“Why should I be forced to the altar?” Sybilla Gordon wailed. “I have not shamed the family behaving like a strumpet.
She has!
And then, bold baggage that she is, she will not even marry the man with whom she has so wantonly sported the night away! Why do you not punish her?” She turned to her stepsister. “I will destroy you when I return to court tomorrow! I will tell all who will listen of your lewd behavior with Lord Leslie! No decent man will ever marry you after that!” Sybilla declared triumphantly, shaking a finger in Jasmine’s face.
“You will say
nothing
of what transpired at your uncle’s house last night,” Skye told the girl sharply. “If you do, Sybilla, I will see that you suffer in ways you cannot even imagine. We are not simply talking of Jasmine’s reputation, but yours and this family’s as well. If, in your childish desire for revenge, you gossip freely, your father and mother, whom you claim to love, will suffer as well. Kempe will certainly withdraw his suit, and no one, Sybilla,
no one
will want you. A scandal such as the one you could cause would not die easily. Therefore, in an effort to protect our family, I should have to
declare that you were mad and have you locked away where your behavior could harm no one ever again. Is that what you truly wish?” Skye looked implacably at Sybilla Gordon, who knew her grandmother was not a woman to make idle threats.
“Well,” Sybilla grumbled, not quite willing to give in yet, “I do not see, Grandmam, why I should have to suffer for Jasmine’s sins.”
Jasmine laughed. “Making love with a man is no sin, as you will learn.”
“Be silent, Jasmine!” Skye said sharply. “
We will deal with you shortly
.” She returned her attention to Sybilla. “Marriage to a man who adores you and can afford to indulge your every silly whim is hardly a punishment, you foolish chit. What is it that you object to in the Earl of Kempe’s character? Is there something about his personal habits that disturbs you? Speak up, girl!” Children today, she thought, were so contrary.
Sybilla thought a moment, but there was nothing about Tom Ashburne that she could actually dislike. He really did love her, and he was wonderfully wealthy, thanks to his skill at picking the most successful trading ventures to finance. He was handsome, and clever, and witty. If she couldn’t have James Leslie, and she certainly did not want him now, Tom Ashburne was certainly an excellent candidate for a husband.
“
Well?
” Skye demanded an answer, and then gave it herself. “You can find nothing wrong with the man, can you?”
“Nay, I cannot,” Sybilla agreed, shaking her head.
“Then you’ll marry him without a fuss?”
“Aye, Grandmam, I will,” Sybilla said, unable to find a reason to continue her protest.
“Good! Now that’s settled, sit down. Jasmine, come here, my darling girl. We have your future to see to as well this day.”
Jasmine arose and came to stand obediently before her grandmother and her stepfather. “I can see to my own future, Grandmama,” she said.
“Nay, my girl, you cannot,” Skye told her firmly. “This is England and not the Mughal’s realm. You may have been born a princess, but here in England you are plain Mistress Jasmine de Marisco, wealthy widow. I have told you over and over since your arrival a year ago that your future lies in a good marriage. Your beauty and your extraordinary fortune make you prey to some very dangerous types. Last night’s episode tells me that you are certainly ready to wed again, and so you shall, my darling girl. So you shall!”
“Jemmie Leslie is no fortune hunter,” Jasmine defended the Earl of Glenkirk. “What is so terribly wrong about what we did, Grandmama? We were lonely. Did you
never
, during any of your widowhoods, comfort yourself with a kind and loving man?”
The remark struck very close to home, Skye thought, uncomfortable. Too close. She and Jasmine’s grandfather had first become lovers when her third husband, Geoffrey Southwood, had died. They had been lovers on and off between two other husbands until finally she had married Adam. Skye straightened her back and glanced at him. His mouth had a faint twitch of amusement to it, but he said nothing.
“We are not speaking about my life, Jasmine,” Skye said sternly. “Granted Lord Leslie is no fortune hunter, but what if you had decided to console yourself with a man who was? You have been protected your entire life, and have no real knowledge, despite your marriage and the contretemps with your brother, of how difficult the world really is. Marriage with Lord Leslie is apparently not a consideration. So, you will marry the Marquess of Westleigh at the end of April, and that is an end to it.”
“Why does she get to have a spring wedding, and I must marry in January?” Sybilla demanded pettishly.
