George Villiers dashed through the palace, seeking either Jasmine, or James Leslie, not doubting that when he found one, he would find the other. Finally a young page mentioned he had seen the earl and his lady playing cards at some tables that had been set up in one of Whitehall’s interconnecting galleries, with their stone and gold ceilings and wainscots of carved wood representing beautiful figures. Windows lined either side of these galleries, giving the impression that one was out-of-doors.
“‘Tis the one overlooking the lawn and the river,” the child called after George Villiers.
“What now?” Jasmine grumbled, slamming down what she was certain was a winning hand when Villiers found them.
“I’ll tell you as we go along,” Villiers answered them, ushering the pair from the gaming table and back along the corridors to the royal apartments, and he did.
“God’s boots!” swore Glenkirk. “James did something similar years ago to my father. Sent him off when he wanted to create a bit of mischief.” He went no farther than that, for he did not want George Villiers privy to his family’s history. There were very few people left alive who knew that the earl’s mother had once been James Stuart’s secret passion.
“I will go home to Queen’s Malvern,” Jasmine said immediately.
“Nay, madame, you will not,” the earl said. “You must remain and, even as you yourself have said, allow the king to believe you have seriously considered the marquis of Hartsfield as a suitor.”
“If I can be of any help, Lady Lindley,” Villiers said, “you have but to ask me. I have not just the king’s favor, but the queen’s as well,” he told them proudly. “She gave him quite a scolding when he came up with this scheme to offer you a choice of husbands. I think she fears you will disappear again, taking young Charles Frederick Stuart with you, and that she will never see her grandson again.”
Jasmine stopped dead in her tracks. “Sir,” she said quietly, “I have twice run from my country—to save myself the first time and my children the second time. I will not be forced to flee ever again. England is my home, and it is my children’s home. I will not allow anyone to take their birthright from them. You are quite free to repeat my words, if you so choose.” Then she continued onward.
He ran to catch up with her. “Madame,” he said in breathless tones, “I consider your words a confidence. I will not repeat them.”
“We appreciate your friendship, Villiers,” the earl told the young man, smoothing over Jasmine’s rough edges. “You will understand Lady Lindley’s irritation in this matter, I know.”
“Aye, sir, I do,” was the gracious reply.
They had reached the royal apartments and hurried through the doors that opened before them as they went. The queen looked up, smiling encouragingly as they entered. St.Denis, however, had a smirk upon his face that made Jasmine want to slap him. He was obviously quite pleased with himself. They made their obeisance to Their Majesties.
“I would hae ye go up to Edinburgh, Glenkirk,” the king began. “I’ll be wanting to make a visit next year, or the year after.I would know the climate of my welcome. Ye’ll hae to speak wi the old bonnet lairds, the border lords, and of course, the leaders of the kirk. ‘Tis an unofficial exploration ye’ll be making for me, of course. And perhaps ye’ll even hae time to visit yer own holding.”
James Leslie smiled. “I’ll be happy to go investigate the climate in the north for you, my lord,” he said pleasantly. “I do not believe, however, that there will be time to go to Glenkirk and return to England by the fifteenth of June.”
“Yer absence will gie our Piers his chance wi Lady Lindley,” the king continued ingenuously. “Ye hae been taking all of her time, a wee birdlet tells me.”
“When would you have me leave?” the earl asked.
“On the morrow,” was the royal reply. “This is a private visit, Glenkirk. Ye’ll nae hae any trappings of authority.”
“Very wise,” the earl agreed. “My man and I will travel faster alone and create no curiosity that way, sire. I shall, of course, convey your greetings to all I speak with so Scotland may know that you are thinking of her yet, even here in England.”
“Verra good, Jemmie,” the king said, relieved. He had feared an outburst from the earl, but as always James Leslie was behaving like the perfect royal servant; but then he always had, from the time he had replaced his father as earl of Glenkirk and taken responsibility for their clansmen and women. The king didn’t know why he had been worried in the first place. The Leslies respected his divine right, and they had always done so. He didn’t have to worry about their loyalty. His glance went to Jasmine, who was strangely silent. “Now ye’ll hae time to get to know our Piers, madame,” he said.
“As Your Majesty pleases,” she replied, her look noncommittal. Jasmine made him very nervous. He had expected an outraged burst of anger form her that Glenkirk was to be sent off. His wife had made him see the error of hisjudgment in this matter, but a promise was a promise. He had promised Piers a chance with the beautiful and wealthy woman. “There is a masque tonight,” he said weakly. “Ye’ll come wi the marquis, madame.”
“Alas, sire, I have a headache,” she said sweetly, “and then, too, there would be no opportunity for me to create a costume. You know how famed my family are for their costumes.”
“Could ye not wear the garb of yer native land, madame,” the king persisted. “‘Twould be exotic to our eye.”
“Regretfully those garments are packed away at Queen’s Malvern,” Jasmine said.
“Oh,” the king answered. He was disappointed. He well remembered Jasmine’s appearance in a diamond-encrusted garment some years earlier.
“I can send to my grandmother, however,” Jasmine amended, stemming any annoyance on the king’s part. “There will be other masques quite soon, will there not be, madame?” Her query was aimed at the queen, who smiled conspiratorially and nodded in the affirmative.
“Indeed, Jamie, a salute to springtime, in two weeks,” she told her spouse. “I’m certain Lady Lindley can arrange for a suitable costume by then, can you not, my dear.”
“Certainly, Your Majesty,” Jasmine promised.
“Then it is all settled,” the queen continued brightly. “Now, you must go home, my dear, and treat your aching head. Should she not go this minute, Jamie? Poor darling!”
“What will ye treat yerself wi, madame?” the king asked, suspicious.
