Authors: Bertrice Small
Darling Jasmine (22 page)
“Not while the queen is there,” Villiers replied with a smile. He kissed her hand. “Good night, Lady Lindley. It was a fine match, excellently played. You have my admiration. Your skirts, spread so artfully about you, was indeed the crowning touch.” He turned and walked away, chuckling.
Jasmine laughed as she took her seat and watched him go. A very clever young man as she had earlier noted. He missed nothing. “Adali,” she said, “we are finally free of the marquis of Hartsfield!” And then she proceeded to tell her servant the details of her evening, unaware Adali had been in the hall and seen her pleading with the king.
“Shall we be able to return to Queen's Malvern then, my lady?” Adali asked her as he draped a cloak about her shoulders to keep the chill from the night river wind from her.
“The king has requested that I remain until Jemmie returns so he may see the duke of Lundy again,” she replied.
“With your permission, my lady, I shall hire extra men-at-arms to patrol Greenwood and watch the house. The marquis of Hartsfield did not appear to me to be a particularly good loser. You have publicly repudiated him. He will, unless I miss my guess, be seeking revenge.”
“It's just a few weeks, Adali, and then we shall be gone,” Jasmine reassured him, “but it does no harm to be cautious. Hire the extra men to guard the house and the grounds.”
“A few weeks and she will be gone, my lord,” Piers St. Denis said to the king. “I beg you to change your mind and give her to me!”
“Nay, Piers love, I gie my word too publicly to take it back, and I dinna think I would anyhow. Lady Lindley is too sophisticated for ye. Leave her to Glenkirk. 'Tis better that way.”
The marquis of Hartsfield pouted angrily, turning his handsome face from the king in a show of both defiance and bad manners.
“We'll find you a lovely young wife with a fortune,” the queen promised him. “ 'Twill make up for your disappointment, I'm certain.”
“No!” St. Denis said vehemently. “If you would make me happy, my dear lord, and if I cannot have Jasmine Lindley, then give me the duke of Lundy to nurture and protect. Then I will know that I have not lost your favor. Do not saddle me with some young innocent and send me away, I beg of you!” He caught up the king's hand and kissed it passionately.
“What?
Ye want my grandson's custody, too?” the king said.
Ye want my grandson's custody, too?” the king said.
“Too?”
Piers St. Denis repeated.
Piers St. Denis repeated.
“Aye. Yer the second to ask me for the bairn. The earl of Bartram came to me just the other day with the same request, Piers.”
“Surely you would not give the boy to
that
man, my dear lord?” Piers St. Denis felt his pique fading away as his sense of survival and strong ambition took center stage.
that
man, my dear lord?” Piers St. Denis felt his pique fading away as his sense of survival and strong ambition took center stage.
“He hae served me well,” the king noted, “and 'twould be a fine retirement present
if
I decide to remove my grandson from his mother's care, and I hae not yet made that decision, my sweet laddie. Dinna fret now. I will gie ye something verra nice to make up for yer loss.”
if
I decide to remove my grandson from his mother's care, and I hae not yet made that decision, my sweet laddie. Dinna fret now. I will gie ye something verra nice to make up for yer loss.”
“What has St. Denis lost, my liege?” George Villiers asked, coming into the king's bedchamber.
“Lady Lindley,” the king replied.
“Why, sire, he never had her in the first place,” Villiers chuckled. “ 'Twas a question of a rather mangy cat looking at a beauteous queen.”
The king chortled. He simply couldn't help it. The queen was also helpless to her mirth and giggled, to the marquis's discomfort.
“Yer a bad boy, Steenie, to tease poor Piers so,” the king scolded him, halfheartedly. “He hae suffered a great loss.”
“Aye, the loss of Lady Lindley's great fortune!” Villiers mocked his rival, grinning impudently.
The marquis of Hartsfield's hand went to his sword, and then it fell away. To fight in the royal presence was a treasonable offense. “I harbored a great affection for the fair Jasmine,” he said stiffly.