“Because, you silly chit,” her grandmother said, “we must first make certain that your stepsister’s foolishness will not lead to a child.”
“Ohhhh,” Sybilla murmured, her eyes wide, and she cast a quick glance at Jasmine as if seeking to ascertain if she were already enceinte.
“Besides, Sybilla, your betrothed is eager to marry you,” Skye continued. “Winter is a beautiful time for a wedding. I am certain that at least one or two of my weddings were celebrated in winter.”
“
I will not marry the Marquess of Westleigh,
” Jasmine said.
“Why not?” demanded her grandmother.
“I do not love him. Ohhh, Grandmama, I want what you and Grandfather have! I want a deep and abiding love!” Jasmine cried.
The older woman gave a deep sigh. “I detested my first husband, Dom O’Flaherty, and yet two fine sons came of the marriage. I loved Willow’s father and mourned him deeply, but it was not until I met Geoffrey Southwood, your uncle Robin’s father, that I found my first deep and abiding love. My fourth
husband was Niall Burke. I fell in love with him when I was fifteen and promised to another man. Niall was the son of my father’s overlord and came to my wedding as his representative. He claimed
droit de seigneur
of me. Do you know what that is, my darling girl?”
Jasmine shook her head, fascinated. “No, Grandmama, I do not.”
“The overlord may claim a bride’s virginity of her bridegroom, and he must give it. There is no choice. Ahhh, Niall! He was handsome and reckless, and heedless of the consequences of his actions. I loved him well, but he would not have changed; he would have grown old being reckless and heedless. I do not think I could have borne it, but I did not have to, for he died young.” A look of deep sadness passed over Skye’s face as she remembered, but then she brought herself back to the present and said, “My fifth husband was Fabron de Beaumont, the Duc de Beaumont de Jaspre. It was a political alliance I made at Elizabeth Tudor’s behest. Then at last I married your grandfather. He is my second deep and abiding love, and I thank God for the many good years we have had together. Alas, my darling girl, we cannot always have what we want. Not even a princess can have what she desires all the time.
“You learned to love your Jamal Khan. You have told me what a kind and good young man he was. Now you will learn to love Rowan Lindley. You have been so determined to maintain your status as a widow, you have not given the Marquess of Westleigh a fair chance, Jasmine. He offered for you months ago, but your grandfather and I would not even consider it because we knew you needed time to adjust to your new life here in England. After last night I believe you to be quite settled in, my darling girl,” Skye said with a twinkle in her eye, “but there can be no more instances like that one. Rowan Lindley will call on us later today, Jasmine, and you will agree to marry him when he asks.”
“If I promise
never
again to allow my emotions to get the better of me, will you reconsider, Grandmama?” Jasmine begged Skye.
Skye laughed. “Ahh, darling girl! The women in this family cannot promise to restrain their passions. It is beyond them. Now stop looking as if you have been condemned to Tower Green, my darling girl. Like Sybilla, you have a betrothed husband who adores you. Use such knowledge to your advantage and you will be very happy, I promise.”
“You must fetter his soul before you bind your body to his in lovemaking,” Jasmine said softly, but Skye heard her.
“Who said that?” she asked.
“They are lines from the
Kama Sutra
, a book of love,” Jasmine answered.
“They are wise words, my darling girl. You would not be foolish if you lived by them. Now run along and get some rest. You look simply exhausted, and you must be at your best this afternoon. You, too, Sybilla.”
When the two young women had left the library, Adam de Marisco poured four goblets of red wine and, handing them about to his wife, his daughter, and his son-in-law, said, “To Jasmine and Sybilla!”
The goblets were raised and their healths drunk.
Velvet set her wine down. “I know Sybilla will be quite happy with Tom Ashburne no matter her irritation over James Leslie. Tom will get ’round her quickly enough, and she will immediately decide herself in love with him. She is like that, and once she gives him her loyalty, he will have it always, provided he does not play her false. I think it a good thing he is so many years her senior.”
“He is more than twice her age,” Alex fretted.
“Sybilla will be seventeen next month,” Velvet said. “It is late for a first marriage. Besides, Tom Ashburne is only ten years older than Lord Leslie.”
“She needs the stability of an older husband,” Skye agreed. “Some girls are like that. An older husband will be more indulgent and more patient. Sybilla is not easy, Alex.”
