“‘Twill be soon enough,” her mistress promised. “I just have one or two little things to do, and then we’ll be off.”
“You’ve got that look in yer eye,” Daisy said. “I haven’t seen that look in twenty years, I haven’t!”
“What look?” Skye feigned innocence.
“Thatlook,” Daisy replied. “His lordship wouldn’t be pleased at all, he wouldn’t. I always knew that once he was gone you’d be up to yer old tricks again, my lady. Now why can’t ye settle back and enjoy the years left to ye with yer grandchildren and great-grandchildren?”
“I’ll outlive you, you nosy old busybody,” Skye said.
“Aye, ye probably will,” Daisy agreed, “and when I’m gone there’ll be none to keep ye in check.”
“I want my bath,” Skye snapped.
Daisy shook her head. “We’re both too old for this,” she said.
“Maybe you are, but I’m not,” her mistress replied. “I’ll not curl up my toes just because I’m an old woman, Daisy Kelly.”
Daisy shook her head again. Perhaps she should have let that slovenly Martha come with her lady this time. Heaven only knew what mischief she was up to and how it would all end.
Chapter Four
“Ma chérie!”Alexandre de Saville, comte de Cher, greeted his sister-in-law with a kiss upon each of her cheeks. “I had not thought to see you again in this life, for I love Archambault and scarcely leave it; and for you it is the same with your beloved Queen’s Malvern.”
“Adam is dead,” Skye said without further preamble, allowing the servants to take her fur-lined and trimmed wool cloak.
“Ahhh,ma pauvre soeur,” the count said, his face collapsing with his sadness. “But he was not ill?”
“He was old, Alexandre,” Skye replied. “Thirteen years older than you, and ten years older than me.”
“When?” The count escorted his guest into a bright salon, where a warm fire burned, and seated her. Almost immediately a servant was at their elbow with wine.
“Twelfth Night,” Skye answered him. “Nay, he was not ill, and he was in the midst of his family. One moment he was laughing at a jest, and the next he was gone. It was quite a shock for us all, and for Adam most of all, I imagine,” she finished with a small touch of humor.
“‘Twas a beautiful death as you describe it,” the count said “God assoil my brother’s good soul.” He bowed his head a moment.
Skye sipped her wine, marveling at the delicacy of the vintage.
His silent prayer over, the count raised his silver head, and looked at his sister-in-law. “It was kind of you to bring us this news personally, but I imagine ‘tis not your only reason for being in France. You have come to take Jasmine and her children back to England, have you not,ma soeur?”
Skye nodded. “‘Tis past time, Alexandre.” Then she went on to explain how Lord Leslie had followed her to Belle Fleurs. “Once he loved her, but now I do not know,” she concluded. “At least he is fond of the children, and that is a beginning, I think.”
“But not enough,” the count observed wisely. “What will you do to help our beautiful Jasmine,ma soeur,for you will do something. Of that I am quite certain.” He chuckled.
Skye laughed. “Am I so transparent in my old age then, Alexandre? You are correct, of course. I do want to help my darling girl. I thought if I can obtain Lord Leslie’s permission, I would bring the children here for a visit, then take them to Paris, and finally home. This way my granddaughter, and her husband-to-be will be forced to renew their friendship and work out their difficulties. Perhaps after I am gone you will invite them to Archambault. A bit of time alone together, and who knows what may transpire.”
“Ahhh,l’amour,” the count agreed. Then he said, “Of course you may bring Jasmine’s children for a visit,chérie.Helene and I would be delighted to have you. We, too, are great-grandparents. Our grandson, Phillippe, the next comte de Cher, has a little son, Antoine, named after my father. He will enjoy his cousins from England.”
“I was saddened to learn of your son’s death,” Skye said.
“These damned religious wars,” Alexandre de Saville replied irritably. “My son, Adam, had nothing to do with any of it, and yet he fell victim to the madness on his way home froma visit to Nantes. His wife, Louise, succumbed of melancholy shortly afterward, poor girl. They had but one child. Phillippe is a good man, however. He married early, and sired Antoine, and his baby sister, Marie, and his wife is again with child. He and Jasmine are of an age. We will let him entertain her, and Lord Leslie, while Helene and I just sit back enjoying the young people. There are certain compensations to old age,chérie,eh?”
“Damned few,” Skye replied, and she laughed. “Where is Helene?” I cannot return to Belle Fleurs without paying my respects.”
“Come with me then,chérie,“ the comte said. “I will take you to her. The damp weather makes her bones ache, and she keeps to her apartments.”
“Where have you been, Grandmama?” Jasmine demanded of Skye on her return to the château. It had been a horrific week. She and James Leslie seemed to have nothing in common but her children, and could not seem to speak to one another unless one of them was involved. It did not bode well, and now Skye had disappeared, sending her granddaughter into a panic.
“I have been to Archambault,” Skye said calmly. She handed her cloak to a servant and settled herself in a chair before the fire, sipping thirstily at the wine handed her. “Well, my lord, have you and Jasmine had a good day?” She beamed toothily at James Leslie, who was seated opposite her, glowering into the flames.
