Jasmine’s mother and stepfather and half brothers returned in mid-October from England. The countess of BrocCairn brought rather disturbing news. The king, it seemed, had sent to the earl and countess of Glenkirk to invite them to his Christmas court. “I wasn’t there when the messenger came,” Velvet Gordon told her daughter. “We were over at Blackthorne Hall, saying good-bye to Deirdre and John.”
“How strange,” the earl of Glenkirk remarked. “Jamie knew we intended returning north in late summer.”
“Grandmama will have taken care of it,” Jasmine said confidently.
And indeed Skye O’Malley de Marisco, who had hoped for a little peace and quiet now that she had seen Jasmine safely remarried and her youngest daughter and her family returned to Scotland, found herself in the midst of a situation worthy of her younger days. She had sent the king’s messenger back to Winchester, the royal autumn residence, with a note to the king saying that her granddaughter and her husband had already returned to Scotland for the autumn and winter months. Her surprise was great, therefore, when several weeks later the most beautiful young man she had seen since her third husband, Geoffrey Southwood, appeared upon her doorstep and was ushered into her library where she sat reading by her fire. She arose as he came forward.
The young man bowed with great elegance, and once again she was reminded of Geoffrey. “Viscount Villiers at your service, madame.”
“So you are George Villiers,” Skye said. “My granddaughter has nothing but kind things to say about you. Sit down. Will you have wine?” She was already pouring him a goblet of her best as she spoke. Handing it to him, she asked, “To what do I owe the honor of your visit, my lord? Surely you know that Jasmine and Jemmie are at Glenkirk.”
“But why did they go when the king expressly forbade it until the matter of Lord Stokes’s murder was cleared up?” George Villiers said. “The king is furious with them, and that wretched Piers St.Denis is egging His Majesty into issuing a warrant for the earl and countess of Glenkirk. The queen has, sofar, been able to prevent her husband from doing so. She sent me to you to learn if you know of any reason for the Leslie’s disobedience so she may defend them against the marquis of Hartsfield’s accusations. He says they have fled because they know that their guilt in Lord Stokes’s murder will soon be discovered.”
“When did the king order Jasmine and Jemmie to remain in England, my lord? They said nothing of it to me. James Leslie has always been a loyal adherent of the Stuarts. He would not flout the king’s authority under any circumstances. It is not in his nature. Besides, I thought the king was convinced that neither Jasmine nor Jemmie had anything to do with that poor man’s murder,” Skye said.
“St. Denis convinced the king to send a messenger here to Queen’s Malvern before your granddaughter’s marriage, instructing Glenkirk and his bride to remain in England. St.Denis still believes he can still somehow revenge himself on them and obtain the custody of the little duke of Lundy. The king cannot rid himself of St.Denis until a wife is found for him, and the queen cannot bring herself to give St.Denis some innocent young heiress because of his reputation for deviant passion. The queen, I believe, hopes St.Denis will just go away, but of course he will not. And the king is too kindhearted to send him away because he fears he would hurt his friend, and he, himself, would look like an ingrate. So Piers St.Denis remains at court, making difficulties for all,” young Viscount Villiers concluded.
“No messenger came to Queen’s Malvern from the king either before or after my granddaughter’s marriage. In fact it has been a most uneventful summer with one exception. Jasmine is to have a child in late winter,” Skye told George Villiers. “If a messenger had come, the Leslies would have remained here, but none did, and they followed their plans to return to Scotland.”
George Villiers sipped at his wine thoughtfully, pulling himself back to the day that the marquis of Hartsfield had convinced the king to keep the earl and countess of Glenkirk in England. He had offered to carry the king’s missive to one of the royal messengers for dispatch himself, and had hurried off clutching the packet.“But he didn’t deliver it!”the viscount said aloud. He looked to Skye. “St. Denis offered to take the message to one of the royal messengers, madame. Obviously he did not do so, knowing that Jasmine and Jemmie would return north as they had planned. It was his idea to bring them back to court for the Christmas festivities in December, too! He has planned it all, the clever devil, and I underestimated him! I thought we had him beaten! What a fool I am, and Jasmine warned me, too,” Villiers cried despairingly.