“And a greater affection for her jewels, I'll wager,” Villiers riposted. “When you danced with her tonight you looked not at her, but rather at that incredible necklace of sapphires she was wearing.”
“You would not dare to speak to me outside of the king's hearing in such a manner,” the marquis snarled, “for you know I should avenge my honor, which you are so easily sullying, Villiers.”
“Come, then,” George Villiers challenged, “and let us go outside, my lord. I shall be glad to fight you.”
The king looked genuinely distressed, and the queen, alarmed.
“I should not dirty my hands with the likes of you, Villiers. A marquis of Hartsfield does not do battle with a commoner of no standing, such as yourself.” Then he bowed to the king. “With Your Majesty's permission I shall withdraw.”
“Aye, go home and settle yer nerves, Piers, my darling,” the king said. “I'll think on what ye hae asked me.”
The king's gentlemen got him ready for bed, and when he was settled, and they had left the chamber, the queen came and sat by his bedside. “You will not give little Charles Frederick Stuart to Stokes, or St. Denis, will you, Jamie? He should stay with his mother.”
“Aye, and I know it, Annie,” the king told her. “Am I nae called the wisest fool in Christendom?”
“Then why did ye not tell St. Denis that?” she asked.
“Och, Annie, he would only sulk more and niggle at me over it. Ye were right. I should hae nae gien him the opportunity to court Lady Lindley, especially after she had agreed to wed wi Jemmie Leslie. I but raised his hopes, then I went and made it worse by sending Jemmie off to Scotland, which distressed Jasmine. He was seriously embarrassed this evening when Lady Lindley said so loudly and so publicly that she would nae hae him for her husband.”
“He deserved it,” the queen said. “I saw him from across the hall mauling her in an alcove. Jasmine was not pleased by his quite boorish attentions, Jamie.”
“Ahh, so that is what set her off,” the king observed. “Well, 'tis water 'neath the bridge now, Annie. Dinna fear. I dinna intend taking our grandson from his mam and Glenkirk. They will raise him well. Stokes is a fool with his talk of Lady Lindley's unchaste life; and my sweet Piers underestimates me in that he thinks I dinna realize that he wants our grandson to revenge himself on Jasmine. He also thinks the bairn will gie him power here at court and over us.” The king laughed, and then he said, “Perhaps he foretold his own future tonight, Annie. I believe I am grown verra tired of being torn between him and Steenie. The latter is far more biddable, do ye nae think? He was wicked to tease Piers so unmercifully. Piers doesna hae a sense of humor where he, himself, is concerned.”
“Then you
do
intend to send St. Denis away!” Queen Anne could scarcely keep the excitement from her voice.
do
intend to send St. Denis away!” Queen Anne could scarcely keep the excitement from her voice.
James Stuart nodded. “I am growing old, Annie. I want an absence of strife in my life. 'Tis nae an easy thing to be a king. I hae no Parliament to irritate me right now. There is peace wi Spain and France. True, the Puritans and the Scots Presbyterians seek to cause me difficulty, but I believe I hae them well in hand. Bessie and her Frederick seem happy if her letters are to be believed. As for our bairn, Charles, eventually he may make England an king. Not the king our Henry would hae been, God rest his sweet soul, but we hae no other choice, Annie, do we?
“But there are those about me, as there are about all kings, who would make unreasonable demands. Bartram's time is over, and his usefulness to me finished. He must go wi my thanks, and something that will make it appear that he is nae out of favor, just pensioned off. There is nae doubt in my heart and mind that poor Sir Thomas Overbury was murdered, and more than likely the earl and countess of Somerset were behind it. He and his Frances will remain in the Tower and out of my sight for the present. Eventually I will pardon them, but they will be exiled from my court when that day comes. I dinna want to see either of them again.”
The king sighed deeply, sadly. “Ahhh, Annie, I gie my Robbie so much and look how he hae betrayed me. I now see that Piers St. Denis is cut from the same cloth. He is blindly ambitious, and that, I realize, makes him dangerous. We'll find him a good wife, then he must go back to the country estate from whence he came. I need a more amenable laddie about me. Och, I know Steenie is ambitious, too, but his nature is sweeter and more obedient. When he hints at me for a wee something, I feel if I dinna gie it to him, he would still love his old da. He reminds me a wee bit of our puir Henry.”
