“I was going to, tonight, when we were all tucked up in our marital bed, but when that old man started twitting me, now seemed as good a time as any. I wouldn’t want it thought, James Leslie, that you weren’t doing your duty by me.”
“A chair for the countess,” the earl of Sithean called, and his demand was immediately met. “Sit down, me dear,” he invited her. “Yer carrying a most precious burden, ye are. Ye must take a care of yerself, lassie,” he cautioned Jasmine.
“I’ve borne four children already, my lord,” she reassured him.
“Aye, aye, but yer a wee bit longer in the tooth now, lassie,” he said concerned. “Did ye ever miscarry of a bairn?”
“My first,” she told him. “‘Twas the shock of my first husband’s murder that did it. I was fourteen at the time. I’vehad no difficulties since then, my lord, and this child is planted deeply and firmly.”
The old earl smiled. “Aye, he’s a Leslie,” he said.
“Now, tell me, sir,” Jasmine said, “where are the women?”
“They will come tomorrow when yer rested,” Adam Leslie said. “All the aunts and yer sisters-in-law are anxious to meet ye, although when the word reaches them of how fair ye are, they may change their minds,” he teased her. “My Fiona is quite the beauty,” and then he lowered his voice, “but I canna say the same for my brothers’ wives. Once they were pretty creatures as the young always are, but they hae nae stood the test of time verra well, but Jemmie’s sisters are pretty lasses.”
“You are very wicked, aren’t you?” Jasmine said mischievously.
“It comes from living wi my Fiona all these years,” he told her. “When she and Jemmie’s mother were young, they were rivals for a time, but they later became friends. Both were headstrong, difficult lasses, I fear. My Fiona hae softened a bit, and I’ve grown wicked wi age,” he said, chuckling. “Are ye wicked, Jasmine?”
“Sometimes,” she said. “Ye must ask Jemmie. He will tell ye, I am certain. I think being wicked is far more fun than being good, Uncle Adam, don’t you?” Her eyes twinkled.
“Aye,” he agreed with her. “I’m glad ye hae a bit of spunk, lassie. Jemmie’s first wife was a sweet child, but about as exciting as a bowl of oat stirabout. Ye look like a lass wi hot blood in her veins, and that’s just the sort of wife he needs.”
“Are you flirting with my bride, Uncle?” the earl of Glenkirk said.
“Nay, laddie,” Adam Leslie declared. “‘Tis she who is flirting wi me, the pretty vixen. Yer a lucky man, laddie.”
“He’s won my heart because he has grandpapa’s name,” Jasmine replied to her husband. “You know my weakness for men named Adam.”
“Perhaps we’ll name our son Adam,” James Leslie said.
“Nay,” Jasmine said. “Our first son will be called Patrick after that handsome devil over the fireplace. Our second son will be Adam, and the third, James, my lord.”
“God bless me!” the old earl of Sithean chortled. “The wench is ambitious in her desire to gie the clan sons. I fully approve!” He stamped his gnarled cane upon the floor of the hall enthusiastically.
And afterward, when the Leslie men had all departed, and they sat together at the highboard eating a simple repast of broiled trout and toasted cheese and apples, James Leslie said, “You’ve made a grand impression upon my brothers, uncles, and cousins, madame. As for the clansmen, they will be devoted to you forever for the way you accepted their rousing greeting, darling Jasmine.”
“I often watched my father reach out to his subjects when he would pass through their towns. They were so eager to touch the Mughal. It meant so much to them. Today, when your clansmen came to greet us and surrounded us with such a warm welcome, I did what my father did, reaching out to them as they did to us. I suddenly realized, Jemmie, that here in your highlands you are very much like a little king to your people. Perhaps this is why the Scots have always had such difficulty serving a single king when each chieftain is in reality a king himself within his own holding. It is a very heady experience.”
He nodded. “How quick you are to understand us, but no country can survive amid its neighbors without a strong monarch.” He took her hand and began to nibble upon her fingers. “We have not had a moment to talk,” he said, “since you made your momentous announcement. We had no soonergotten rid of my relations when Adali and Will Todd were calling us to the highboard to eat.” He turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her blue-veined wrist. “When do you plan to produce my son, madame?” His look was intense.
“‘Twill be sometime in late winter,” she said. “The very end of February, or in early March. It happened that first night when you returned from your silly little trip to Edinburgh.” She caught his hand and began to suck upon his fingers.
“I don’t want to harm the bairn,” he said desperately.
“We don’t have to worry about it yet, my lord,” she told him. “I can yet ride both my stallions, the two-footed and the four-footed one.” She caressed his face. “I have never wanted a man like this, Jemmie. I desire you always, and it took us so long to come from England. We haven’t been in a proper bed in weeks. Are you not hungry for me, too?”
Reaching out, he cupped her head in his hand, his mouth brushing suggestively against hers. He could see her nipples pushing against the silk of her shirt, and his lust rose up to almost choke him.“Aye!”he managed to grind out, aching to possess her.
“I do not know where to go,” she said intensely.
“I do!”he groaned, pulling her up from her chair and practically dragging her through the Great Hall and its antechamber beyond. They reached the wide staircase and, picking her up, he almost leapt the steps to the floor above, where the apartments of the earl and countess of Glenkirk were located. Kicking the door open, he strode in, still holding her in his arms. Then he set her gently down. “Do not keep me waiting long, madame,” he said intensely.
“Jesu!” Fergus More whispered to Adali. “He was nae this way with Lady Isabelle. I dinna know if I can get used to all the burning looks between them and this intensity. Why they can scarcely keep their hands off one another.”
“Passion between a man and his wife is a good thing,” Adali murmured reassuringly. “Have you never had such feelings for a woman?”
The Scotsman shook his head. “Nay,” he said, “but I’m thinking I might work up to them wi Mistress Toramalli. Sends a shiver down me back, she does,” he admitted. “Do ye think she likes me, Adali?”
