Darling Jasmine (35 page)
Authors: Bertrice Small
“Let me help you,” Kipp said, coming to his aid.
“Les take a serving wench with us, Kipp, and have some fun,” the marquis muttered. “I like the one over there with the big titties and the big bottom. Looks like a squealer, eh? We can fill 'er at both ends, brother.” He laughed again, collapsing against his sibling.
“Perhaps later, Piers, when you have rested,” Kipp said.
“Wanna whip 'er hard,” the marquis said, “just like I'm going to do to Jasmine. Whip 'em and fuck 'em, eh, Kipp? Thas how to treat a woman. How old's 'er daughter, Kipp? We'll whip 'er, too, and teach 'er how to suck. She's too little to fuck right now, but we can teach 'er other things.”
Kipp helped his brother to his bedchamber and, pulling his doublet and boots off as he had so often done, put him to bed. He had been drugged. Of that Kipp had no doubt. Now it was up to him to decide. Piers was out of control, he knew. The talk of debauching little India Lindley had disgusted him. They had
never
harmed a child, but he knew if his brother said he would do it, he would.
I cannot countenance it,
Kipp thought,
and if I remain, I cannot prevent it. Only by going can I save myself, and mayhap in the end, my brother.
He once again sought out Adali.
never
harmed a child, but he knew if his brother said he would do it, he would.
I cannot countenance it,
Kipp thought,
and if I remain, I cannot prevent it. Only by going can I save myself, and mayhap in the end, my brother.
He once again sought out Adali.
“You drugged Piers's wine,” he said.
“He will sleep until tomorrow afternoon,” Adali said matter-of-factly, not denying it. “You have decided then.”
“Will you see that I am awakened so that I may leave at first light?” Kipp said. “I have such a long journey ahead.”
Adali nodded. “What made you decide?” he asked curious.
“He speaks of seducing and debasing Lady Jasmine's eldest daughter,” Kipp said. “The very idea revolts me. I can no longer be of help to a brother who considers such perversions as brutalizing a child.”
“He will not harm her,” Adali said tightly, “or my mistress, or any of her family. I would kill him myself this night, but that the earl has insisted we resolve this matter within the tenets of the king's law. Best the marquis of Hartsfield be exposed for all to see as the corrupt creature he is, Kipp St. Denis. You are wise to escape him now while you have the opportunity.”
In the hour before dawn Adali himself awakened Kipp, took him to the kitchens, fed him, and gave him a supply of oat cakes, cheese, salted meat, and wine to aid him in his travels. He also instructed him in a shortcut over the mountains known only to the local folk. It would cut two days off his journey south. Then, leading him to the stable, he helped him to saddle his horse.
“I have seen to his shoeing,” he told the surprised Kipp. “You will travel better for it. Do not fear that any of your brother's men will see you leave. Like their master, they will sleep well this day.” He laughed softly as he led the horse from the stables.
Beneath the portcullis Kipp St. Denis mounted his animal. Looking down at Adali, he said, “I am sad, Adali, but I know I have made the right decision, hard as it was. My brother is lost to me.”
“One door closes, another is opened wide,” Adali said wisely. “God watch over you in your travels, Kipp St. Denis.” Then, reaching into his coat, he drew forth a small sealed parchment. “Deliver this to Viscount Villiers, if you will, and your safety is assured.” Then Adali slapped the rump of the horse and watched as Kipp rode forth from Glenkirk Castle. “You have seen nothing,” he said quietly to the man-at-arms on watch.
“Aye, Master Adali,” the soldier replied.
The night faded away, and the day began at Glenkirk as it always did. A messenger was dispatched to the earl informing him of St. Denis's arrival and Adali's success at subverting Kipp, who had obviously, according to Adali, been considering a departure from his brother's service for some time. In midafternoon the marquis of Hartsfield stumbled into the Great Hall, shouting for his brother, for Adali, for someone.
“Ahhh, my lord, you are awake at last,” Adali said coming forth. “Are you hungry? How may I serve you?”
“Where the hell is my brother?” St. Denis demanded.
“Your brother?” Adali looked puzzled. “Is he not with you, my lord? I thought he was always with you.”
“No! He isn't with me, or I wouldn't be asking,” snapped the marquis. “Bring me some wine! My mouth tastes like a whore's cunt!”
