Darling Jasmine (3 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

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“Were you unhappy with either of your husbands, Jasmine?” Skye questioned her granddaughter.
“No,” Jasmine admitted, “but you got to choose your husbands!”
“Dom O'Flaherty, my first husband, may he rot in hell, was my father's choice. Willow's father rescued me from slavery in Algiers and married me. Niall Burke was chosen for me by my uncle, the bishop, and we were wed by proxy without my knowledge. Fabron de Beaumont was the old queen's selection. Only Geoffrey Southwood and your grandfather were my decisions, Jasmine.”
“And they were your happiest marriages,”
her granddaughter said. “I do not believe I will have six husbands, Grandmama. I want to make my own selection this time. I won't be coerced dammit!”
“Madame,” the earl of Glenkirk said quietly, “you have no options but to obey your king as do I. To disobey is treason, as you well know, but should you choose such a dangerous option be advised that I shall return to England in several days' time with my four charges, the infant duke of Lundy, the marquis of Westleigh, and the ladies India and Fortune Lindley. If you wish to remain mother to your children, you will accompany us. If you do not, I shall see that you never see them again, for you shall be banned from King James's realm forever.”
Jasmine's unusual turquoise-colored eyes widened with shock.
“You bastard!”
she hissed. “You would do that to me?”
He looked at her dispassionately. “I thought we had settled the matter of my birth, madame, and yes, I will obey the king.”
She flung her goblet at his head, but ducking it he reached up to grasp her wrist in a firm hold. Slowly he forced her arm down, and back behind her, drawing her against him. Then, bending, he kissed her a fierce kiss, his lips hard, the embrace a clear declaration of war between them. Jasmine struggled, but could not break his hold on her, but when he released her a moment later, she reared back and slapped him with all her might. Then, turning about, she ran from the hall.
“Is it that you hate her or love her?” Skye asked him, curious.
James Leslie shook his dark head. “Once I loved her to distraction. When I arrived here today I thought I hated her. Now I don't know what I feel for her, Madame Skye. Why does she resist her fate so strongly?”
“Surely you have known since you first met her, my lord, that Jasmine is very proud, and absolutely determined to have her way in life,” Skye answered him. “We both know that the king meant well for her when he ordered your marriage, and indeed it is an ideal solution for Jasmine. Even I am now willing to admit to it. You are an excellent candidate for her hand, as you are in high favor with King James,
and
you have your own wealth.”
“I am astounded by this turn of events, madame,” the earl of Glenkirk replied. “You were, if I am not mistaken, highly involved in Jasmine's departure from England almost two years ago.”
“Indeed I was,” Skye admitted, not one bit abashed. “But I only meant for her to have a little bit of time to compose herself and come to terms with her fate. Unfortunately the months became a year, and I swear to you that I meant to bring her home, but somehow I did not get around to it. I have a very large family, my lord, and they always seem to need one thing or another from me.” She gave him a weak smile, and shrugged her elegant shoulders. “I am not as young as I once was. I regret I did not take action soon in this particular matter. Jasmine has, I fear, become quite independent of us all.”
“Does she love her bairns enough to follow them?” he wondered.
“Whatever happens, my lord, do not weaken in your resolve,” she told him. “I will help you to the best of my ability.”
“You have not answered my question, madame,” he replied.
“She loves her children, yes. Jasmine is a devoted mother,” Skye replied, “but I will have all I can do to keep her from acting rashly again, my lord. In this endeavor, however, I will have the help of her servants. That trio have been with her since birth. They are used to all her moods and crochets. Her steward, Adali, has been a surrogate father to her. He will act in her best interest, and the two maidservants will follow suit. As for you, James Leslie, you would be well advised to loosen your curb rein a trifle. High-strung thoroughbred mares do not respond well to it, or to the whip. As a woman who raises horses I possess expert knowledge, and you would do well to take advantage of my expertise in this matter.” She struggled to her feet, thinking to herself that while she felt no older, and her mind still seemed to operate in relatively good order, her bones were old, and the rainy, dank weather was not helping at all. “Are you hungry, my lord? Surely you must be after traveling all day. I envy you your horses. That damned coach is a trial to ride in anymore, I can tell you.”
He chuckled and, taking her arm, led her to the highboard, where the servants were even now setting out the evening meal. She had not bothered to put her boots back on, and walked in her stockinged feet. She lost none of her dignity for it, he thought. Adali appeared and settled the old woman in her chair.
“Where is your mistress?” the earl asked him.
“She has locked herself in her bedchamber and is swearing quite colorfully in at least three languages, my lord,” came the calm reply. “Rohana and Toramalli are in her apartment. They will see she does not leave Belles Fleurs without your lordship.”
“And the children?” He had seen neither hide nor hair of them since his arrival. “Where are the bairns, Adali?”
“In the nursery, my lord. Would you like to see them now or after you have eaten. They are already abed, however.”
“Madame Skye and I will see them on the morrow, Adali,” James Leslie replied.
“Shall I see a tray is taken up to my lady?” Adali asked.
“No,” came the answer. “If your lady wishes to eat, then she must join us here at the highboard. She is not ill. Go and tell her we would welcome her company.”
“Very good, my lord,” Adali responded, his smooth light tan face bland as a pudding. He could but imagine what his mistress was going to say to such an invitation, but he was strangely comforted by the earl's firmness. Over the last months his lady had become more and more intractable and mulish. She had allowed her offspring to run wild. The three older ones spoke a mixture of Pidgin French and English to each other, and French to the servants. Jasmine had practically neglected them in her grief over Prince Henry's death. She lavished all of her attention upon his son, who turned two the previous September, and the lad was in danger of becoming very spoiled. It would be good for his lady to have a man in the house again, in her bed again. Now all they had to do was convince her of that fact.