“ ’Tis Jasmine I worry over,” Velvet continued. “I know that Rowan Lindley is Tom Ashburne’s cousin, but what do we really know about him, Mama? What kind of a match will this be, and what if she is unhappy?”
Skye smiled. “She will not be unhappy. I know all I need to know about Rowan Lindley. His family is good. He is no fortune hunter. Although he will receive a generous dowry, that dowry comes from us. Jasmine’s wealth remains hers to oversee as she chooses, and he has agreed to that. He’s made for her, Velvet, and what is more, he is man enough to manage a Mughal princess without breaking her spirit.”
“Then we are fortunate, Mama, are we not?” Velvet sipped at her wine. “Will he be kind to her? I wonder. She can be so imperious.”
“He will be kind,” Skye assured her daughter, and then she
told them of how Rowan Lindley had cared so devotedly for his first wife for all the long, tedious years of their tragic marriage.
“There, ye see,” Alex Gordon told his wife. “Do ye really think yer mother would allow Jasmine to marry the man if he were nae a gentleman? Yer mother dotes upon the wench far more than upon any of her other grandchildren. Now, in the matter of Sybilla’s wedding, I’ll nae be beggared by the two of ye wi a lot of shopping. I trust ye understand, madame, and will at least try to obey me in this matter.”
“Are we back to
horses and dogs
after all these years, my lord?” Velvet said. “They may be taught to obey, but a de Marisco cannot. Sibby is your only daughter, and I will not allow her to go to the Earl of Kempe like some cowherd’s offspring! Your purse had best be opened wide to me, my lord, and it had better be full!”
That afternoon both swains came calling at Greenwood House. Sybilla, looking adorable in a rose-pink velvet gown, was at first coy and then haughty by turns. Tom Ashburne quickly had her giggling, and they disappeared into the library together, closing the door behind them.
“Take Lord Lindley and show him the picture gallery,” Skye ordered Jasmine, who had chosen to garb herself in black velvet and was outrageously stunning despite her attempts to look otherwise.
The gallery was a small one with long windows upon one side which faced the river. The walls were hung with the portraits of all of Skye’s husbands and her offspring in various stages of childhood, as well as a painting that had been done of Skye herself when she was the Countess of Lynmouth.
“You certainly do favor your grandmother,” Rowan Lindley remarked when he saw the portrait.
Jasmine smiled, flattered. Next to her father and Rugaiya Begum, she had come to love and admire her grandmother more than any other person she knew. Her mother was sweet, of course, but she seemed much too young to be
her
mother, Jasmine thought. They had become friends, and they would undoubtedly remain friends, but no more than that. Too many years had been lost. But in Skye, Jasmine had come to sense a kindred soul, even if they occasionally disagreed. There was no doubt to anyone in the family that she was her grandmother’s child first and foremost.
Jasmine led the Marquess of Westleigh down the short length of the picture gallery, identifying her relations as her grandmother had identified them to her well over a year ago. When she had finished, she began the return journey along the window wall, stopping suddenly to gaze out upon the snowy lawns and the dark gray river. It was almost dark now, and the wind had begun to whip the trees about.
“It has stopped snowing,” she noted.
“Aye,” he said, and then, “Do you remember I said I would wed you, Jasmine de Marisco?” He stood directly behind her, hemming her in.
“I slept with Lord Leslie last night,” Jasmine told him bluntly.
“I suspected something of the sort when you disappeared from Lord Southwood’s fete,” he replied calmly. “You will not, of course, do anything as naughty again, will you, Jasmine? You will remember that you are to be my wife?” He kissed the top of her head softly.
Jasmine turned about. She was both angry at him and shocked by his attitude, which bordered upon amusement. “
Do you not care that I lay with the Earl of Glenkirk
?” she demanded furiously, looking up into his handsome face. Did she mean nothing to him that he cared so little about her behavior? And why was that thought so irritating? She did not love him. It was unlikely she would ever love him!
Rowan Lindley looked down at her. His golden eyes grew hard and his voice was harsh when he spoke. “
Care?
Aye, madame,
I care!
It infuriates me to know that James Leslie has had you naked and weeping with pleasure beneath him. The picture I can so well imagine burns into my soul like a blazing brand.” His hand reached up, catching her throat, encircling it gently, yet she could feel the power in it. “How many times before did you lie with him, madame?”