Darling Jasmine. Bertrice Small

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СКАЧАТЬ to mount up, Fergus. We dare not lose the old lady.”

      “There’s only one way off the docks, my lord,” Fergus replied. “Best we wait for her at the entry. Ye don’t want anyone seeing us following her, and there’s too many of her people here.”

      James Leslie nodded, and the two men discreetly led their mounts from the shadows and off the docks. Shortly afterward the coach rolled onto the street of the town, and the earl began his secret pursuit. From Calais they followed the road to Amiens, and then on to Paris. James Leslie was surprised at how intrepid a traveler his quarry was, considering her age. She lingered but a night at any inn, even in Paris, where he almost lost her, for she did not overnight at a public place, but rather at the home of one of her late husband’s relations. Taking the chance that she would not depart before her usual hour the following day, he found a nearby inn where he and Fergus might get a hot meal and a bed.

      “You was right,” Fergus said the next morning as they again picked up the chase.

      “She’s no fool,” the earl replied. “She’s anxious to get there, but she knows she needs her rest, and so do her horses. There’s no real need for haste although she’s certainly not dallying.”

      From Paris to Fontainebleau to Montargis to Orléans to Blois.

      “She is headed for Archambault,” the earl said.

      “We’ve been there before, and yer lady ain’t been there,” Fergus More noted. “Ye don’t think the old lady knows she’s being followed?”

      “We’ve been too careful,” James Leslie decided aloud.

      But they passed by the gates to Archambault, and through the château’s village. Finally, several miles from Archambault, the coach turned off on a narrow side road. James Leslie drew his horse to a stop. A light drizzle was falling, as it had been for the past few days. Silently he signaled with his hand for Fergus More to move forward carefully, so that their mounts were close together.

      “This road can only go one place,” he said softly. “To some sort of dwelling. We will wait and give Madame Skye time to reach her destination.” He drew his cloak about him. It was damnably chilly.

      “I saw a small inn back in the village,” Fergus said hopefully.

      The earl of Glenkirk shook his head. “Nay, I want no word of foreign strangers reaching this place until I have learned what is at the end of this little road. We’ll wait here.”

      Fergus sighed.

      They waited, and after a half an hour the earl deemed it safe for them to move down the narrow track. Several minutes later they rounded a bend, and before them was a small lake. Artfully set upon the shore so that it was surrounded by water on three sides was an exquisite little château. Built of flattened, rough-hewn blocks of reddish gray schist, the château had four polygonal towers crowned with dark slate roofs resembling witches’ caps, one at each corner of the building. Access could only be gained through a tall, well-fortified chatelet, which was flanked by rounded corbeled towers that rose on each side of the entry arch. The earl stopped, enchanted by the beauty before him. He could see a garden on the fourth side of the chateau with low stone walls keeping out the forest that lay beyond. Even in deepest winter it was absolutely lovely.

      “M’lord?” Fergus More spoke low.

      James Leslie signaled silently for them to move forward. The horses’ hooves echoed as they crossed the drawbridge and entered the courtyard, where the great traveling coach was now being unloaded. The servants looked curiously at the two travelers, but two stablelads hurried forward to take their horses, and the earl entered the building, his man behind him.

      “Jesu!” Thistlewood, coming out of the stables where he and his assistant had been seeing to their own horses, said. “That looks like the earl of Glenkirk!”

      “I thought we was being followed once or twice,” said his companion, then staggered with the blow the coachman gave him.

      “Ye daft lad! Why did ye not say something to me then?”

      “I wasn’t certain of it,” the younger man replied, rubbing his head. “It wasn’t until we left Paris, and this is a strange country.”

      Thistlewood shook his head wearily. Well, it wasn’t his business anyway. His old mistress would take care of any trouble that came their way. She always had, and age hadn’t slowed her down like it had the rest of them, he thought ruefully. “Let’s go to the kitchens and get something warm to drink and some food,” he told his assistant.

      Adali saw James Leslie first as he stood in the hallway of the château directing the servants with the luggage. His smooth face indicated immediate surprise, which he quickly masked, but not before the earl had seen it.

      James Leslie smiled wolfishly. “Tell your mistress I am here, Adali,” he ordered the man. “Wait! On second thought take me to your lady. I cannot take the chance that she will evaporate before I have even seen her.”

      “Follow me, my lord,” Jasmine’s most trusted servant said.

      The château had a small hall, to which Adali led the earl and his servant. It was a warm and cheerful room. Madame Skye was seated in a high-backed chair by one of the fireplaces, her boots by her side, a silver goblet in her hand, her stockinged feet to the blaze. Next to her Jasmine sat upon a stool, looking almost girlish, although she was now twenty-five, and the mother of four children. She was wearing her dark hair in a manner he could not remember seeing before. It was braided into a thick plait and twined with red ribbon. His gaze softened a moment, but then hardened with his resolve.

      “The earl of Glenkirk, my princess,” Adali said clearly.

      Jasmine, dowager marchioness of Westleigh, jumped to her feet, turning to face him.

      “You!” she spat angrily.

      “Aye, madame, ’tis I,” James Leslie said with understatement. “You have led me a fine chase, but ’tis over now.”

      “Get out of my house!” Jasmine shouted at him. “You have absolutely no jurisdiction over me. This is France, not England!”

      “I beg to differ, madame. The king of England ordered our marriage two years ago, and the king currently treats with King Louis in the matter of a marriage between Prince Charles and the king’s sister.”

      “King James seeks a Spanish match with the infanta, Doña Maria,” Jasmine snapped. “Even here in my backwater I know that!”

      “Would you like to argue the point with me, madame?” Glenkirk said. “You are the wife chosen for me by King James, and you will wed with me, madame. Remember, I am your children’s guardian.”

      “You are Charles Frederick Stuart’s guardian,” Jasmine replied, “although I do not know why the king felt he needed a guardian at all.”

      “Nay, madame, I am guardian of all your children now,” the earl said with devastating effect. “Your foolish and unruly behavior convinced the king that you were not fit to guide your bairns. I hold the future of not just Charles Frederick Stuart in my hands, but that of young Westleigh, Lady India, and Lady Fortune Lindley as well.”

      “You bastard!” Jasmine said furiously.

      “Nay, СКАЧАТЬ