Darling Jasmine (9 page)
Authors: Bertrice Small
“I tend to agree, madame,” the earl said, restraining the chortle that threatened to burst forth from his throat. He had known that the old lady would not allow Jasmine's bairns to return to Belle Fleurs, but he had not been certain exactly how she would manage this feat. Madame Skye was absolutely brilliant in her tactics. “I will hire a goodly force of the comte's men to escort you first to Paris, then on to the coast. The roads are not all that safe, as you know, particularly now with another war threatening to break out.”
“Aye, that is wise,” Skye agreed. “I know Alexandre will be more than happy to give you the loan of some men-at-arms.”
The door to the salon burst open, and Jasmine, looking agitated, entered the room. “What is this that Henry tells me, grandmama? That you are taking the children to Paris? I will not allow it!”
“Darling girl, do not be foolish,” her grandmother soothed her. “Aye, we are off to Paris in a few days' time, and from there to England, where we will begin making preparations for your wedding, and notifying the family of your return. In the meantime, you and Lord Leslie will have more time to work out any little difficulties between you, and to know one another better. You are quite fortunate to have me relieve you of your responsibilities, even temporarily, Jasmine.”
Jasmine glared at the earl. “And you agree with this plan?”
He considered placating her, but remembering Madame Skye's words he said, “Aye, I do, my dear. I realize that I am being selfish, but I very much want you to myself for the time being.”
“Oh?”
Her cheeks pinked slightly.
Her cheeks pinked slightly.
“You know that I adore your bairns, Jasmine, but 'tis I am marrying, and not the wee ones,” he murmured, catching at her hand, and kissing it longingly. “This time alone is precious, and I will have it, my darling Jasmine!”
As I will have you.
The words were unspoken, but distinctly implied, and understood between them.
As I will have you.
The words were unspoken, but distinctly implied, and understood between them.
“So,” Skye said briskly, “it is settled. Run back to the children and enjoy your day with them, darling girl. I must keep your betrothed with me a moment or two more to discuss certain arrangements about the wedding regarding his family.”
Bemused Jasmine exited the salon.
“What arrangements?” he questioned her when the younger woman was gone.
Skye laughed. “There are none,” she chuckled. “I just wanted Jasmine to consider what had happened without further distractions. 'Twas nicely done, my lord. You were forceful, yet loving. Continue on in that manner, and you will gain your objectives.”
Eventually, he joined Jasmine and the children, all of whom were delighted to see him, and rushed at him, crying,
“Papa! Papa!”
He shook young Henry's hand and kissed the others warmly. The four youngsters were in excellent health and obviously having a wonderful time with their de Saville cousins.
“Papa! Papa!”
He shook young Henry's hand and kissed the others warmly. The four youngsters were in excellent health and obviously having a wonderful time with their de Saville cousins.
“We're going home to England soon,” Henry said.
“I know,” the earl answered him. “Your mother and I will come shortly afterward, and be married at Queen's Malvern on the fifteenth day of June. Will you stand by my side as my witness, Henry?”
The boy marquis of Westleigh nodded enthusiastically. “Aye, Papa, I will, and gladly!” Then he sobered a bit. “Do you mind that we call you
Papa?
I know you are not yet wed to our mother, but . . .”
Papa?
I know you are not yet wed to our mother, but . . .”
“I am pleased and honored that you would accept me in such a capacity, Henry,” James Leslie answered.
“Will you teach me to use a sword properly?” Henry asked.
“We will begin this summer,” the earl promised him.
The rest of the day sped by. They partook of a lavish meal with the comte de Cher and his wife, Helene. The comte's heir, Phillippe, his wife Marie-Claire, and the comte's two daughters, Gaby and Antoinette and their families were also there to meet the earl of Glenkirk.
“We know your cousins, the Leslie de Peyracs,” Gaby said. “There is the possibility of a match between our two families.”
“May it prove advantageous for both sides,” the earl murmured politely. “My mother's uncle is, of course, long gone, but I am not particularly fond of his widow, the ancient dowager, Adele. She rules the roost, or so I am told.”
