Bedazzled. Bertrice Small

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      “Aye, madame, I am,” he said boyishly.

      “Then go along with my son, my lord,” Jasmine instructed him.

      The trio hurried across the hall again, this time headed for India, who stood with another young girl chattering. She smiled at her brother’s approach, holding out her hand to him.

      “Henry.” She quickly looked at her brother’s two companions, and then directly at her brother.

      “Mama says I may introduce these gentlemen to you, India.”

      “But I recognize Lord Summers,” India said, smiling prettily at him. “You hunt with Henry at Cadby, don’t you?”

      “I did not know you had seen me, mistress, as we have never been formally introduced until now,” Lord Summers said, bowing to India.

      “How could I fail to notice so handsome a gentleman,” India said coquettishly, tossing her head just slightly.

      “God’s blood!” the girl next to her swore.,

      “Fortune!” India looked scandalized. “She is my younger sister, and has never been out in society before,” India excused her sibling. “She will never, I fear, behave properly.”

      “Is flirting outrageously with a man you’ve just met proper?” Fortune demanded.

      India flushed. “I am not flirting! I was being polite.”

      Fortune snorted.

      Henry Lindley laughed. “Sisters,” he said, effectively dismissing them both as silly creatures. “India, if you are quite through being indignant I will introduce you to Viscount Twyford, who for some reason has insisted upon making your acquaintance. The word beautiful did pass his lips when he spoke of you.”

      India Lindley turned her golden eyes upon Adrian Leigh. She held out her hand. “How do you do, my lord,” she murmured.

      “Much better now that we have met, my lady,” he returned, taking her slender, elegant little hand and kissing it.

      Fortune rolled her eyes comically. “Henry, I am suddenly nauseous. Will you escort me away from this sickening sweetness?”

      India did not hear her. She had the presence of mind to withdraw her hand from Viscount Twyford’s grasp, but she was already intrigued by him.

      “Zut alors, India! Un Anglais avec charme,” a voice declared, and an outrageously beautifully dressed young man turned from the throng. Taking up India’s hand, so recently released by Viscount Twyford, he kissed it gallantly. “Bonjour, ma belle cousine.”

      “René! Oh, René, you have grown up, haven’t you?” India’s gaze swept over the handsome Frenchman. He was quite gorgeous.

      “Oui, chérie, je suis un homme.”

      “Speak English, René! You are in England now, and not France,” India scolded him. “And you do speak better English than most English speak French, Cousin. How good it is to see you again!” She turned again to Lord Summers and Viscount Twyford. “This is the chevalier St. Justine, my cousin. René, Lord John Summers, and Adrian Leigh, Viscount Twyford. René, I didn’t know you were coming with the queen from France. I didn’t see you in Paris,” Jasmine said. “Why are you here?”

      “One of Her Majesty’s gentlemen of honor fell ill at the last moment, and as I had just come up from Archambault to Paris on estate business, and stopped at the Louvre to pay my respects to King Louis, it seems I was in the right spot at the right time. It’s quite an accolade for the family that I was chosen, chérie.”

      “And just how are you related?” the viscount asked, not simply curious, but strangely jealous. She called him cousin, but exactly how close were they? The froggie was perhaps too handsome, too suave.

      Lord Summers, the chevalier, and young Henry Lindley all recognized the suspicion in Adrian Leigh’s tone. It was an incredible presumption on his part to voice such an inquiry, but India seemed totally unaware.

      “René’s great-grandmother and my great-grandfather were brother and sister,” she answered the viscount. “I spent part of my childhood in France. René and I were playmates. René! Do you recognize Henry all grown up. And there is Fortune over there with Mama.”

      The chevalier bowed to the marquis. “My lord, it is good to see you again as well. Now, however, I shall go and pay my respects to your parents, and Lady Fortune, eh?”

      “I’ll come with you,” India said, tucking her hand through his arm. “Mama will be so surprised, René. Henry . . .” She called to her brother. “You come, too.” Then, smiling at the other two gentlemen, she moved off across the Great Hall with her escorts.

      “You have an admirer, ma petite,” René St. Justine noted mischievously as they walked.

      “A bit bold for my taste,” Henry Lindley replied. “There is something I have heard about the family that is not savory, but I cannot think what it is right now.”

      “I do hope you are not going to be one of those overly protective brothers, Henry,” India said sharply. “Remember that I am older than you are. I thought Viscount Twyford rather charming, and he is handsome.”

      “You are ten months older than I am, India,” her brother reminded her. “ ’Tis hardly a generation. The earl of Oxton! Yes! Now I remember! The earl’s eldest son was implicated in the murder of a rival in love, and fled England. He disappeared, and has never been heard of again. The earl fell into a deep decline, and has not appeared publicly since it happened. Your swain is his younger half-brother, India, son of the second wife, who is said to take her lovers from among her servants and tenants. Charming, indeed! I’m surprised a fellow as decent as Summers would associate with such a man. I hardly think Viscount Twyford suitable for you, Sister.”

      “You cannot blame the viscount for the behavior of either his elder half-brother or his mother, Henry. How unfair of you!” India cried. “I like him, and if he wishes to pay me his addresses, I shall welcome them. Say anything to Father about his unfortunate relations, and Father will know about that little housemaid at Greenwood you have been fucking in dark hallways. Didn’t think I knew, did you?”

      “God’s blood!” her brother swore. “How did you know?”

      “Are all men that noisy when they fuck?” India wondered aloud.

      The chevalier burst out laughing. “India, you have not changed, little cousin. I am so glad!” Then he paused a moment and said, “But Henry is correct in one sense, chérie. A man is rarely unlike his family in his behavior. Besides, you can do better than a mere viscount. You are the daughter of a marquis, the stepdaughter of a duke. You have a marquis for a brother and a duke for a brother, and that little duke is the king’s own nephew. Aye, chérie, you can do much better than a provincial little viscount.”

      “I shall do as I please,” India answered him, and he laughed once more. “I am not just well connected, but rich as well, René, and when you are rich, you can do as you please,” she told him.

      “Within the law,” her brother reminded her disapprovingly.

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