Scandal's Child

by Sherrill Bodine

  “What is Jacko up to?” -Mariah quizzed, but Gwynneth could only shake her head. Before she could stop them, Gladstone and Percy had also disappeared up the stairs and into the ballroom. Short of racing after them, Gwynneth was powerless.

  “I don’t know,” she said softly. “But before the evening is finished, I shall find out!”

  It was fortunate that the duchess shared their carriage for Kat’s nerves were so fragile she doubted she could have survived the journey alone with Jules.

  All day she had been concentrating on just how she would entice her husband. She’d decided on her lowest cut gown and her hair worn the way he had admired. But by the time he handed her up into the carriage she was nearly faint from anticipation. He, on the other hand, appeared his usual dashing self, dressed in severe black and an unruffled white shirt.

  Fortunately they were early enough to beat the crush of carriages. The house looked particularly festive; Willy had fashioned two floral pieces to stand on either side of the doorway. After greeting Mariah and Christian, Kat was surprised when Willy stepped out of the receiving line to pull her behind a large potted plant.

  “Willy, what are you doing?” Kat questioned, concerned by the lines of worry crisscrossing her godmother’s usually jovial countenance.

  “Keep an eye on your twin, Kathryn. Something is up. I’m sure of it,” she declared.

  The tiniest black cloud appeared on Kat’s rosy horizon, but she immediately banished it. “Don’t worry, Willy. I’ll have a talk with him,” she promised, kissing her godmother’s cheek.

  Seemingly satisfied, Willy rejoined Mariah and Christian while Kat slipped into the ballroom to find Jules waiting for her.

  “Here you are, my dear. I thought you might like a glass of champagne. Is something wrong?” he asked perceptively, in much the same voice he had used on the journey to France. The voice of strength and trust, the voice she had come to love.

  “No,” she smiled and glanced away to search the rapidly filling room. “Have you seen Jacko?”

  “Yes, there he is, dancing with Caroline,” Jules replied, touching her arm.

  And there Jacko was, her twin, doing a remarkably fluid waltz with Caroline. When they glided by he threw Kat a kiss.

  Laughing, Kat looked up into Jules’s face and found him so close she leaned back a little upon his shoulder. “He seems fine, doesn’t he?”

  “He is enjoying himself. Come, let us do likewise.”

  He handed her glass to a passing waiter and drew her onto the floor. They fit together so perfectly. Daringly she rested her cheek against his chest, closing her eyes. She was rewarded by his arm tightening about her waist, drawing her closer than any patroness of Almack’s would approve—even for a married couple.

  “Kathryn, I’m keeping you all to myself tonight,” he whispered into her ear, his breath fanning her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

  He was a man of his word, cavalierly sending away all who sought to partner her. They danced only together. Each time they waltzed he held her a bit tighter and even went so far, once, to press a kiss at the side of her neck.

  Breathlessly, she pulled back to stare at him, her eyes wide with assumed shock. “Jules, what will people think?”

  His arms tightened and she felt his thigh press against hers through the thin fabric of her gown.

  “They will think the Comte de Saville is enchanted with his wife,” Jules murmured, his gaze roaming boldly from the low-cut bodice of her gown to meet her eyes.

  Weak with longing, Kat nearly missed the fanfare of Willy’s formal announcement and toast to Mariah’s engagement to Mr. Christian Vanderworth. Most of the guests surged forward to offer their congratulations, but Jules took this opportunity to lead her out onto a tiny balcony.

  The sultry night air of the city closed around them. Jules leaned back against the brick wall. He reached out, drawing her to him, his arms tightening around her so she almost lay against him. She felt the accelerated beat of his heart beneath her breasts.

  Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness so very faintly she could see his face, and it was transformed by his wonderful smile.

  “Kathryn, will you become my wife?”

  She stared at him. “I am already your wife.”

  Jules’s hands rose to her shoulders, then slowly, deliberately, slid down to tease the inside of her elbows, near her breasts.

