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 GENTLEMEN IN QUESTION
The story begins at the harbour in Rye, Sussex on a blustery November day in 1792. Madeleine Sedgewick is meeting her cousin, one of the many French aristocrats forced by the Revolution to leave their homeland. Madeleine's life so far has been uneventful, but with the arrival of the Comte du Viviere she finds herself entangled in a dangerous web of intrigue and suspicion and she has to decide if her cousin is a victim or a villain.
The question that haunts Madeleine is, how can she tell? There are two men – both of them suave, urbane and good-looking (this is a romance, after all): one is her cousin, the Comte du Viviere, who has left his homeland and everything he knows, fleeing from the terror of the French Revolution. The other is Beau Hauxwell, a rich English gentleman of fashion. Madeleine likes them both, but how is she to know which one is to be trusted?
I had great fun writing this book, especially since I had not one but two handsome men to play with (figuratively speaking, of course!) and isn't it odd that we do like our villains to be attractive, at least in fiction. And there is an added bonus: one of the gentlemen in question is French, and there is something soooo sexy about that French accent! Read an extract ......
Miss Sedgewick turned towards the door, to observe the tall gentleman who paused in the entrance to survey the assembled guests. He certainly presented a very striking figure. His tall form was displayed to advantage in a blue evening coat that fitted perfectly across his broad shoulders and he wore the white waistcoat, black knee-breeches and striped stockings with an air of profound elegance. His light brown hair was unpowdered and cut short so that it barely touched the back of his collar. From all she had heard Madeleine had expected a much more flamboyant character and she was surprised to note that he did not sport an abundance of fobs and seals, the mark of the dandy, but merely wore a heavy gold signet ring on one finger and, from a black ribbon around his neck, a quizzing glass swung gently. He bowed towards his host.
'Dashed sorry to keep you waiting, Sir Thomas.' he drawled, putting up one hand to the snowy folds of his cravat, 'My man had not starched the half of my neckcloths. Can you imagine! It has taken me an age to find one that would look even tolerable in company.'
A murmur of laughter rippled across the room. Madeleine turned away, saying just one word as she passed Miss Wyre: 'Fop!'
She moved towards her father, who was standing beside the Comte du Viviere.
'Well, Maddie, have you been talking non-stop with young Cassandra since you arrived here?'
Her eyes twinkled.
'Yes, Papa, and even now we have not caught up with all the news!' she turned to her cousin, 'How is your room, Camille? You are in the west wing, I think. I hope you are comfortable.'
'Thank you, cousin, it is - how do you say it? - Full of luxury.'
'Luxury, my dear M. le Comte?' cried Sir Thomas, coming up at that moment, 'No, no, sir, you are being too kind – the apartment is but bachelor fare, and surely not a whit as sumptuous as your chateau, eh, m’sieur? Ah – pardon me – that was ill said, when you are unlikely to see your home again for some time. Forgive me!'
'Willingly, Sir Thomas, since I know your words were kindly meant.'
'Just so, my dear sir, just so! Now, what did I come over for? Ah yes, of course, I wanted to make sure you had met everyone before we went in to dinner and here is Mr Hauxwell approaching, eager to be acquainted with you.' He drew that gentleman forward and made the introductions in his bluff, good-natured way. Madeleine found herself looking up into a pair of lazy blue eyes that seemed to be mocking her, but before she could speak Sir Thomas continued: 'Mr Hauxwell has recently returned from Europe and he tells me he spent some time in France. You will have much to talk of, M. le Comte.'
The Frenchman inclined his head, then glanced an enquiry at Mr Hauxwell.
You know France well, m’sieur?'
'Indeed, sir, ‘tis like a second home to me. I am quite desolated by the present troubles.' He paused before adding softly, 'The very best tailors are in Paris, you see. Now I shall be obliged to buy my next coat from London.'
Observing the angry flush upon her cousin’s cheek, Madeleine broke in hastily. She said archly:
'But tell me, Mr Hauxwell – for a gentleman of fashion, would you not prefer to be in Town for the winter? When one is so conscious of appearance, surely the country must be something of a trial. There is so much mud.'
'Madeleine!' Mr Sedgewick frowned at his daughter, appalled by her ill-manners, but the gentleman merely smiled, his blue eyes glinting as they rested upon her face.
'Ah, yes. The mud. It is certainly a consideration, but, after all, when one is so admirably entertained indoors, there is no necessity to step outside.'
Sir Thomas laughed heartily.
'Egad, sir, of course you need not go out, but if that spirited creature you keep in my stables ain’t up to his withers in mud tomorrow, then I’m a dutchman! Never seen such a powerful brute. What is it, a Prussian breed?'
'No, Limousin.'
'Ah. A heavy hunter.' put in Mr Sedgewick.
'Aye, that would be it.' Sir Thomas nodded knowledgeably, ' Wait till you see him, George. Beautiful creature, broad chest, beautiful action – haven’t seen him jump yet, of course…'
Seeing her father and godfather thus engaged in talking horseflesh with Mr Hauxwell, Madeleine took her cousin’s arm and led him gently away.
'I think we can safely leave them to their horses, Camille. Pray do not allow that foolish man to anger you.'
'He did not – or at least, only for a moment. But I do not know why he should wish to provoke me.'
She frowned.
'Nor I, cousin and I vow it makes me ashamed of my countrymen.'
The Comte smiled at her vehemence.
'Hush, cousin Madeleine. There is no need for such anger over one little incident. You must not let it spoil your evening. Look, Miss Wyre is waving to you. Is that her young lord at her side? He is the young gentleman who is to be scratched?'
Madeleine laughed.
'Lord Kilmer is to be brought up to scratch, Camille! Lord and Lady Wyre want him to marry Cassandra and he is to be given every opportunity to make her an offer! I think Cassandra wishes to introduce you to him. Come, let us join them. I have every confidence that you will not find his lordship deliberately provoking.'
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