“Not so much a fool, my lord,” Skye soothed the young man. “You are not experienced enough in court intrigue to know that a desperate man will resort to rash measures to ensure his survival.” She looked past him to the darkening sky beyond her windows. “It is too late for you to begin your return journey today, George Villiers. You will stay the night, and then tomorrowwewill return to court to explain to the king that his messenger never arrived. We will make no accusations, however, for we have no proof; but you will immediately upon your return seek out the head royal messenger and learn if any of them have left the royal service since last June. If not, you will ask each messenger if he was entrusted with the royal missive. If you are right, then none will admit to it,” Skye told him, “and then you have your proof of St.Denis’s dishonesty, and the vitriol he harbors toward my granddaughter.”
“But what if a messenger has left the royal service since last June?” Villiers asked her.
“Then,” said Skye, “we have no proof against St.Denis. We can plan no further until we know everything we need to know, dear boy, or St.Denis makes a foolish move.”
“Mad as hatter, you are!” Daisy Kelly told her mistress when informed that Skye would be leaving for Winchester in the morning. “Since the master has died, you’ve been your troublesome old self again, and we just ain’t young enough anymore for your wicked ruses!”
“Speak for yourself, you old fool!” Skye snapped at her. “Do you think I can allow this St.Denis fellow to ruin my darling girl’s life? Besides, you aren’t coming to Winchester with me.”
“What?”Daisy squawked indignantly.
“I’m taking Bramwell’s daughter, Nora, with me. I need you to stay here and pack up what we’ll need to spend the winter in Scotland,” Skye said calmly. “Now I won’t need much for tomorrow. Just some traveling clothes and one decent gown for my audience with the king.”
For once in the over sixty years of their association, Daisy was rendered speechless. Muttering beneath her breath, she set about to do her mistress’s bidding, thoroughly disapproving of it all.
In the morning as she bid Skye farewell, she asked, “When do we leave for the north?” Her tone was sharp, and her lips twitched with acute annoyance.
“I’ll want a full day’s rest when I return,” Skye told her, “but the day after that we’ll go. We’ve never been to Scotland, Daisy,” she cajoled her faithful servant. “You’ll get to see Pansy and her family. Don’t you want to see them?”
“Saw me daughter all summer long,” Daisy replied sourly.
“I’ll be back as quickly as possible,” Skye told her, climbing into her big, comfortable traveling coach.
“I don’t doubt it,” Daisy said.
George Villiers was amazed that the coach was able to keep up with him on their journey south, and old Lady de Marisco was an intrepid traveler it appeared. They traveled until dark. She ate a hearty meal, then returned to her bed; up and ready to go first light. They traveled directly from Queen’s Malvern, which was located near Worcester, through Glouster, Swindon, and Andover, directly into Winchester. There had been no need to come near London at all. The king and queen liked to hunt in the autumn in the nearby New Forest.
“They’ll not be in the town itself,” Villiers told Skye, “but in their hunting lodge outside of it. They enjoy the informality of it much better, but it’s a bit hard on the courtiers who don’t have houses here, or aren’t able to rent houses. Many end up sleeping in barns and in haystacks,” he chuckled, “and washing in icy streams.”
“The price of following the court,” Skye said dryly. “Can you find this old lady a place to lay her head, my handsome lad?”
“Madame, you may have my cubicle in the royal lodge,” he said gallantly. “It’s terribly tiny, but you will be able to change your garments and get a decent night’s sleep.”
“If I were twenty years younger, my lad, you wouldn’t have to give up your bed at all, just share it,” she teased him.
“It is the first time I have ever regretted my youth,” he told her, and Skye laughed aloud, delighted by his quick tongue and the charming compliment he had just paid her.