“The last I saw of your brother was last night when he put your lordship to bed. This traveling is hard on you, I can see as you are not used to it. Life at court ill prepares one for such travel as yours, my lord.” He poured St. Denis a large goblet of wine and handed it to him. “Your wine, my lord.”
The marquis drained the goblet swiftly. “What time is it?”
“Almost four o'clock of the afternoon,” Adali said cheerfully.
“Where are my men?”
“Like you, my lord, they slept like the dead,” Adali replied.
“Find my brother!” the marquis ordered Adali, who bowed in a servile manner and left the hall. He returned within the half hour to inform Pier St. Denis, “Your brother seems to have left the castle, my lord, for his horse is gone from its place in the stables. It must have been early, for the stablelad did not see him go. I suspect he left during the time when the nightwatch and the daywatch were exchanging places. The nightwatch thinks he saw a rider leave, but he is not certain, and the daywatch saw nothing. I regret I can tell you no more.” Adali bowed.
“If you have harmed him . . .” Piers St. Denis began, but Adali cut him short.
“My lord,” he said angrily, “you are under the protection of the earl of Glenkirk. No one would harm you or yours while you are here. If we wished you harm, you, your brother, and your men would have all been slain in your beds last night, and already buried in a pit upon the ben, even as I speak. No one here has harmed or injured your brother in any way. I do not know where he has gone, or why. Now, my lord, would you like something to eat?”
“He'll be back,” the marquis muttered almost to himself. He felt headachy and out of sorts. He ate alone, served by men servants. There were no women in sight at all. Finally he called to Adali, and said, “I want a woman, dammit! Fetch me that serving wench who was in the hall last night. The red-haired wench with the big tits!”
“I regret, my lord, that we have no whores at Glenkirk for our guests,” Adali replied quietly, his tone firm.
St. Denis stamped from the hall and found his bedchamber. While he did not feel sleepy, he did sleep, awakening again just at dawn. Dressing himself, he returned to the hall. “I will be leaving this morning,” he told Adali. “Have you written down the names of the places the earl and Jasmine might be? And the directions to these places?”
“I have, my lord,” Adali reassured him, serving the marquis himself. There were no other servants in the hall to be seen at all this morning. Adali placed a bowl of oat stirabout before the marquis with a chunk of bread and cheese and a goblet of cider.
When Piers St. Denis had eaten, he took the parchment with the listings and the map from Adali and strode out into the courtyard, where his men stood milling about. “Have any of you seen my brother?” he demanded of them, but they all shook their heads no. His horse was brought, and the marquis mounted it, looking about him. “Where are my men's horses, Adali?”
“We could not stable so many, my lord, and so we sent them up to the high pasture to graze,” was the helpful reply. “It is on your way to Sithean, my lord. If your men carry their saddles and packs up to the meadows on the ben, they can round up their horses, and you will be quickly on your way. To send up for them ourselves would mean the loss of another day for you, and I know that you do not want to lose another day in your search for my master and my mistress.” He smiled.
Piers St. Denis cursed under his breath. He suspected that Adali's polite manner masked a successful effort to thwart him in his pursuit of the earl and countess of Glenkirk. Yet Adali had been very cooperative. There was nothing the marquis of Hartsfield could put his finger on to justify his suspicions even if his instinct told him otherwise. “If my brother should return,” he began, “you will tell him where we have gone, Adali, will you not?”
“Of course, my lord. If you follow my list as I have written it for youâSithean to Greyhaven to Hay House, to Leslie Brae to Briarmere Moor and thus on the Huntley, the stronghold of the GordonsâI will know exactly where you are at all times. I shall be able to send Master St. Denis directly to you when he returns.”
“But what of those places where the games are held?” the marquis asked Adali.
“My lord, you should catch up to my master and mistress long before then. If you do not, I can only say, Inverness, Loch Lomond, or Nairn. I do not know which they shall attend, nor when. You will have to find that out for yourself.”
Piers St. Denis yanked at his horse's head and, without even a simple farewell or thanks, motioned to his men to follow him and rode out of Glenkirk Castle.
“Good riddance!” Will Todd murmured to Adali, coming from the shadows.
“A fool, 'tis true,” Adali said, “but a dangerous fool, Will. What report do you have of Kipp St. Denis? Is he long gone?”
