Episode Eleven FORK U It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend. William Blake Juan Carlos did not tarry as he prepared himself for the chicanery of the day ahead; however, by the time he reached the comfortable downstairs dining room, the ladies of the château had taken their seats at a long table, awaiting his arrival. While Posh and her daughter greeted the Jackal with beaming faces, Maddie stared at her plate dejectedly, playing with a pile of scrambled eggs, obviously annoyed. "Don Juan Carlos, sit here, next to me," Mrs. Peyton near ordered, patting the seat of a carved chair. The enemy in jackal's clothing paused, wished the congregation a "Good morning," then made for a vacant spot next to the youngest Peyton in attendance. "How are you feeling?" he asked the young woman, dressed in simple equestrian garb. "Better, I trust?" Olivia smiled, and although the good-hearted Duke was still on her mind, the attention paid her by the seemingly charming Juan Carlos was not unpleasant, either. "As best as might be expected, thank you," she managed. "I so appreciate all your help yesterday." "My daughter is fine, dear Juanito Carlito," Posh pooh-poohed. "Isn't she, Ms. Madeline? No need to fuss over our little tomboy." "No, no need to do that," Maddie sniped sarcastically. "Tell us, though, Mr. Jackal..." "Address our guest as Don Juan Carlos, please," Olivia joked, raising an egg-laden fork as might one a standard in battle. "I swear, Maddie...don't bring out my Joan of Ark-ness 'cause I'll do it..." "Don't Joan of Arc me, Olivia Primrose. I saved you, remember...if it wasn't for me, you'd still be locked up in that creepy dungeon! Don Juan Carlos, yes, why don't you tell Miss O and her mother about your real role in last night's production..." "Girls, girls," Posh intervened. "Senor Jackal would rather talk about something much more interesting, wouldn't you, my dear little terrorist? Of course you would. Something...dangerous, something much more...stimulating, am I not correct?" "Ah, the French toast!" the object of the ladies' conversation exulted. Whisking a platter laden with golden brown griddled bread and more fluffy eggs, a jovial Professor Peyton swung the pain perdu expertly into place.    Text Copyright © 1999 - 2005 cybersybils.com All rights reserved.