“He did marry her, then? Your last letter only spoke of the possibility.”
“To breathe a possibility at Madame Roussault is to create a probability. I shudder at the match. It was done with all the ceremony she could command.”
“How do you think this new Mrs. Leonard will take to a sister-in-law?”
“Is she young and attractive?”
“Yes.”
Keirsmyth waved his hand dismissively. “Then she will not.”
“My thought as well.” Deveraux exchanged glances with Fitzhugh.
“This is a fine bramble bath,” Fitzhugh suggested, scratching his chin.
Deveraux nodded. “A thorny problem in more ways than you could imagine.”
“Excuse me, gentlemen. Am I to understand you have some feeling for this Miss Leonard?”
Deveraux frowned. “Feeling is not the half of it. Miss Leonard is the person who rescued Chrissy last December.”
“Ah, Chrissy, your niece, of course. She is now placing you under an obligation?”
“Egad, no!” Fitzhugh interjected. “If only she would, it would ease matters greatly for Dev. She’s an independent little thing. And proud as a potentate. She and Dev seem to be forever coming to verbal fisticuffs. The thing is, you see, the kidnappers have vowed revenge against her.”
“And against the family.”
Both of Keirsmyth’s thin eyebrows rose. “What singularly dedicated brigands!”
Deveraux shook his head, frowning. “I’m glad you’re here, Jack. I don’t mind admitting I’m concerned that they’ll try to do something tonight.”
“Revenge is sweet with an audience,” Keirsmyth drawled understandingly.
“I could use another pair of eyes and ears tonight. Turcott, too. As he has a passel of schoolroom-age sisters, he might watch after Chrissy without seeming to.”
Keirsmyth nodded. “Don’t worry, Deveraux. We’ll see that nothing disturbs the festivities. After all,” he said with a wicked smile directed at Fitzhugh, “seeing this young banty rooster get caught is an event of a lifetime!”
The stairway was awash with golden candlelight. From the entrance hall came a murmur of voices from the arrival of the guests invited to the dinner preceding the ball. Eighteen were expected for dinner. Those arriving included the Earl and Countess of Penmere, Mr. Fitzhugh’s parents; Viscount Hollingshead, his elder brother; Sir and Lady James Fennimore, Lady Christiana’s grandparents; Lord and Lady Peter Goudge, Bt., Lady Lucille’s godparents; and, to fill out the numbers at the table, two great friends of Fitzhugh’s and Deveraux’s: the Marquess of Keirsmyth—formerly Colonel Jack “Blackguard” Randall—and Captain Harry Turcott, still in His Majesty’s service, lately returned to England to recuperate from a wound in his left shoulder earned in the war with America. To Lady Lucille’s satisfaction, they were all downstairs before Leona and she descended.
Leona tried to withdraw her arm and encourage Lady Lucille to precede her down the stairs, but her friend wouldn’t do it. Together they walked down the stairs, their gowns glistening in the candlelight, the sapphires at Lady Lucille’s neck catching the light from the candles and reflecting like so many points of light. Their coloring and their gowns were each a perfect foil for the other.
“By God, Deveraux, I knew you had one beauty hidden away in this miserable excuse for a castle, but two?”
The gentleman’s dry, raspy voice rang out through the marble entrance hall capturing everyone’s attention. They all turned to look up. It made for a perfect entrance. Lady Lucille edged her chin up higher, preening.
Leona tried to pick out the owner of the strange voice. It was not difficult. It belonged to a tall, sinewy, blond gentleman standing next to Deveraux. He looked to be about forty, lines of dissipation and hard living evident on his harsh weatheredfeatures. Next to him stood a younger, fresh-faced young man in scarlet regimentals.
The women came down the stairs slowly, savoring the notice. At the bottom, they dropped each other’s arms and came forward for introductions.
“Deveraux says you’re Charlie Leonard’s sister,” the tall, lean gentleman, the Marquess of Keirsmyth, told Leona as he bowed over her hand.
“Yes, do you know him?”
“Yes, I can see immediately you don’t take after him at all.”
She raised an eyebrow in inquiry.
He smiled, a sudden slanting, rakish smile, his dark eyes closing sleepily. The man was flirting with her! “You’re much too beautiful.”