Gaby nodded. “I know the old witch well, but 'tis one of her great-granddaughters who is to wed our middle son. They will live here in the Loire with us, and not at Château Petite.”
The conversation continued on in such a vein. The comparison of families, local gossip, and curiosity as to when the wedding between Jasmine and the earl would take place. The de Savilles were filled with regret that it would not be celebrated at Belle Fleurs, but they understood, and wished the couple well. Finally their departure could be delayed no longer. Jasmine appeared close to tears.
“Do not distress the bairns, sweeting,” the earl said softly.
“You are always telling me not to weep over my children,” she snapped at him, but her melancholy was already gone.
“Let me know when you intend arriving,” Skye said cheerfully. “ 'Twill be good to have you home again. Remember, your mother and your brothers will be arriving May first. How delighted my Velvet will be to see her grandchildren at long last!”
“I cannot help but think that you and Jemmie have somehow manipulated me, Grandmama,” Jasmine muttered darkly.
“Why, darling girl, what a dreadful thought,” Skye protested. “I am doing you a great favor. If you think it is easy for a woman of my years, yet in deepest mourning, to travel with four active children, then keep them and bring them yourself!”
“You would swoon if I agreed to such a thing,” Jasmine teased her grandmother. “Nay, I do appreciate your kindness, but I will miss them.” She hugged the older woman warmly.
“Get on with you, you clever vixen,” her grandmother said. “I will see you in England, and do not dally too long with that delicious man you are to marry, although I should not blame you if you sampled a few of the honeymoon delights while still here in France. Spring is coming, Jasmine, and the sap is rising in all living things!”
She and the earl laughed at Skye's parting remark as they rode back to Belle Fleurs. “Can you imagine her in her youth?” Jasmine said.
“The thought is absolutely terrifying,” he replied, grinning. Then, “Are you game for some chess this evening, madame?”
“After I have bathed,” she said. “Do you not tire of being beaten, Jemmie?” She giggled mischievously and, kicking her mare into a canter, let him chase her back home. This time, however, he did not stop until his horse had reached the inner courtyard of the château, beating her by several lengths.
“Your stallion's legs are much longer than my mare's,” she complained prettily. “Just wait until I have my great beast back under me. Only then will we be evenly matched.”
“I already think us evenly matched,” he said, lifting her down from her horse. Then he kissed her in a slow and leisurely fashion, letting his lips taste her mouth with outrageous sensuality. “You do not have to wait to return to England, Jasmine, to have this great beast beneath you,” he murmured softly, nuzzling at a strand of hair that had come loose in their ride. His big hands remained still, molding her slender waist between his fingers.
Was she breathing? Aye, she was breathing, but barely. His hands were burning through the soft tanned deerskin of her jerkin, through the cambric of her shirt. His mouth on hers had been startling, but when he pushed at her hair with the tip of his nose her head had swum tipsily. She reached out to put her hands upon his shoulders, steadying herself against his bulk. “I think you go too quickly with me, Jemmie,” she whispered breathlessly.
“And I think you go too slowly with me, Jasmine,” he quickly countered. “We are neither of us children and know the path we are taking.” A slow smile lit his features, crinkling the corners of his green eyes. “Let us make a wager on the outcome of tonight's chess match between us. Are you game?”
She nodded. His hands felt so strong on her flesh. “What hazard do you propose, sir?” She suddenly had the most incredible urge to be naked before him. And have him naked before her. What madness was this? She struggled to put the wicked images invading her mind aside.
“If I win,” he said softly, “I will enter your bed this very night, my darling Jasmine.” His gaze engaged hers.
“And if you lose?”
she asked low.
she asked low.
“The stake is yours to choose,” he replied.
“You will not enter my bed until we are wed.” The words were out of her mouth before she even had time seriously to consider them. Why on earth had she said them, she wondered, feeling a sense of loss as his hands fell away from her waist. Did she really want to hold him off until the middle of June? It was too late to recant.
