Darling Jasmine (11 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: Darling Jasmine
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England
SPRING 1615
Chapter
6
T
hey left Belle Fleurs, crossing the River Loire at Tours, and traveling up to Paris, where they rested for a few days at the de Saville town house, which was located in the Rue Soeur Celestine. Although Jasmine's coach accompanied them, she and James Leslie preferred riding their horses to being confined within the vehicle. A large baggage coach had accompanied them, containing not only the luggage, but Fergus More and Rohana, the two remaining servants. Madame Skye had departed for England two and a half weeks earlier, taking Adali and Toramalli with her, much to Daisy's great relief.
“Yer surely losing yer wits, my lady, when you volunteer to chaperone those four wild creatures back to England,” she scolded Skye. “Do I not have all I can do just looking after you? You ain't getting any easier with age, and I ain't no lass anymore. I'm just an old widow woman like yerself.”
Her mistress immediately reassured Daisy that Jasmine's two servants would be controlling the children. “They are only traveling with us, Daisy,” she said. “Adali and Toramalli will handle everything.”
“Well, I should hope so!” Daisy responded sharply.
Riding through the French countryside, Jemmie at her side, Jasmine remembered the exchange. She almost felt guilty that she had let her children go on ahead, thus allowing her this wonderful time with the man she was to marry. Beginning their journey, they had ridden a road through the vineyards along the Loire. The vines were replete with a new growth of bright green leaves, the tender tendrils reaching out for support. The vineyards eventually gave way to apple orchards in bloom, the air sweet with the delicate fragrance. The weather was perfect, and they rode beneath a canopy of blue skies with a warm sun on their shoulders.
The comte de Cher had supplied them with a large armed escort. He had arranged for their accommodation in small, clean inns, where the food was simple, but fresh and tasty, and the wines rich and fruity. It was almost a disappointment to arrive finally in Paris. Jasmine liked it little better than she liked London. Like that other city, the smells were rank from the garbage in the gutters, the crush of unwashed bodies in the streets, and the noise of discord that rarely seemed to die away. They visited Notre Dame and were admitted to the Louvre, where they saw the young king, Louis XIII, at dinner with his new queen, the Infanta Anne of Austria.
“Grandmama never liked Paris,” Jasmine noted. “She says the French are an unpredictable people, prone to violence.”
“She's right,” the earl responded. “The Catholics and the Protestants are beginning to fight again. The queen mother, Marie de Medici, and her brother-in-law, Concini, are yet ruling in the king's name. Cardinal Mazarin is a man to be reckoned with, and there is a new, young cleric, Armand-Jean de Plessis de Richelieu, who, I suspect, will eventually be a power to contend with, on the horizon. France is not a safe place right now.”
They stayed but two days, departing for the coast where
Cardiff Rose,
an O'Malley-Small trading company ship, awaited them. Boarding in the afternoon, James Leslie and Jasmine saw the coast of England the following morning, and remained on deck as the vessel swept around Margate Head on the incoming tide and into the wide estuary of the River Thames. The brisk May winds moved their transport up the waterway to London by the early evening. To their surprise they found Adali awaiting them with the de Marisco barge, which would ferry them to Greenwood House on the Strand.
“How on earth did you know when we would be arriving?” Jasmine asked her faithful retainer.
“I escorted your grandmother to Queen's Malvern, and then returned to London to await you, my lady. The captain of
Cardiff Rose
was instructed to tell me when he planned to depart, and how long it would take him to return to London. Lady de Marisco's factor in Paris notified her agent in London by pigeon when you left and when to expect you at Dover, my lady. The rest was quite simple,” Adali concluded. Then he turned to the earl of Glenkirk. “Greetings, my lord. Your journey was a pleasant one, I hope.” But before James Leslie could answer, Adali's sharp eye caught a movement, and he whirled about shouting, “Be careful of that coach, you barbarians! Has it traveled about England and France only to be destroyed by your carelessness? And go gently with the horses, or you will face my wrath.” He turned back to Jasmine. “My princess, I think I must oversee this process else these louts ruin the carriage and frighten the animals. The barge will take you upriver to Greenwood. Toramalli returned to London with me and awaits you. All is in readiness for your arrival. There has already been a message from the king. He expects you at Whitehall in two days' time, and your uncle, the earl, is in residence at Lynmouth House, my lady.” He bowed to them, and then, turning away, hurried off the vessel onto the docks, shouting instructions, and waving his arms.
