Scandal's Child by Sherrill Bodine

attention to Mariah; she had already decided Mr. Vanderworth was perfection itself. Gwynneth now had only to make the young man accept that Mariah was his ideal.
    Looking down at the lines she had just written Gwynneth groaned aloud. What balderdash! She and Sybilla had been friends for years despite the fact they were both known to be shockingly outspoken. So, she might as well remain true to form and be herself.
    Taking a fresh sheet of paper, Gwynneth stuck the quill pen in the ink pot one last time.
    “
Dearest Sybilla. Come at once. Your step-grandson, Jules, must wed my godchild, Kathryn Thistlewait, immediately! Fondest regards, Gwynneth.”
    There! She sat back with a satisfied sigh.
That
should do the trick. With any luck, her godchildren would arrive at Château Saville only a few days before Gwynneth would spring her surprise.
    The fiacre Saville had hired was surprisingly well sprung. Even the interior was most comfortable with an abundance of pillows and blankets. Kat had settled Miss Hamilton cozily on one seat while she and Caroline shared the other. The men rode beside them. Kat could see them both out her window: Saville astride his black stallion, brought over on the boat with them from England, and Jacko on a rich chestnut gelding, hired at the last moment.
    Saville turned, smiling, to say something to Jacko and Kat was struck by the strength of his profile. From this angle he did not appear detached, as if he were hiding a secret, he appeared to be a man of character and nobility, a man she could depend on and trust. Perhaps it was only the patch that made him appear so unapproachable.
    “I know it is vulgarly curious, my lady, but just how did the Comte de Saville lose his sight?” Caroline asked, straining to see out the window.
    Caroline was slowly recovering from her fright with what, Kat realized, must be her natural exuberance, so she overlooked the impertinent question. As Kat was Saville’s fiancée it was only natural the young girl would think her privy to such information.
    “We have never discussed it.” Kat smiled. “It is not a matter of any importance to me.”
    “Oh, how romantic!” Caroline sighed. “To be so in love his scars are as nothing to you! No doubt he earned them bravely in war against that horrid Napoleon creature.”
    “Yes, I agree with Caroline,” Miss Hamilton yawned delicately. “You must inquire, Kathryn, if he was on the Peninsula or at Waterloo. I recall hearing that his brother, the Marquis of Aubrey, distinguished himself.” Hannah closed her eyes and then just as quickly lifted her lids. “Or, of course, he could have been maimed in a duel.”
    A loud gasp escaped Caroline’s pursed pink lips. “Never say so, Miss Hamilton! Oh, surely not a duel.”
    “I think not,” Kat answered, shaking her head and glancing back out the window.
    The men were laughing, the sunlight accenting their ebony and golden heads. They appeared to get on very well. Jules was a good example for Jacko, Kat thought. She wouldn’t mind at all if her twin emulated the older man.
    But all this talk of duels terrified her. She would never have allowed Jacko to call Saville out for her sake—although she was now certain he would not have accepted the challenge—for even if her twin was the youngest member of the Four Horseman’s Club, he was the worst swordsman and the poorest shot in the
ton
.
    A tremor of fear pulsed through her. She would never forget the look on Sir Edmund’s scarlet face when they had thwarted him. What chance would Jacko have in a duel against him?
    Giving herself a mental shake, Kat refused to dwell on such horrid thoughts. This was her first journey to the Continent and she fully intended to enjoy the French countryside.
    The ravages of war were hidden under the lush greenery, and the villages had been whitewashed. But occasionally she could spy a man with a wooden peg or an empty sleeve. The war could never be forgotten with these reminders. Kat