The Privileged and the Damned. Kimberly Lang

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      Ethan knew when he was being needled, but it didn’t counter the sudden unpleasant and completely irrational need to knock Brady off his horse. Brady’s laugh only exacerbated that need. As if Brady read his mind, he dug his heels into Spider and the stallion leapt forward. Tinker reared up on his back legs, ready to go, and Ethan let him give chase.

      It was good to be home.

      Lily watched the two men banter as they rode away, the brotherly affection and annoyance obvious in equal parts. When Tinker took off in a gallop, her breath caught in her throat. Granted, the horse was beautiful, impressive, but the man on his back was far more so. Ethan looked like he’d been born in the saddle, moving easily with the horse and looking like some kind of centaur as he closed the gap between him and his brother easily. She could hear shouts and whinnies, and then the horses and their riders disappeared into the woods.

      Over the past three months she’d figured out most of the Marshalls. They were a big family, with plenty of the private drama that came from the sheer number of them. There was also plenty of public drama—not unexpected, considering their wealth and power. Something always seemed to be swirling, whether it gave the tabloids their headlines or the eleven o’clock news its lead item or just had one or more Marshalls closeted in the former senator’s study. They often fought amongst themselves, but they closed ranks and presented a unified front when attacked from the outside.

      It was nice, yet odd at the same time. She really had no frame of reference to help make sense of it, either.

      And now, just when she thought she was starting to figure it out, Ethan appeared on the scene, totally unlike what the rumors had led her to expect, and completely changing the energy she felt on the estate.

      Energy radiated off him and made her tingle in unusual ways. And, while it still flustered her a little to have those green eyes on her, she had to secretly confess that the fluster wasn’t all that bad a feeling. It made her feel … “Alive” wasn’t the right word, but it was close.

      Rumor had it that he would be staying on the estate for a while. Something about his place being refurbished and unable to be lived in. She’d probably be seeing more of him—she pushed back the mental image of the more she’d almost seen this morning—and the fact she didn’t mind at all felt like a big step forward.

      Too bad he had that whole thing about honesty.

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE growl of his stomach pulled Ethan’s attention from the reports his assistant, Joyce, had emailed last week. The ones he’d pretended not to get. A glance out showed the estate was fully awake now, from the gardeners in Nana’s roses under his window to the stable, where the horses were being turned out and the farrier’s truck was pulling in.

      Since the family as a whole and all its various members seemed to have remained financially solvent during his absence, nothing required his immediate intervention. He stretched, then closed the laptop and set it on the antique writing desk next to the window. The sun was shining—a very nice change from London’s seemingly constant overcast skies—and there was no way he was going to waste the day closed up in his room.

      The hall of the family wing was quiet now, but that could—and probably would—

      change at any moment. Hill Chase was the hub for their family, and everyone floated through here eventually. He’d even had an email from Finn this morning, claiming he’d fly in next week on his birthday for a visit now that Ethan was home. He’d wait to tell his grandparents, though, until his younger brother was actually in Virginia airspace, as there was a very good chance Finn would change his mind at the last minute.

      He could smell coffee and fresh bacon as he came down the stairs, but once in the foyer he saw the light on in Granddad’s study, and veered in that direction instead of the kitchen. The mahogany doors were open, and he could hear the clatter of a keyboard. Odd, since Granddad was practically a Luddite to begin with and, unless his arthritis had miraculously gotten better, typing at that speed was not possible for him.

      Still, it was a bit of a shock to see Lily behind his grandfather’s enormous desk, a pencil gripped in her teeth as she looked between the papers in front of her and the screen. Today, her hair hung in two braids down her back, and the effect made her look so innocent he was hit by a twinge of discomfort at the starring role she’d had in one of his dreams last night.

      “Good morning,” she said, the words a little distorted by the pencil. “I’m almost finished with these …” Another clatter and a click of the mouse and the printer hummed to life.

      “Morning,” he answered, and Lily jumped, turning sharply and catching the pencil as she spit it out.

      “Ethan! I thought you were the Senator—I mean, your grandfather the Senator, not your father …”

      “Well, I’m neither of them.” He moved to the desk. “What are you doing?”

      “Reports.”

      “And you don’t have a computer in the stable office?”

      Lily started to roll her eyes but caught herself. He stifled a laugh. Seemed he’d hit a bone of contention without even trying.

      “Of course we do. It’s just that the Senator …” She paused and bit her lip, like she was searching for the proper phrase. “Well, he’s very particular in the way he likes certain things done.”

      “That’s a nice way to say it.”

      “It’s his stable. So I do it his way.” She smiled slightly. “It’s not that big of a hardship or anything.” Pulling the papers from the printer, she stapled them and put them in a folder in the center of the blotter. Then she started gathering up her things and pushed the chair back. “But I’m done now, if you need the computer …”

      “Nope. I just heard someone in here and came to see.”

      “Are you planning on taking Tinker out today? He’s due to get new shoes, but I can make sure he’s ready when you are.”

      “Maybe later. Don’t worry about it, though.”

      “Okay. But call down to the stable if you change your mind.” With her stack of file folders and ledger books and those braids, she looked like a student heading to class.

      “How old are you?”

      Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, what?”

      Nice move. “Never mind.” He pointed to her coffee cup. “Need a refill? I’m headed to the kitchen myself.”

      “Um, okay. Thanks.” She didn’t move, though, and he must have looked at her oddly. “I’ll have to follow you. I don’t know how to get to the kitchen from here.”

      “Still learning your way around?” he asked as she fell into step beside him into the foyer.

      “Kind of. I’ve only gone to the kitchen through the garden. Never from …” She trailed off and stopped, staring wide-eyed, and he looked around to see what the problem was. He didn’t see anything.

      “Lily?”

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