"Jean-Claude," Lady Stewart-Hepburn said, turning to her son-in-law, " 'tis really quite good of you to have us all."

"The château is large," the due de St. Laurent replied cordially, "and a few more children makes little difference."

His mother-in-law raised an eyebrow, and then she laughed. James Leslie had three sons of his own, plus two stepdaughters and two stepsons. Seven in all, and it was hardly a trifle especially when added to her daughter and son-in-law's six children. Her youngest child, her daughter, Francesca, had married her dashing French duke fourteen years ago when she was sixteen, and had lived happily with him ever since. Shortly afterward her beloved second husband, Francis Stewart-Hepburn, had grown suddenly ill, and died. But he had lived to see both of his daughters settled. Francesca with her Jean-Claude, and Jean, or Gianna as she was known, the wife of the marchese di San Ridolfi. Their son, Ian, was another matter, and had yet to settle down.

"How is Jeannie?" the duke of Glenkirk asked his mother as they entered the house.

"So Italian that you would never fathom that she was a Scot," his mother answered him.

"And Ian? What mischief is he up to these days?"

"We must speak on Ian," came the terse reply.

They entered a bright salon where the family awaited them.

"Grandmère! Grandmère!" Francesca's children rushed forth to surround her, demanding her attention as they welcomed her.

"Welcome, Mama," the duchesse de St. Laurent said as she kissed her parent. "I thank God that you have come safely to us."

"The trip is long, and it is tedious, Francesca," her mother replied, "but not dangerous." How beautiful she was, Cat thought. She has his wonderful auburn hair, and my eyes. When she smiles, I see him. She acknowledged Francesca's children, the four boys and two little girls, greeting each by name. Then, looking across the salon, Lady Stewart-Hepburn saw that her eldest son had joined a beautiful woman with night-dark hair and spectacular jewelry.