Jasmine giggled. “He becomes more like an old woman with each passing year,” she said, “but I could never do without him.”
“Glenkirk Castle will certainly be surprised by him,” the earl chuckled. “I like your Adali, darling Jasmine. He is devoted to you as am I. He is also intelligent and industrious, not to mention loyal.”
“He has never forgotten that my mother, Lady Gordon, gave him the opportunity to advance himself, or that when she departed my father's realm my father entrusted my safety to him. He has been with me my entire life. I cannot imagine being without Adali.”
They debarked
Cardiff Rose
and entered the barge, seating themselves within the little cabin, which had etched glass windows and a scarlet velvet bench with the painted red-and-gold designs upon the bench's oak back. The entry curtain was drawn back with a gold rope so they might see out as the Greenwood bargemen rowed them upriver to their destination. About them the twilight was deepening.
He put his arm about her, saying, “I cannot wait to pay our respects to the king and leave London so we may be wed. In the autumn I shall take you home to Scotland. We will hunt red deer on the heathered hillsides, and you will see the trees become banners of scarlet and gold with the arrival of the cold weather. And when the snows come, we will nestle together like two rabbits deep in their winter burrow, doing what rabbits do best,” he finished mischievously, pulling her close and fondling her breasts as his lips brushed against her hair, her cheek, finally finding her lips.
She purred, molding herself against him with a contented sigh, her mouth ripe and yielding beneath his. “Ummmmmm,” she murmured. “Oh, Jemmie, you do bring out the wanton in me, I fear. Stop it this minute else the bargemen see and gossip.”
In answer he reached out and, pulling at the door curtain tie, successfully obtained their privacy. Then, before she might offer a feeble protest, he knelt before her and, pushing her skirts up, lowered his dark head between her milky thighs. The touch of his tongue upon her sensitive flesh elicited a sharp gasp from Jasmine, particularly when he flicked his tongue rapidly back and forth over her tingling flesh. His elegant hands held her thighs apart firmly, but insistently.
“Jemmmmmmie!”
she squeaked, struggling to keep her voice low so the bargemen would not hear her obvious pleasure. The tension was building within her nether regions. Her fingers kneaded his dark head frantically. “Ohhh, God!”
He raised his head, and his green-gold eyes were fierce.
“I want you! Here! Now!”
He twisted himself about so that he was seated once more, then he pulled her onto his lap, impaling her upon his manhood, which had somehow broken loose of the restraints of his clothing. With one quick thrust he filled her.
“Ohhhh, yessss!” she moaned, her head thrashing, feeling as if she was about to erupt with pleasure. They shouldn't be doing this
here.
Not with just a velvet curtain between them and four burly bargemen. “Ohhhhh, Jemmmie!” It was wicked. It was disgraceful. What if they were caught?
It was wonderful!
She rode him hungrily.
His head was spinning.
She was wanton.
She was delicious. He had never desired a woman like he desired Jasmine.
And now she was his!
He groaned and, unable to help himself, allowed his hot seed to water her hidden garden, even as she collapsed against him, her dark head falling onto his shoulder. His arms wound about her, holding her close, nuzzling at her perfumed hair. “You are irresistible, madame,” he murmured low. “I came to France determined to punish you for your outrageous disobedience—hating you for making me a figure of ridicule—and within three months' time you enthrall me, and I am helpless to your charms once again. What is worse, I am content to be so, Jasmine. I believe that I have never stopped loving you.” Gently he lifted her off his lap and set her next to him again.
Jasmine smoothed her skirts, her cheeks pink and burning. He was an incredible and daring lover she had discovered these past few weeks, but love? She could not lie to him, nor would he want it. “I have never had the time to fall in love with you,” she said slowly.