  “Yes, we have gone through the forms, said the right words … We are legally married, but I want more,” he said softly. Slowly, his hand glided up to play in the locks of hair falling about her throat. “I want more, Kathryn.”

  Kat was hypnotized by the pleasure his touch bore.

  Carefully, he pressed a light kiss upon her lips, and Kat realized she was trembling. He whispered her name softly and, in surrender, she twined her fingers through his hair, leading him to her parted lips. Their mouths clung in a long, caressing kiss, their bodies arching together, demanding to be even closer.

  She breathed her answer onto his lips. “Yes, please, Jules. I want to be your wife.”

  Even in this dimness she saw a flame lighten his gaze. “Then come, my darling. Tonight is ours.”

  He led her out of the shadows and as they stepped into the ballroom they nearly collided with Jacko and Caroline. They were hidden by a drapery in the window embrasure and, to Kat’s bemused shock, were clasped in a passionate embrace.

  At that moment, Jacko released Caroline and, stepping back, he met Kat’s eyes. What she saw on his face froze her blood. Without a word, he stalked away into the lights and music of the ball.

  “Oh, Kathryn, he kissed me,” Caroline whispered, touching her lips with trembling fingers. “He’s never done it before. It was quite wonderful.”

  Kat’s eyes lifted from Caroline’s enraptured countenance to Jules’s face.

  “Kathryn, what is it?” he asked quickly.

  Shaking her head, Kat was already moving across the floor. “See Caroline back into the ballroom. I must find Jacko!”

  Where was he? Frantic, Kat scanned the gathering for his blond head, but couldn’t find him anywhere. She caught Sir Percy skulking around in the hallway.

  “Have you seen Jacko?” she demanded.

  “No … no,” he stammered, stepping back a pace. “Looking for your husband, myself.”

  “He’s just returning to the ballroom,” she replied quickly, dismissing him to survey the foyer. No Jacko. Perhaps he had gone to his old room to be alone. There was definitely something wrong; something in his eyes that Kat didn’t understand, but that struck her cold with fear. Willy had been right. She shouldn’t have so readily discounted her godmother’s fears, but she had been preoccupied with Jules.

  Even in the upper hallway the merrymaking from the ball could be plainly heard. Only as she neared Jacko’s room did it fade. She pushed open the door and gasped.

  With his back to her, a man stood before the oak cabinet beside the bed. It was not her twin.

  “Glady, what are you doing?” she asked, shutting the door loudly.

  Startled, he dropped the box he held upon the bed. Quickly, he grabbed it up and thrust it behind his back, but not before Kat had seen what it was.

  “Kat, what are you doing here?” he croaked, his eyes shifting about, looking for escape.

  “Why have you got Jacko’s dueling pistols? And where is he?” she demanded, rushing to wrest the box away. “What is going on? You will not leave this room without telling me.”

  “Jacko left the ball so you couldn’t find him,” Glady admitted, stepping toward her. “You must give me the pistols! With his own pistols Jacko might have a chance,” he continued, half under his breath.

  “A chance?” she breathed, before sinking onto the bed, understanding making her knees give way. “A duel. Wit
h whom?”

  “Trigge!” Glady growled, whisking the box from her suddenly numb fingers. “I’ve said too much. Stay out of it, Kat. And pray,” he stated firmly, making his escape out the door.

  Like a child, Kat had thought all her problems gone forever in the face of her love for Jules. Now all that happiness vanished to be replaced with deadly terror for Jacko.

  “Whatever am I going to do?” She moaned, burying her face in her hands.

  “We are going to stop him, of course.”

  Kat sprang to her feet, blinking several times, hardly believing her eyes. Hannah rose from a chair that had been turned to face the fireplace.

  “Hannah, you heard!” Kat cried.

  “Yes, dear. I came here to read and escape the noise from below. I must have dozed off and didn’t awaken until you slammed the door. Then I thought it best to remain silent.”

  Kat was trembling, and Hannah drew her close in a gentle, lavender-scented embrace.

