edmund tucked away the note from the lady’s father, a bald, greedy Judas, and lazily studied Miss