Page 17 of Only Scandal Will Do

“I suppose if she was fleeing the house she could have picked the cloak up anywhere along the corridor. Or chanced upon it in an empty room. I am still unsure if the garment is mine, but there is the possibility. I can’t remember where I took it off.” He raised an eyebrow and affected a salacious smile. “I had other things on my mind, as you may imagine. In any case, I wish you godspeed with your endeavor.” An earnest sentiment, though his actual wishes were somewhat less so. “I will address myself to Madame Vestry at the earliest opportunity, for I certainly want no more scandal attached to my family.”

“Thank you, my lord. I will return the garment once I have questioned the lady.”

Duncan waved as though the cloak were a trifle. “As I said, I’m not convinced it is mine, but I hope it will aid you in your search. If that is all, my butler will show you out.”

From his bedroom window he watched Matthews ride away from Grosvenor Square, but he saw nothing except a beautiful young woman with fiery hair, one possessed of more courage than many men he had known. And he now knew he must meet her without delay.

Surely Lady Katarina and the earl would attend the Braeton’s ball tonight. Lord and Lady Braeton were prominent horse enthusiasts, so if Aunt Phoebe was correct and the earl had a keen eye for horseflesh, he would certainly want to put in an appearance at Linden House.

Calling for Anson, Duncan began to divest himself of the ice blue outfit. He recalled

Matthew’s words about Amorina’s confession and the knot in the pit of his stomach tightened. His underestimation of his ex-mistress’s desire for revenge might be the worst miscalculation of his life.

Speculation that Amorina had masterminded Lady Katarina’s kidnapping in order to complete his ruin reared its ugly head again. Why else would the girl have been brought to the House of Pleasure? And Amorina would have known the sight of the lady’s luscious copper hair would ensure he bid on that tableau.

Anson entered and hurried to remove the diamond studs and satin jacket.

At least the trap had missed its mark and scandal, even if brewing, had not yet reached the ears of the ton. A reprieve, though a slight one.

Duncan forced himself to focus on the hoped-for meeting with Lady Katarina. Instead of lifting his spirits as thought of her so often did, the images coalesced into one of her brother or now Matthews calling him out.

“Anson.”

“My lord?”

“The fencing outfit, please. I believe a trip to Angelo’s is warranted this afternoon.”

“Very good, my lord.” Anson gathered the scattered pieces of Duncan’s wardrobe and headed into the dressing room.

Now clad only in linen drawers and stockings, he groaned at the memory of Lady Katarina’s seductive hips pressing against him during their struggle. His arousal returned, insistent as always when the vision of that luscious body rose before him. He cursed. If he didn’t find the woman soon, scandal would be the least of his worries.

CHAPTER 7

“Kat, you cannot possibly cram another thing into that trunk.” Jack was being difficult, but dear.

Katarina considered where her best riding boots might squeeze into the already tightly packed space. When moments of sanity surfaced, she couldn’t see how she could leave him. They had always put up a united front to their father, their governesses, the world. Being alone would be one of the biggest challenges she had ever faced, but she was determined. She’d hounded Jack almost night and day since he’d recovered from the blow to his temple, wheedling him to agree to her return to Virginia to seek out Captain Dawson.

She’d related her tale of adventure on that horrible night almost three weeks ago--the contrived version of course--and managed to instill in Jack the intense fear and shame of those hours. So when she’d begged him to allow her to sail back to the colonies, he’d reluctantly agreed. He even booked the passage for her on the Constanza, the family-owned flyut they had traveled on to England two months before.

Now she would be accompanying a Major Jameson, on his way to take a post with her father’s old regiment. He, his wife and daughter would make sure she arrived safely and provide chaperonage until she either married Captain Dawson or contacted their mother’s relatives living in Pennsylvania.

“Well, if I can’t get all these clothes in here I am going to be sorely pressed to cover myself next winter, Jack, unless you intend on sending me substantial sums of money every quarter. That would not hurt my feelings, you know.” She laughed at his outraged expression. “I suspect I will be able to get along rather well on a captain’s pay until the children come along.

Then, Uncle Jack, you will be made to pay through the nose.” God, she would miss him.

“Kat, are you sure this is what you want?” His beloved face wore that woebegone expression again, the earnest blue eyes, so often merry, now a bleak gray.

She steeled her heart. “For the four hundredth time, yes! I don’t belong here in this London jungle. My home is the much safer wilderness of Virginia. You cannot know how terrified I am every time I leave the house. What if those blackguards are still out there? What if they try to take me back to that...that place? I barely escaped once. Do you think I’d be so lucky again?” This was not an idle argument; the kidnappers could indeed be looking for her.

Jack shook his head. “I do understand. But I got bashed on the head and I’m not running back home.”

She stopped trying to shove the brown leather boots into the overstuffed trunk and took his hands. “I know you’re not. Though maybe you should! You could have been killed, Jack. And then where would I be? But no, I for once have a luxury you cannot afford. It is your duty to stay here, take your place in society, marry, and produce an heir. So you must face your responsibilities.” She crinkled her eyes at him. “While I manage to avoid mine.”

“What will I do without you, Kat?”

To her horror, tears threatened at his forlorn tone. She must do this.

“You will be fine without me. You’ve already made friends, you have the house and servants. You will quite possibly one day receive a letter from me and say, ‘Katarina, Katarina, where have I heard that name before?’” More soberly, she embraced her brother’s tall frame, all teasing aside. “Besides, it is not forever. I will come back now and again. For your wedding certainly, whenever that is. And who knows but that Captain Dawson may be stationed here in