  “What are we going to do, Hannah?” Kat whispered.

  Pushing Kat to arm’s length, Hannah’s usually placid face was stern. “Your brother cannot be allowed to duel. You are the only person he ever listens to, so you must talk to him. If you cannot reason with him you must give him this.” Reaching in her deep skirt pocket, she pulled out a small bottle of laudanum.

  “Drug him?” Kat gasped.

  Hannah shrugged. “Just enough so he misses the duel at dawn. Isn’t that when these wretched men do their foolishness?”

  “Yes, but if he does not appear, Trigge will just seek him out again,” Kat said slowly, “or try to besmirch his honor.” A seed of a terrifying idea was taking root in her appalled brain. She would never endanger Jules by asking for his help in this, for she would take care of Trigge herself.

  “It buys us time,” Hannah stated matter-of-factly. “Trigge is such a beast someone else might very likely do away with him before he can harm Jacko!”

  Jules glanced into Lady Tutwilliger’s library and, finding it empty, motioned an agitated Sir Percy in, closing the door firmly behind them. The young man had been uncharacteristically persistent to have a word alone.

  “Well, what is it, Allendale?” Jules drawled, leaning one shoulder against the mantelpiece. He really had more important things on his mind this evening.

  “It is Jacko,” he stated baldly.

  “Jacko!” Jules straightened, remembering Kat’s frightened face as she went after him. “What has he gotten himself into?”

  “Know you think me a sad rattle, Saville. True, of course.” Sir Percy shrugged, shaking his head. “Can’t seem to stop myself. Been like this since I was in short pants. But Jacko’s my friend in spite of everything. He would kill me if he knew I was talking to you. But no where else to turn.”

  “Allendale, tell me! At once!” Jules commanded.

  Nodding, Sir Percy took a deep breath. “We were playing faro at Mrs. Cathage’s when Trigge came in. He had been drinking. Maybe even brawling somewhere. He’s sporting a black eye and a cut lip. Soon as he sets sight on Jacko he joins our table and starts taunting him. Glady and I tried to drag Jacko away, but you know how stubborn he can be.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. Just tell me what occurred,” Jules urged, impatient with Sir Percy’s lengthy explanation.

  “Said he wouldn’t be driven off by that bounder!”

  “Percy, cut line!”

  “The short of it, Saville, is Trigge insulted Kat and Miss Strange. Jacko landed him a facer, and Trigge called him out.”

  “When and where is it to be?” Jules asked with cold rage.

  “Dawn tomorrow. The road to Scotland. The clearing just beyond the Four Feathers Inn.”

  “I know the place.” Jules caught Sir Percy’s heart-sick look and gave him a brief smile. “You have done the right thing. Never fear, Trigge will not be meeting Jacko in the morning. I shall take care of him myself.”

  “Understand, Saville.” Sir Percy nodded, relief flooding his face. “Knew Jacko could count on you. Now I’m going to my rooms and lock myself in for fear my damn tongue will get everyone even deeper in the suds.”

  “Excellent idea, Allendale.” Jules stood in the foyer as Sir Percy beat a hasty retreat out the door. He himself must not be far behind. Knowing Trigge, it might take all night to unearth the bounder. But he would find him and rid the world once and for all of that canaille. Trigge would not survive until dawn to harm Jacko.

  Jules turned to see Kat walking slowly down the stairs. She looked pale and frightened. At all costs he must keep this from her.

  “My dear, you look tired. Come, sit in the library.” He led her back into the quiet room, again closing the door.

  Helping her to a chair, he knelt before her, taking her cool hands between his palms.

  “Kathryn, I must leave you for a few hours,” he said gently and saw her dull eyes widen.

  “Why?” she whispered, and Jules could see she was having difficulty focusing her thoughts.

  “I have something I must do. I will arrange for someone to see you and Grandmère home.”

  “If you don’t mind, Jules, I shall stay here tonight. I … I was just upstairs with Hannah. She … she isn’t well. I would like to stay with her tonight.”

