Chapter
3
L
ady Jane Devers looked sidewise at her husband, and whispered in discreet tones, “She has a brown-skinned foreigner for a servant, Shane? We were not told she consorted with such people.”
“If the man holds a position of such importance in the duchess’s household, Jane, then he must be a person worthy of her trust, and the duke’s,” Shane Devers whispered back. “Now shut yer mouth before you destroy William’s chances for this marriage. The girl is quite an heiress.”
“I was an heiress,” came the icy reply.
“Not like this lass,” her husband shot back as they entered the Great Hall. He was a tall man with iron gray hair and dark blue eyes. His face was weathered and ruddy from the outdoors, and his big hands those of a horseman.
His wife was petite with fading blond hair and light blue eyes. Her complexion was yet fair, although her rosy cheeks owed much to the artifice of light rouge which she thought made her appear younger. Her gown was old-fashioned, the bell-shaped ankle length skirt worn over a farthingale with a wasp waist, and a long pointed stomacher. It was deep blue in color, and while of an excellent material, Lady Jane, looking at the duchess’s gown, saw at once she was at a disadvantage. She almost cried with her frustration. Why hadn’t she found out what Lady Leslie would be wearing. But then she had assumed that coming from Scotland, the lady would be no more up on the latest fashions than she was.
Seeing the woman’s scrutiny Jasmine felt a surge of triumph. Lady Jane was obviously already intimidated. Excellent! She had not yet made up her mind about William Devers, but if he was indeed to be her son-in-law, Jasmine felt they were already off on the proper foot with his dominating mother. She smiled graciously. “Welcome to Erne Rock, Sir Shane, Lady Jane, and young William. May I present to you my husband, James Leslie, the duke of Glenkirk; and my daughter, Lady Fortune Mary Lindley.”
Sir Shane bowed to his host and hostess as did his son, while his wife curtsied. Their greetings were acknowledged with a bow and two curtsies in exchange. Then Sir Shane said, “I thank you for having us, yer grace. I’ve always been curious to see the inside of Erne Rock.”
“But I understand your late first wife was a cousin of the Maguire lords of Erne Rock,” Jasmine said sweetly.
“Her kinship was closer to Conor Maguire and his ilk, although the Maguires of Erne Rock shared a great-grandfather with her,” he replied.
“Ahh,” Jasmine intoned. The she smiled at the handsome young man by his father’s side.
“This is my son, and heir, William,” Sir Shane said. His wife poked him with a sharp finger. “And my wife, Lady Jane,” he finished quickly.
“How d’you do, your grace,” Jane Devers said. Then she turned her gaze on Fortune. The girl was much too pretty, and in a rather bold way with that bright red hair. Why she almost looked Irish. “I am pleased to meet you, my dear,” she said in dulcet tones. “My dear stepdaughter is a Mary also.”
“I am not called Mary,” Fortune replied. “I am called Fortune, madame, for my mother considered it good fortune that I was conceived the very night before my father was murdered.”
Jane Anne Devers caught her breath in sharply. Had the girl no sense of delicacy using a word like
conceived?
Then she caught herself, saying, “Fortune is a unique name, my dear, but if it is what you are used to being called, then we shall call you that.”
“I think it’s a wonderful name,” William Devers said, and then catching Fortune’s hand up in his he kissed it. “Your servant, my lady Fortune.” He looked up at her, his light blue eyes assessing her, and smiled winningly, showing a row of even white teeth.
“Sir,” she answered, assessing him as openly. Blue eyes, and chestnut brown hair with just a hint of gold in it. He was taller than she was which pleased her for she knew she was tall for a girl. His face and his hands were tanned which meant he spent a good deal of time in the open air. He seemed to be well formed and well made.
“I trust I meet with your approval, my lady,” he murmured softly so that only she might hear his words.
“You make a good first impression, sir,” she told him.
William Devers laughed. He didn’t like shy or prissy women, and had been expecting just that sort of creature. That Fortune Lindley was neither pleased him. It was far more fun to tame a wildcat than to be given a sweet kitten for a pet; and as father had always told him, a wife was a pet to be cherished, protected, and trained to her husband’s ways. The training, however, was more fun if the lady in question was a spirited lass, Shane Devers said. Fortune Lindley was obviously a fiery filly.