He found his mistress now out of her bedchamber and directing her two maidservants in packing her trunks.
“We'll be gone before either he or my grandmother awaken in the morning, Adali,” she said. “Is there something you can put in the wine tonight to assure them a sound sleep?”
Adali signaled the two maidservants to cease their activity. “You would leave your children, my lady?” he said quietly.
“Of course not!” she cried. “The children will come with us. Why would you think I would leave the children?”
“In your determination to have your own way, my princess, you would deliberately disobey the king of England and rob your four children of their inheritance? Such irrational behavior reminds me of your brother, Salim, now the Grande Mughal Jahangir,” Adali said. His brown eyes surveyed her calmly. As a boy he had resembled his Indian mother. Now, a man in his late middle years, he favored his French father.
Jasmine was surprised by his words. Adali had been with her her entire life, and she thought of him as her best friend. Her anger diffused, she said, “Surely you do not suggest that I wed with the earl of Glenkirk?”
“He is a good match for you, my princess. A wealthy man who stands in high favor with King James. He is attractive, and you have already had the benefit of a night in his bed those many years ago. I do not seem to recall you considered him a poor lover then. He likes your children, and wants sons of his own. What more is there, my princess? Women of your high caste do not wed on whim, and without a powerful husband you can do nothing but sit and wait for death to come.”
“Violent death has claimed both of my husbands, Adali,” Jasmine responded. “And death reached out to claim Prince Henry, unexpectedly and in his prime. The earl of Glenkirk would do well to reconsider before wedding with such a woman as I. Perhaps my brother has cursed me from afar. Besides, James Leslie has no love for me any longer. He marries me to please the king and for no other reason. Indeed from the look in his eye I would say he hates me, Adali.”
“Then you should have no great feeling of loss if he dies violently as did Jamal Khan and Rowan Lindley,” Adali reasoned with her,
“and
you will have obeyed the king, thus regaining his favor for yourself and your children. If your brother has indeed cursed you, my princess, and the men you give your heart to die, then surely Lord Leslie will feel the sting of the Mughal's malediction, too. It is an ideal way to rid yourself of your enemy, is it not?”
“You do not believe for a moment that I am cursed, do you, Adali?” Jasmine said irritably. “You are all against me now, even my grandmother. She will help the earl, which is why I must flee tonight else I shall never have another opportunity.”
“Again you put your self-interest before that of your children,” Adali scolded her roundly. “You have been alone too long, my princess. You must come back into the world again, and the children with you. I will not help you to run this time, and neither will Rohana or Toramalli. Besides, my daughter, where can you go if you leave Belle Fleurs? King James's lands will be forbidden, so you cannot go to England, Scotland, or your Irish estates. You have only managed to hide here in France with the aid of your relations; but when Madame Skye tells them ‘Nay,' then France will be closed to you, too. Besides, there is already war in this land over religion. Soon it will not be safe at all. Where else is there for you? We both know you cannot return to India and your brother. There is no place for you except by your husband's side, my princess.” The eunuch was firm of tone, and his look told Jasmine that for the first time in her life she had no other options but those very unpalatable ones presented to her. “Shall I tell his lordship you will be joining them at the highboard, my princess?” Adali gently pressed her.
She wanted to say no, but she was hungry. The idea of sneaking down into her own kitchens to steal food was intolerable. Besides, why should he drive her from her own table? James Leslie was arrogant beyond any man she had ever met, but God's nightshirt, he would not keep her from her supper. “I must change my gown,” Jasmine said in regal Mughal tones. “Please tell my grandmother that I shall join her shortly.” Dismissing Adali, she turned to her maidservants.
Adali restrained his delight that his mistress had decided to act in a reasonable fashion. It was, he knew, a temporary measure until Jasmine could come up with some other scheme to avoid doing her duty, but they would defuse that problem when it reared its head. Reentering the hall, he said, “My mistress will join you momentarily. She is changing her gown, my lord.”
“Well done, Adali!” Skye complimented him. “Was she packing?”
The steward laughed. “Aye, madame, she was, but as I pointed out to her, she has no other place to hide. Her place is by her husband's side now not just for her own standing, but for the children's as well.” Adali bowed, then began directing the serving of the evening meal.
James Leslie watched him with a speculative gaze.
“He is loyal to her first and foremost,” Skye said quietly in answer to the unspoken question, “but he serves her best interests even when she disagrees with him. Treat her well, and he will be your most valuable ally, my lord. Remember, a powerful king trusted him.”
The earl nodded, and then he saw her enter the hall. For a moment he almost forgot his anger, for she was every bit as beautiful as he had remembered her. Gowned in burgundy velvet, her black hair now dressed in the familiar chignon, she made her way to the table. James Leslie rose, bowing, kissing her hand, seating her by his side. Jasmine acknowledged him but briefly.
“How lovely you look, my darling girl,” Skye said. “The picture of fashion, I vow.”
“Have fashions not changed that much then these months?” Jasmine said lightly. “What a shame. I was anticipating having your Bonnie make me a brand new wardrobe, grandmama.”
“You shall have whatever your heart desires, madame,” the earl said. “As my bride you are entitled to a bridal wardrobe. My pockets are deep as you well know.”
“If I wish new garments, my lord,” Jasmine said in scathing tones, “I am more than able to pay for them. I am far wealthier than you are, sir. We had best discuss this now. The king may order us to wed, but until I agree to do so there will be no marriage between us. First there must be the legalities. While I will give you a reasonable dowry, my lord, the bulk of my wealth remains mine. Until you agree to that, you will not have me to wife.”
There,
she thought,
that will set his proud Scots heart back a pace.

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