“Unlike St. Denis,” the queen said meaningfully. “You're a wise old bird, Jamie, to give St. Denis an heiress bride and send him home. You'll have no peace until you do, particularly once Glenkirk returns from Scotland and marries Jasmine.”
“Jemmie will nae stay at court. He hae told me that,” the king said to his wife. “He says he'll spend the autumns and winters at Glenkirk and the spring and summers at his wife's home. There is the young marquis of Westleigh to consider. He needs to be on his holding at least part of the year. And Jemmie wants bairns of his own again.”
“Aye,” the queen replied. “His sons would be almost grown had they not died with their poor mother all those years back. Such a terrible thing, Jamie, and they never caught the murderers, did they?”
The king shook his head in the negative. “God knows them, Annie, and they will face his retribution one day, if they have not already done so. He will render a harsher judgment, I think, for those men who attacked a nunnery and burned it to the ground after having raped and murdered the women and children within. 'Twas a dreadful crime.”
The royal couple were silent a moment, remembering James Leslie's sweet first wife, Isabella Gordon, and their two sons. then the queen arose from her husband's bedside, leaning over to give him a tender kiss.
“Good night, my dear,” she said. “God give you a good rest.” She curtsied to him and backed from the bedchamber. “The king will sleep now,” she told the gentleman of the bedchamber, who remained on duty for the night. “See he is not disturbed except for an emergency.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the gentleman said, opening the door to the king's apartments so the queen might pass through into her own apartment next door. “Good night, madame.”
“Good night,” replied the queen, not looking back as the door shut behind her.
“Young Villiers is waiting for Your Majesty,” said Lady Hamilton, one of her ladies-in-waiting, coming forward to greet the queen. “I put him in your private closet, madame.” She curtsied.
“Very good, Jane. I will see him first, then I wish to prepare for bed. It has been a very long day.” The queen passed through the salon into the privacy of a small, paneled room, where George Villiers was awaiting her. Seated by the fire toasting his toes, he jumped quickly to his feet as she entered, and bowed. “Well, Steenie,” the queen said with a small smile, “St. Denis may be on his way home before long. You will say nothing to the king, however, until it is an absolute fact. He is just as apt to change his mind as not, you know.”
“The secret is safe with me,” George Villiers replied, his heart racing with his impending victory. He would not disappoint the king as his rival had; or Robert Carr, either.
“If you behave yourself,” the queen continued, “and I do mean you must be totally loyal to His Majesty, and a total model of decorum; you could be a viscount by Christmas, Steenie. And after that, who knows? The earl of Rutland and his daughter will be very pleased to see you advancing yourself, eh?” The queen smiled coyly.
“I would one day be greater than Rutland,” George Villiers said. His dark eyes danced, and his handsome face bore an intense look.
Queen Anne laughed. “How bad you are, Steenie, for all you look like an angel. I suspect if you continue to play the game as well as you have so far, that one day you may indeed rise higher than the earl of Rutland. So high, in fact, that it will appear as if you did him a great favor to marry his daughter at all,” the queen finished.
“Nay, madame, I should marry Kate one day even if she were not possessed of a great fortune,” George Villiers declared.
“But how fortunate it is for you, my dear Steenie, that she is possessed of a great fortune,” the queen remarked knowingly.
George Villiers grinned. “Aye, madame, it is, isn't it?”
And they both laughed.
Chapter
11
11
“S
he has refused me! Most publicly! I am a laughingstock at court, Kipp! The bitch must be punished for her temerity, and, by God, I will see her pain!” The marquis of Hartsfield tore off his coat, flinging it across the room, and taking the large silver goblet of wine his brother offered him, gulped it.
he has refused me! Most publicly! I am a laughingstock at court, Kipp! The bitch must be punished for her temerity, and, by God, I will see her pain!” The marquis of Hartsfield tore off his coat, flinging it across the room, and taking the large silver goblet of wine his brother offered him, gulped it.