He chuckled. “Done, madame!” he said, leading her into the château. “I look forward to our matchâand to after the match.”
“For so mediocre a player you are overconfident, Jemmie,” she said sharply. His attitude was mightily irritating.
“I do not intend losing tonight, Jasmine,” he answered her. “The prize is too tempting and delectable a one to forfeit.”
She pulled from his grasp and ran up the staircase to her bedchamber, ordering her servants to prepare her bath as she entered her quarters. Rohana and Toramalli hurried to do her bidding.
“You are disturbed,” Adali noted. “What has upset you, mistress?”
“I have agreed to a chess match with Lord Leslie, and we have made a wager to make our game more interesting. I think I have been foolish, Adali, for I am not certain if I want to win.”
The eunuch chuckled as he helped her to divest herself of her garments. “Tell me,” he said, and then burst into laughter when she had finished. “Ahh, my princess, once long ago, when your father sought to bed your mother for the first time, he played a game of chess with her. It was in the royal city of Fatehpur-Sikri. Together your parents stood on a balcony. The courtyard below them was a chessboard of black-and-white marble squares. The pieces were live slaves, naked but for the jewels they wore, except, of course, the king and queen pieces, who were magnificently garbed and bejeweled.”
“Did my mother win?” Jasmine asked Adali.
He shook his head. “Nay, she did not. The wager between them, however, was but a kiss. It was several nights later before your father gained his objective, and then only through the aid of the pillow book that Jodh Bai gave your mother.”
Now it was Jasmine's turn to chuckle. “So history is about to repeat itself, Adali,” she said.
“Are you certain you wish to lie with him now, my princess? I have seen your reluctance to accept this man.”
“I must wed him, Adali,” she replied, “and I find that I do like him. He loves the children, and they love him,
and
he would have me give him sons. The wedding date is set, and I suddenly find I do not wish to postpone the inevitable. When we were speaking just now in the courtyard, I had the most disturbing thoughts regarding James Leslie. I believe it is time to end my celibacy, Adali.”
and
he would have me give him sons. The wedding date is set, and I suddenly find I do not wish to postpone the inevitable. When we were speaking just now in the courtyard, I had the most disturbing thoughts regarding James Leslie. I believe it is time to end my celibacy, Adali.”
“You will have to be very clever, my princess,” the trusted servant responded. “If Lord Leslie believes for one moment that you have allowed him to win the match, he will be most offended.”
Jasmine smiled as he helped her into her waiting tub. “My father was the best chess player in all of India,” she reminded Adali, “and he never once knew that I let myself lose more often than not, did he?”
Adali grinned. “Nay, my princess, the Mughal never knew that the student surpassed the master. You were adroit in your duplicity.”
“I have not forgotten those skills,” she assured him.
He left her to set up the chessboard in the hall.
Rohana and Toramalli bathed their mistress carefully, having been party to her conversation with Adali. Afterward, wrapped in a towel and seated by her fire, Jasmine thought drowsy thoughts as Rohana slowly brushed her long black hair, drawing the perfumed brush through the silken swath until it gleamed. She yawned. It had been a long day, and she suddenly realized she was tired. “Give me some wine before I collapse,” she said to Toramalli. “The bath has rendered me weak.”
“What will you wear?” Toramalli asked her as she brought her mistress the requested goblet of wine.
“A chamber robe, I think,” came the reply.
The servingwoman nodded and, choosing a silk garment in a rich plum color, brought it to her mistress, who stood up and let her towel fall, holding out her arms to don the robe. It had long flowing sleeves and closed with a small gold frog just below Jasmine's breasts. Rohana then tied back her mistress's hair with a silver ribbon. Plum-and-silver silk slippers completed Lady Lindley's ensemble.
Finishing the wine which had revived her, Jasmine instructed her servants to prepare the bed with fresh linens. “The lovely lavender-scented ones we just obtained from the convent nearby,” she said. Then she departed the bedchamber for the hall, where she found him awaiting her. She stared at his clothing. “A kilt?” she queried him.
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