Only Scandal Will Do by Jenna Jaxon Page A

would do the deed myself, I assure you. But I do not know the man’s identity.” Her heart skipped a beat. “Do you?”
    She held her breath, fearful the nightmare was not over. But Pritchett shook his head and her frantic heartbeat slowed. “I must, therefore, trust to your discretion and silence. I would not have a scandal mar my brother’s reputation while he is so unable to defend it. And as there can be no remedy, I will endeavor to put this whole sorry episode behind me.”
    He acquiesced with a reluctant nod. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my lady? Your face will remain swollen for some days and the bruising will become quite colorful, but there seems no lasting damage. You have no headache?”
    She shook her head.
    “Then I suggest cold cloths for your comfort.” He met her eyes, now a co-conspirator.
    She nodded, grateful for his cooperation, and stood to see him out.
    At last alone in her room, she climbed between the warmed sheets, exhausted. Margery had certainly done her best to see to her comfort after this ordeal, and Kat snuggled down, ready to abandon herself to sleep. Despite her weariness, however, sleep would not come. Instead she drifted back to the last bed she’d lain on. Well, maybe if she deliberately thought about the rogue she could purge him from her thoughts.
    Astonished at how vividly she could bring him to mind, she closed her eyes and moaned. Unexpected details sprang up with startling clarity. Longish light brown hair, pulled back at his nape. Though she had only seen his face from the nose down, she remembered a long jaw with a slightly jutting chin. Stubborn for sure. His eyes had looked black with lust, but could have been dark brown. She would know them anywhere. And of course she would recognize her handiwork on his cheek.
    She doubted they would ever meet again. And what could she do if they did? Call him out? If she was going to withhold the truth from Jack, then she could never know the satisfaction of seeing him run through by her own hand. His reflexes and cunning had impressed her as traits of an excellent swordsman. He would be a worthy opponent.
    Kat’s shoulders twitched in anticipation. What wouldn’t she give to stand before him with steel in her hand. A glorious image. Skill with a rapier was her proudest accomplishment; she would love to flaunt it before him. Oh, if only she had carried a sword this evening! The next time she attended a masquerade she would go as an Amazon, armed to the teeth.
    The next time... Would there be a next time for her in London society? That depended on whether she could keep the night’s activities from society’s rumor-mongering ears. One breath of this scandal and she and her brother would be cut dead by the ton . They might as well sail back to Virginia. She shrugged, and turned over.
    Could she perhaps talk her brother into allowing her to return to Virginia? She had friends in Virginia, enjoyed the more relaxed society there. And there was Amiable.
    Kat sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. Captain Dawson. An officer in her father’s regiment, Amiable Dawson had frankly admired her for several years. They’d become friends, though she’d made it known she wanted nothing more than friendship from him and, true to his name, he’d accepted her decree with good grace. But he’d made it clear to her, upon her father’s death, that should she ever need him, he was hers to command. Would Amiable accept her despite the current threat of scandal? She owed it to him to explain what had happened before he committed to her. Perhaps she should write and accept his proposal.
    She shook her head. This sudden urge to marry was unsettling. The reason that surfaced, unbidden, sent icy fingers down her spine. If she was already married she could not be forced to marry the man in the lion’s mask.
    That was an absurd fear. Katarina lay down again. She did not know who he was, though he certainly knew her name. But he would