“You knew the chance that she would have you over Glenkirk was slight,” Kipp St. Denis reminded his brother. “Oh, I know you said you would win, but dammit, Piers, you had to know there was next to no chance she would change her mind. You are no fool, brother. Now tell me what the king said.”
“He said he would find me a rich young wife, or rather the queen said it. There's another bitch, Kipp. Hand in glove with Villiers, if I don't miss my guess.”
“A wealthy wife, handpicked by the king, is no shabby gift, little brother,” Kipp attempted to soothe his sibling. “Think of the fun we'll have with her, eh?”
Piers St. Denis gulped down the contents of his goblet and handed it to Kipp for a refill. “Fun with some wellborn, and no doubt pious, virgin? One night, and she'll be beaten, Kipp. Where is the fun in that? Jasmine Lindley would have been a challenge to break because she has fire, passion, and experience. No virgin can compete with such a woman.”
“You cannot refuse the king's choice of a wife for you, Piers,” his brother warned him. “Whoever she is she'll be good for getting your heir on, if nothing else. We will have plenty of other women to amuse ourselves with, as we always have.”
“I asked the king for her son,” the marquis of Hartsfield told his brother. “I told him if he wanted to make me happy, and I could not have Jasmine, I wanted her son to nurture.”
“You are mad!” Kipp exclaimed, astounded by his sibling's boldness.
“Nay! If I have the boy, I have power over Jasmine even if she won't marry me. Her weakness is her children, Kipp. She will have to do what I want to protect her child even if she is Glenkirk's wife. I shall openly make the bitch my mistress and destroy that marriage she so desires.
And,
as guardian of the king's only grandchild, albeit born on the wrong side of the blanket, I will have a certain power over James Stuart, too.” His bright blue eyes gleamed wickedly in anticipation of his victory.
And,
as guardian of the king's only grandchild, albeit born on the wrong side of the blanket, I will have a certain power over James Stuart, too.” His bright blue eyes gleamed wickedly in anticipation of his victory.
“The king will never give you the duke of Lundy,” Kipp said flatly. “Put it from your mind, Piers, or you will suffer another embarrassing disappointment, I fear.”
“The earl of Bartram has asked for the boy, too,” the marquis told his surprised brother.
“And did the king tell him no?” Kipp St. Denis refilled his brother's goblet a second time.
“The king has not made up his mind,” the marquis replied, sipping thoughtfully now at his wine. “Perhaps we should help him to make up his mind, Kipp, and at the same time checkmate the Leslies of Glenkirk.”
“How?”
Kipp St. Denis was beginning to be interested in what his brother had to say. If it was possible to snatch a victory from his brother's defeat, why not?
Kipp St. Denis was beginning to be interested in what his brother had to say. If it was possible to snatch a victory from his brother's defeat, why not?
“What if Bartram were murdered, and the suspicion for his demise fell upon James Leslie and his new wife?” the marquis said.
“You would take a leaf from Somerset's book then?” his brother said thoughtfully. “It would have to be very well thought out, Piers.”
“Aye, of course,” was the reply, “but do you like my idea? Do you think it possible, Kipp? We could remove both possible guardians for the duke of Lundy in one stroke!”
“That still does not mean that the king would give you the boy,” the practical Kipp said.
“Who else is there, brother?
Who else?”
the marquis exulted.
Who else?”
the marquis exulted.
“Lady Lindley's grandmother, the old countess of Lundy,” Kipp said. “She is the matriarch of her family. One of her sons is the earl of Lynmouth, another Lord Burke of Clearfields. Her son-in-law, the earl of BrocCairn, is the king's own cousin. The king likes that fierce old woman because she flatters him. He could give the child to her or any of her children.”
“She would not live to see the boy grown,” the marquis said. “She is already past her time, and as for her children, the king already has their love and loyalty. He does not need to do anything for them, but he does need to do something for me to recompense me for my public humiliation and my great disappointment.”