  Icy dread stilled his hands where they slowly massaged her fingers. “This has nothing to do with your looking for Jacko, does it?” he asked carefully.

  “I couldn’t find him.” She smiled weakly. “If you see him would you tell him I demand he attend me.”

  “Of course. Now I must be off.” Rising, he pulled her slowly to her feet. He stroked her cheek with his fingertip. “I regret this interruption to our evening. Tonight, after all, shall not be ours.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her cool lips before starting toward the door.

  “Jules!”

  At her anguished cry he swung around and she ran into his embrace, throwing her arms around his neck. Startled, Jules pulled her tightly to him as she lifted her face.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered.

  Responding to her urgency, Jules crushed her to him. Her lips parted, drawing him into her sweetness.

  At last, Jules slowly pulled away, gazing with longing into Kat’s upturned face, her aquamarine eyes wide with commitment.

  “Tomorrow shall be ours, Jules, I promise.”

  Chapter 13

  Hannah helped Kat sneak out the servant’s entrance. A hired hack was waiting, also by Hannah’s design, and Kat slipped into it, keeping the hood of her old black cloak tightly about her face. If she hadn’t been so worried about her brother she might have wondered at Hannah’s adept handling of the whole situation.

  Within a very few minutes she was let down at Jacko’s rooms. She peered around, very much as if she were a housebreaker, but this was a mission of the utmost delicacy. Her knocks echoed into the quiet corridor, again making her look nervously about. It would not do to raise an alarm or to wake Jacko’s valet. She knocked again, a bit louder. Surely her twin was here, preparing himself for the duel. Dawn was not that far away she realized, fresh fear making her pound harder.

  “By gad, what—” Jacko bellowed and opened the door. She pushed her way in. “Kat! What the devil are you doing here?”

  He had been lying down, she could see that by his mussed curls and flushed face, but he was fully dressed in buckskins and a lawn shirt, open at the throat.

  Dropping her cloak over a chair, she turned to him. “I have come to talk some sense into you!” Their identical eyes met in complete understanding and, slowly, he shut the door, leaning against it.

  “Which one of my friends was fool enough to tell you?” he questioned, cold anger paling his cheeks.

  “No one told me, Jacko. I discovered Glady sneaking out of your room with the dueling pistols. I doubt they are f
or target practice!” She folded her arms across her breasts as she glared at him. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Because I am not allowing you to duel!”

  Pushing away from the door, he strolled past her to a small table that held a decanter and glasses. He poured a glass of brandy and quickly tipped it down his throat. “I am past the age where you can lead me around on a string, Kat,” he said wearily, turning to her. “I know you think you must be my keeper. Cover up my pranks and mind my scraped knees when I fall. But you cannot fix this, twin. This is something for me alone.”

  The very fact that he was deadly quiet and uncharacteristically serious coiled fingers of terror through every fiber of her body. No mere words of hers would dissuade him this time. She had no choice but to carry out the daring plan that had been flourishing in her mind since talking with Hannah. She refused to think about the possible consequences. It was the only way she could save her brother.

  “I see,” she said quietly, dropping down upon the edge of his mussed bed. “Can I at least stay until Glady comes for you?”

  “I’m meeting him there.” A ghost of a smile twitched his firm mouth. “Refuse to listen to him ring a peal over me all the way to the Scotland Road.”

  “Scotland! The duel is in Scotland?” she exclaimed, momentarily at a loss. She didn’t even know how to get to Scotland.

  “Of course it isn’t in Scotland!” he scoffed in a more normal tone. “The Four Feathers is only … no, you don’t, Kat! I’m not telling you where the duel will take place!”

  “Of course you’re not,” she soothed, patting the bed beside her. “Come sit beside me so I can weep all over your chest.”

  With a rueful smile he sat down, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “Glad you’re not having hysterics or being a watering pot,” he murmured, resting his cheek on her hair. “Couldn’t take that on top of everything else.”