“Let us have some wine to celebrate our meeting,” Jasmine said. “Adali, please see a cask of the Archambault red is broached. It has been aging for some years now in the cellars, and should be quite excellent. And bring some sweet wafers as well.”
Adali bowed. “Yes, my princess, at once.” Then he hurried out.
“Your serving man,” Jane Devers said, quite unable to contain her curiosity. “He is a foreigner?”
“Adali has been with me since my birth. He is half-Indian, and half-French, madame. India was the land of my birth. If you consider Adali a foreigner, then you must surely consider me one too, for my father was the ruler of all India, Akbar the Grande Mughal; and my mother was an English noblewoman with Irish roots. She was his fortieth and last wife. I came to England, a widow, when I was sixteen. My second husband was Fortune’s father, the marquess of Westleigh, and the duke is my third husband. Our marriage was arranged by King James himself, and our dear Queen Anne, both gone now, God assoil their good souls,” Jasmine finished.
There!
That should give my Lady Jane something to chew upon.
But Jane Devers was not that easily cowed. “Three husbands, gracious! I have always felt one was more than enough, madame. How many children do you have besides dear Fortune?” She smiled again at the young woman.
“Well,” Jasmine pondered, and James Leslie held his breath seeing the mischievous look in her eye. “Three by Lindley, two girls and a boy; three boys and a girl who died by my Jemmie.” She cast her husband a fond look. “And, of course, my son by the late Prince Henry. He was my lover between my second and third husband. A lovely young man, as I recall. Our son, Charlie Stuart, is the duke of Lundy.”
“You bore a bastard?”
Jane Devers was pale with shock.
“Madame!”
Her husband thundered, mortified by her words.
“The Royal Stuarts have always been generous with their favors, haven’t they, Jemmie?” Jasmine said brightly. “Besides, no offspring of a Royal Stuart is considered tainted goods. The king adores his nephew, Lady Jane. Charlie has been welcomed at court since his birth, and treated like any Stuart kin by the royal family. His grandfather was so pleased with his birth—he was the old king’s first grandchild—that he said he would raise my grandfather de Marisco’s earldom to a dukedom the day Charlie inherited it, and so he did. Ah, Adali. Come, Lady Jane, Sir Shane. Here is the wine which comes from the estate of my grandfather de Marisco’s family in France.”
William Devers’s eyes were dancing with his amusement. He did hope his prospective wife would turn out to be as amusing as her mother. He almost laughed when his mother, forgetting her manners, took the silver goblet offered her and gulped a great swallow even before the toast was offered. He had been trying all his life to disconcert her vaunted self-control, but had been unable to do so. Even his elder brother, Kieran, could not openly irritate her. How absolutely delicious that his future mother-in-law should prove so formidable.
“To the children,” Jasmine said, raising her own goblet. “Let us hope this is indeed a match made in heaven.”
“To the children,” Sir Shane and the duke of Glenkirk echoed.
Jane Devers weakly raised her own goblet. She was suddenly quite unsure that Lady Fortune Lindley was the daughter-in-law she wanted. Her own brother had a lovely daughter, Emily Anne Elliot, who would be just perfect for William. Thank God nothing was signed! There was yet time to prevent her darling boy from being entangled in this dreadful misalliance. No amount of money in the world could make up for a daughter-in-law whose mother had so shamelessly born a bastard. Then she gasped, her hand going to her heart as a priest walked into the hall in the company of the Reverend Mr. Samuel Steen.
“Cousin!” Jasmine called. “Come and take wine with us. You also, Samuel Steen. Adali, two more goblets.”
“Cousin?
Shane! She called the priest cousin!” Lady Jane whispered frantically to her husband. “If she is a Protestant, how can she have a Catholic priest for a cousin?”