“I wonder if you do not think yourself of more importance to the king than you really are, Piers,” his brother considered. “Villiers, your great rival, charms the king with his sweetness and good nature. You, on the other hand, behave like a spoilt child each time you do not get your own way. Up until now the king has chosen to overlook your infantile behavior, but how long will his goodness last? He is not so big a fool as many would believe.
“When Bartram advised against giving you a Crown property, what did you do? You sulked and whined until the king was forced into offering you something of greater value, in this case, a chance to win the hand of Lady Lindley, in order to silence you. He should not have done it, but he didn't know what else to do to make you content again, so he gave both you and Villiers an opportunity.
“Your rival had the good sense to turn the king's offer down graciously, declaring his heart engaged somewhere else, then coyly admitting his passion for the very wealthy Lady Katherine Manners. You, Piers, had no such good sense. Now, having failed to gain the prize offered, you have once again gone into a fit of the sulks. The king will certainly tire of your behavior, especially in light of Villiers's sunnier disposition, brother.”
“Villiers is a low-born opportunist,” the marquis declared, angrily.
“Perhaps,” Kipp replied, “but he has great charm, and the king to my eye is fast falling beneath his spell.”
“Another reason for us to move quickly,” Piers St. Denis asserted. “If I am indeed losing the king's interest, then I had best strike while I have yet the chance of getting what I want. Once I have the duke of Lundy in my possession, let Villiers have the king's attention all to himself. It will no longer matter to me, Kipp. Perhaps I shall cultivate Prince Charles. He is furiously jealous of Villiers, you know, and he is the future, not old king fool. That's it! I shall help to forge a bond between the young Charles and his royal uncle. When the elder becomes king, both shall thank me for it!”
“Now there is a better reason for obtaining custody of the boy,” Kipp said. “His mother is not really important, but the lad! He is real power, little brother!”
“We are in agreement then?”
“Aye!”
“Then let us consider how best to murder the earl of Bartram, while placing the blame on the Leslies of Glenkirk, Kipp.”
“Lady Lindley should be advised that the earl of Bartram is seeking to take her child from her,” Kipp suggested.
“Yesss!” the marquis enthused, “and either she or Glenkirk, or possibly both of them, should face down Bartram publicly. Then when he is found dead under suspicious circumstances, the suspicion will naturally fall upon the Leslies of Glenkirk. The king shall be encouraged to remove his grandson from such unwholesome people, and
voilà ! I win!
Even if Glenkirk and Jasmine are not charged with the death of Richard Stokes, the suspicion alone should do them in even as it did in Somerset and his vindictive wife.”
voilà ! I win!
Even if Glenkirk and Jasmine are not charged with the death of Richard Stokes, the suspicion alone should do them in even as it did in Somerset and his vindictive wife.”
“It will take clever planning. How much time do we have?” Kipp asked him. “When is Glenkirk due back from Scotland?”
Piers St. Denis thought a moment. “I don't really know, but he has been gone almost three weeks now. Perhaps in another ten days or more he should return. He was sent on a fool's errand, after all.”
“I shall inquire about the court,” Kipp said. “Discreetly, of course. You will say nothing further about the duke of Lundy lest suspicion in this crime fall on you, Piers. You do understand that, don't you? You cannot brag, even to Villiers, that you will obtain custody of the king's grandson. No one knows but the king, I imagine, and no one else must know.”
Adali had more than doubled the guards watching over Greenwood House and its parklike grounds. Would there ever come a time when his mistress was completely safe, he wondered? Perhaps this Scotland would offer the sanctuary that they sought. He prayed it would be so.
The children had arrived from Queen's Malvern, and but for the absence of James Leslie, Jasmine was happy again. Her two eldest children were much like their father in features, although they both had her dark hair. India, however, had Rowan's golden eyes, while Henry's eyes were her own turquoise. It was her second daughter, Fortune, who seemed to be the swan in the duck's nest. Fortune had bright red-gold hair, which Skye claimed had been the color of her own grandmother's hair. As the child had Skye's blue-green eyes, Jasmine had to assume her coloring came from her Celtic ancestors; and indeed she was very much like the children who had played in MacGuire's Ford, the village on Jasmine's Irish estates, and little like her elder siblings.