“I know,” he replied, “but I did fall in love with you that Twelfth Night so long ago at your uncle's fete. Alas, I was a laggard in revealing my emotions, even to myself, Jasmine. You married Rowan Lindley and went on with your life. I continued to love you in secret. When Rowan died, and Prince Henry claimed you for his own, you moved into a new relationship while I clutched my secret to my breast, never daring to believe that one day you would be mine. Now you are, and you will have a lifetime to learn to love me, darling Jasmine.”
“And will I?” she asked him softly.
He turned her face to his with a gentle hand. His gaze was warm, and Jasmine was suddenly breathless. “Aye, madame,” he answered her low. “You will learn to love me.” Then he kissed her lips, and she felt as near to swooning as she had ever felt.
“Greenwood Landing!” a voice called out.
Instantly James Leslie leaned forward and drew back the curtain shielding them. “You made good time,” he said to the head bargeman.
“Tide still be with us, my lord,” was the answer, “and Gawd only knows how many times we've rowed up and down the old Thames.”
The bargemen guided the boat up against the quai landing. It bumped the stone gently. When it had been made fast to the piling, James Leslie exited the little cabin, helping Jasmine, and they gained the shore, walking up the lawns to the house. A figure came forward to greet them, and, recognizing him, Jasmine ran forward into his embrace.
“Uncle Robin!” She lifted her heart-shaped face for a kiss.
Robert Southwood, the earl of Lynmouth, hugged his niece warmly, and kissed her cheek. “So, you impossible vixen, you have at last come home to us. The king is eager to see you, but not so eager to punish you now that he has seen his grandson, I think.” Southwood escorted the couple up into the house.
“The king has seen Charles Frederick?” Jasmine was surprised.
“Mama stopped in London with the children when she arrived two weeks ago. She brought your offspring to court. The king was delighted and every bit as loving to your young marquis and his lady sisters as he was to his own blood. The children's manners were exquisite, and everyone was mightily impressed by them, Jasmine. Did you not know that Mama intended to visit Whitehall before she departed for Queen's Malvern? No,” the Earl of Lynmouth answered his own question. “You obviously did not know. Mama is as clever as she ever was, I think. She has done you a great kindness, my dear, and taken the edge off of the king's anger. Things have not been going well for the king of late, and your very public disobedience has not helped his mood. Now, however, having seen little Charles Frederick, he is less testy. The boy is a delight, and charmed his royal grandfather completely.”
Jasmine was silent, then she said. “All the children went to Queen's Malvern with Grandmama, didn't they, Uncle Robin?”
“Of course,” he replied. “What made you ask such a question?”
“Jasmine fears that the king will take Charlie-boy away from her and give him to strangers to raise, even as he did with Prince Henry. The queen once warned Jasmine of such a thing. I do not believe that she will rest easily until the king assures her otherwise,” the earl of Glenkirk told the earl of Lynmouth.
Robin Southwood looked thoughtful, and said, “I think that we must indeed get the king's word that Charles Frederick Stuart remains with his mother and stepfather. Aye! We need a royal guarantee.”
“What have you heard?” Jasmine was pale with anticipation.
“Nothing, my dear,” Robin Southwood hurried to reassure his niece, “but it is always wise not to put one's trust in kings, Jasmine. Their exalted status makes them believe that God sanctions their every move, and I do not think that it is always so. You did not, however, hear me say that. I am the king's loyal servant and would never question his divine right.” He patted her shoulder, his lime green eyes twinkling.
She giggled, and the girlish sound did his heart good. “Uncle, you are really quite disrespectful of the king,” she teased.
“Never, my dear,” he replied. “You will remember that I grew up in a far more impressive court than this one is, and served a greater queen than this king. Like my father before me, I am the perfect courtier. However, I have only come up from Devon to welcome you home, Jasmine, and to smooth your way in two days' time when you must present yourself to James Stuart and make your abject apologies to him for your disobedience. After that I am gone, back to my sweet Angel and the children and our grandchildren. I no longer have a taste for this life, I fear. I think the king's little passions will be his downfall. First Carr, and now two new young men vie for his favor.”

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