“I was a Catholic before I wed with you, m’dear,” he reminded her. “Many of these Anglo-Irish families are made up of both Catholics and Protestants. Do not distress yerself, Jane. Everything I see tells me this is the right marriage for our William. Look, he and the girl are getting along quite well. He’ll win her over in no time, m’dear.”
“I am not certain now about this girl. Her mother’s loose morals give me pause for thought. Perhaps Emily Anne would be a better wife for William. What if this Fortune Lindley is like her mama? I shudder to think of the unhappiness she would cause our son.”
“The girl appears lively, I will grant you, but there is nothing wrong with high spirits among the young, Jane,” he answered her.
“Why could she not find a husband in England, or Scotland, Shane? Answer me that! Perhaps she already has a bad reputation that we do not know of, here in our little backwater, and will learn about only when it is too late!” She drained her goblet nervously.
“Adali, more wine for Lady Jane,” Jasmine chirped.
“Show a wee bit of mercy, lass,” James Leslie murmured softly to his wife. “The poor woman hae already been beaten to her knees.”
“This is a mistake,” Jasmine said. “I don’t want my daughter married to
that
woman’s son. You don’t know what I learned this morning.”
“But ye’ll tell me, I’m sure,” the duke chuckled. “Forget about Lady Jane, darling Casmine, and look to yer daughter. She and young William are getting along quite well. This isn’t our decision, it is Fortune’s. She’s going to be twenty years old in a few months, and hae already turned down half-a-dozen perfectly respectable young men in England and in Scotland. Every one of them was titled! If this is the young man who will suit her, then so be it.”
“We shall see what we shall see,” Jasmine responded, but her eye had indeed turned to William Devers and her daughter. He looked nothing like his mother but for his light blue eyes. That in itself boded well, Jasmine decided. He had charm, she could see, but then Fortune would not be dazzled by even the greatest charm. Still, he seemed genuine in his interest towards the girl, and Jemmie was right. Fortune had been uncommonly fussy about choosing a husband. I’ll buy them a house in England, Jasmine decided. There is nothing that says they must live here at Erne Rock. I’m sure young Master Devers would enjoy living in England. Perhaps somewhere near Queen’s Malvern, or by Cadby where Henry makes his seat. I could be certain of seeing them every year, and it would certainly be as simple for me to come to Fortune’s lying-ins as it is with India. Yes! I shall give them a beautiful house in England as a wedding present, along with Maguire’s Ford.
“Ye hae that look in yer eye,” her husband observed. “What are ye about, my darling Jasmine?”
“Nothing,” she murmured back. “I am just deciding that I can possibly have my cake and eat it too, Jemmie.”
“God help us all,” he rejoined.
Jasmine again became the consummate hostess. “Dear Lady Jane,” she said, “you know, of course, our good Samuel Steen. And this is my cousin, Father Cullen Butler.”
“My lady.” The priest bowed politely.
She gave him the barest nod, and then turned her head away.
“And it is good to see you again, Shane Devers,” Cullen Butler said, ignoring the woman’s snub. He knew of her reputation, and was not in the least offended. How it must pain her to have to sit quietly in the same room with him, he thought wickedly. I must give myself a penance for my mean spiritedness, he considered. Three Aves at most.
“Father,” came the greeting from Sir Shane. “I suppose you’ve seen Kieran recently.” It was said almost bitterly.
“I see him,” was the answer. No use rubbing salt into that wound. He wasn’t responsible for Kieran Devers’s decisions, nor was the church.
“The young people seem to be getting on quite well,” the Reverend Steen noted cheerfully.
“Aye,” his companions responded.
“They make a handsome couple, don’t they?” Reverend Steen said.
More murmurs of assent followed this observation.
“There should be more to a good union than just two pretty faces,” Lady Jane said sharply.
“In that I certainly concur,” Jasmine agreed.
“Perhaps,” Cullen Butler said, “Lady Fortune would like to take Master William for a ride about the estate.”
“What a good idea!” Fortune said. Sir Shane seemed pleasant enough, but she did not like Lady Jane for all her sweet speeches. She wanted a chance to be with the handsome William Devers, and see if he pleased her. If there was any spark that might be ignited between them. “Would you like to ride?” she asked him.