“Ahhhhhhh!” he groaned. “You are delicious, madame.” They lay entwined for a time, and then he pulled himself up, settling the pillows beneath him. Drawing her into his embrace between his legs, his hands reached out to cup her faintly rounded belly.
The warmth of his hands was incredible. He was cradling their unborn child between his big hands. God, how safe she felt! How comforted the baby must be with his father’s hands protecting him so tenderly. Jasmine fell asleep, enfolded by her husband’s great love; and even more certain now than she had been earlier in the day, that she had at last come home. She would no longer have to run, or be a wanderer upon the face of this earth.Glenkirk was home. For now. Forever!
Chapter Fourteen
By midmorning of the following day the earl of Glenkirk’s family was pouring into the castle to meet Jasmine. His paternal uncles, James the Master of Hay, and his wife, Ailis; Adam and his wife, Fiona; Michael of Leslie Brae with his Isabelle. The old earl of Sithean came with his women. And, of course, James Leslie’s siblings. His sister, Bess, and her husband, Henry Gordon. His two brothers, Colin, the Master of Greyhaven with his wife, Euphemia Hay; and Robert of Briarmere Moor, who was married to Euphemia’s sister, Flora. Jemmie’s sister, Amanda, was married to the earl of Sithean’s heir; and his sister, Morag, was the wife of young Malcom Gordon. They surrounded the earl of Glenkirk, hugging him, and covering him with happy kisses.
Finally, Fiona Leslie cried, “Enough! Enough! We all know our Jemmie. We hae come to see his bride. Come forward, Jasmine Leslie!” And when Jasmine stood before her, she looked her over with a critical eye, and then smiled broadly. “Welcome to Glenkirk, madame.” Looking at her nephew, she said, “Yer mother would be pleased, and yer choice …”
“Fiona!”her husband warned.
Fiona Leslie glared at her husband. “I was only going to say Jemmie’s choice appeared to be as fine a one as his mother made all those years ago.” Then she smiled sweetly.
There was relieved laughter. Fiona Leslie had been her sister-in-law’s best friend when they had grown up although their earlier relationship had been a rocky one. She was an outspoken woman, and they all knew she had thought Isabelle Gordon a sweet ninny; but since the unfortunate girl’s brother was married to Jemmie’s sister, no criticism of her would be tolerated publicly.
“I’m glad that I meet with your approval, madame,” Jasmine replied, her eyes twinkling mischievously at Fiona, whom she immediately liked. Despite the difference in their ages, they were going to be friends.
“Ye’d meet with Cat’s approval, and that’s more important. Yer already breeding, I’m told,” Fiona said. “Well, ye hae plenty of family about when the bairn is born. Is yer mother back from England yet?”
Jasmine shook her head. “Not yet. She stayed later this year because she thought Grandmama might be lonely now that my grandfather is gone, but I am sure Grandmama wants nothing more than to send Mama back to Dun Broc as quickly as possible so she may have some peace.”
“Hah!” Fiona chuckled. “Yer grandmama sounds like a woman after my own heart. Yer mother’s a good woman, however, and means well.”
“Who is yer mother?” Bess Gordon asked.
“Why ‘tis the countess of BrocCairn,” Fiona said impatiently to her niece. “Do ye know nothing, Bess?”
“Well, Jemmie hae been in England, and I didna know,” Bess said spiritedly. She turned to Jasmine. “No one tells me anything!”
Adali and Will Todd were passing wine to the assembled guests. “I have not had time yet to staff the castle,” Jasmine explained.
“Ohh, I hope ye’ll bring it back to the way it was when Patrick and Cat and our parents held sway here, James Leslie,” the Master of Hay said wistfully.
“Aye!” Fiona enthused. “‘Twas so grand then, Jasmine.” She looked to her brothers-in-law, her nieces, and her nephews. “Ye’ll hae to help Jasmine wi all of this. She canna be overtaxed as she now carries the next earl of Glenkirk wi’in her belly.”
“I’m no weakling,” Jasmine protested. “I have four children already, and they are quite strong and healthy.”
“Aye, ye’ve four bairns, but not one of them is a Leslie of Glenkirk,” Fiona said.
“Aunt, give over,” Jemmie interposed. “My wife is not the family’s broodmare. We’re having a child, and lass or laddie, it will be welcome to Glenkirk, but that is not why I married my darling Jasmine. I wed her because I love her, and I have for many years now. I am grateful that she accepted me as her husband. Now let us all celebrate being together again,” the earl of Glenkirk concluded.
“Aye! Aye!” their guests chorused.
Then suddenly there was an uproar toward the rear of the Great Hall. Turning to look, they saw two small boys engaged in a bout of fisticuffs, rolling about on the floor and howling wildly.
“‘Tis Connor!” Morag Gordon said, aghast.
“And Henry!” Jasmine cried, looking to her husband.
The earl of Glenkirk stepped forward and forcibly separated his stepson and his nephew, a hand holding tightly to the collar of each boy, who squirmed and struggled in his grip. “What is going on?” Jemmie Leslie demanded of the two miscreants.
“He said I were a savage and talked funny,” Connor Gordon declared, glowering at his rival.
“You said I was a sissy!” Henry Lindley defended himself. “I was escorting my sisters into the hall, Papa, when we were accosted by this boy. He insulted India and Fortune.”
“What, exactly, did he say, Henry, that you felt it necessary to give battle? By the way, this is my nephew, Connor Cordon.”
“He said,” Henry declared in a clear voice, “‘Look at the wee sissy wi the skinny, yellow-eyed wench and the carrot-topped lassie.’ So I hit the little snot-nosed savage. I’ll not have my sisters maligned!” He glared furiously at his antagonist, his turquoise eyes blazing.