As for baby Charles Frederick Stuart, he was every bit a Stuart, with his auburn curls and amber eyes so like his grandfather's, the king's. Almost three, he visited the court with his brother and sisters dressed in a satin suit of orange tawny with wide collar of delicate Irish lace. He carried a miniature sword with a gold hilt decorated with tiny emeralds and topaz that had been made just for him. Sweeping off his soft-brimmed hat with its three white plumes, he bowed to the king and queen while his proud mama looked on, well pleased by her smallest child's exquisite manners. Manners, Jasmine knew, she had not instilled in her baby. She silently thanked her grandmother.
Behind the tiny duke of Lundy, who by virtue of his seniority in rank led his siblings, came Henry Lindley, marquis of Westleigh; followed by his sisters, Lady India and Lady Fortune Lindley. The young marquis was dressed like his little brother, but his suit was turquoise blue satin, his custom-made sword studded with diamonds and aquamarines. His sisters were garbed in gowns of pink silk and lavender silk. As their elder brother bowed, they curtsied deeply, rising slowly and very gracefully to the silent approval of the queen and the court ladies, considered matrons.
“We are pleased to see ye once again, my dears,” the king said in kindly tones. Then he beckoned to his grandson. “Come here to me, Charlie-boy,” he said, and when the little boy had clambered within reach of his grandfather, James Stuart lifted him onto his lap, and reaching out drew his son, Prince Charles, into the child's view. “This is yer uncle,” he told Jasmine's smallest son. “Ye are named for him. He is Charles, too. One day, when I am dead, Charlie-boy, this Charles will be yer king, and ye must be loyal to him. Yer a Stuart, laddie, and we Stuarts may fight among ourselves, but we are always loyal to each other in the end.”
“Aye, sire,” the little boy responded. Then he said to the young prince. “Why you look at me?”
“Because you look so much like your father, Charlie-boy. Your father was my big brother, like Henry is your big brother,” the prince said. His eyes were filled with tears.
Charles Frederick Stuart, the duke of Lundy, reached up with a small hand and brushed a tear from Prince Charles's cheek. “No cry,” he said in his baby voice. “No cry, Unca.”
The king pulled out a silk handkerchief and blew his own nose, while those nearest the throne who had heard the full exchange sniffled audibly. The queen struggled to hold back her own tears.
“Play ball?” The child looked hopefully up again at his uncle.
Then to the amazement of those in the hall, Prince Charles smiled, a rare occurrence indeed and, lifting the child from his father's lap, took him by the hand. “Aye, I like to play ball,” he said. “Let's go out into the court, my lord duke.” He looked to the nearest footman. “Fetch us a ball, man,” he said, and then hand in hand the two Charles Stuarts walked from the hall, chatting as if they had always known each other quite well.
“He's a braw little laddie, madame,” the king said to Jasmine. “All yer bairns are fine laddies and lassies.”
“I thank Your Majesty for your kindness to my children, and in particular for the favor you have shown the duke of Lundy,” Jasmine said genuinely. Then she curtsied to the royal couple and, with her three older children, withdrew from the royal presence.
“Nicely done, my dearie,” George Villiers said, coming up to them shortly thereafter. “You've raised some fine kits for such a wily vixen,” he said with a mischievous grin.
Jasmine laughed and introduced her children to Villiers. “The gentleman will soon reign as the king's sole favorite,” she told them afterward. “It cannot hurt to have his friendship, but he warned he is not as sweetly simple as he would like you to believe.”
“He has no title,” her eldest son noted.
“He will eventually,” Jasmine said. “The king will reward him lavishly, and young Villiers has his eyes on an heiress of excellent family. He will have to be of equal rank with her father, or even higher before she is allowed to marry him, but he will be, I have not a doubt.”
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