“He is riding like the devil himself is after him,” the old man said. “The watch upon the heights have all reported back. He was off Leslie lands by late yesterday. I believe he will be in Edinburgh wi'in a few days. Master Adam's pigeon will inform us when he reaches the city, and he will see that young St. Denis gets safely over the border into England. Where is the earl now?”
“At Dun Broc visiting his in-laws for a brief time,” Adali replied. “Where he goes next will depend upon our marquis and his patience. If he is clever, he will send parties of men out to check at all the places I have said the earl might be. It would save him time. By denying him his brother, we have removed his only real ally. Those alley rats of his look neither loyal nor resourceful, just greedy.”
“Our clansmen will be watching them every step of the way, Adali. We'll be ahead of them, I promise ye. When do you think we will hear from Jamie Stuart himself?”
“Our messenger must have surely reached the king by now,” Adali said. “And when Kipp St. Denis arrives, the king, who is prone to indecision, will finally, it is hoped, have to do something, Will. Then his decision must be made known in Scotland, and St. Denis caught and held for king's justice.”
“So 'tis cat and mouse until then,” Will noted.
“Aye,” Adali agreed.
“Ahh, 'tis guid to have the earl home again,” Will replied. “ 'Twas verra boring at Glenkirk while he was gone.”
“ 'Tis
nae
boring now,” Adali chuckled.
nae
boring now,” Adali chuckled.
“Aye,” Will said, his weathered face wreathed in smiles. “ 'Tis just like the old days.”
“The old days?” Adali looked puzzled.
“Aye,” Will replied. “When the current earl was but a bairn, and his mother, Mistress Catriona, was loved by her husband, and the earl of Bothwell, and lusted after by the same Jamie Stuart now on the throne. Ahh, what a time we have then, although we clansmen folk weren't meant to know it, but we did. There was comings and goings, and the king wanted the current earl's mother for his mistress, and her husband was lost at sea, and she, so in love wi the earl of Bothwell, who was the king's cousin. They called him the
Uncrowned King of Scotland,
and Jamie Stuart was so afraid of him that he had him put to the horn and accused of witchcraft; but it dinna get him Mistress Cat. She did her duty by the clan, matching her children up, and then she fled to her true love. Those were the days, Adali! These would seem to be verra much like them. The Leslies of Glenkirk are nae a quiet clan.”
Uncrowned King of Scotland,
and Jamie Stuart was so afraid of him that he had him put to the horn and accused of witchcraft; but it dinna get him Mistress Cat. She did her duty by the clan, matching her children up, and then she fled to her true love. Those were the days, Adali! These would seem to be verra much like them. The Leslies of Glenkirk are nae a quiet clan.”
Adali laughed. “So it would seem, Will Todd, but then my mistress has never been what one would call a
biddable lass.
I would say the earl and his wife are more than well matched where trouble is concerned.”
biddable lass.
I would say the earl and his wife are more than well matched where trouble is concerned.”
“Aye, which is all the more reason we'll keep them safe from this Englishman. We have lost one Leslie countess to perfidy, but we will nae lose another, Adali. We'll nae lose another!”
Chapter
17
17
A
dali had not given the marquis of Hartsfield a straight routing. While Sithean lay near to Glenkirk, his next destination of Greyhaven would take him to a distant point, and then back again, and then to another distant point. Not being familiar with the countryside, however, Piers St. Denis did not realize the deception. He missed his brother's company and felt unsafe with these Edinburgh cutthroats. Now he had to deal with them. There was no Kipp to stand between them. Where had he gone?
He should be here looking after me as he promised our father, dammit,
the marquis thought angrily, not considering the possibility his brother was gone for good.
dali had not given the marquis of Hartsfield a straight routing. While Sithean lay near to Glenkirk, his next destination of Greyhaven would take him to a distant point, and then back again, and then to another distant point. Not being familiar with the countryside, however, Piers St. Denis did not realize the deception. He missed his brother's company and felt unsafe with these Edinburgh cutthroats. Now he had to deal with them. There was no Kipp to stand between them. Where had he gone?
He should be here looking after me as he promised our father, dammit,
the marquis thought angrily, not considering the possibility his brother was gone for good.
At Sithean he was again greeted with cordiality by the old earl and his wife. He was well fed and comfortably housed, and his men and horses were nicely cared for, but James Leslie and his wife were not at Sithean. Had they been?
“Oh, aye,” the old earl replied. “ 'Twas several weeks ago now, it was, my lord. Was it nae, my dear?” He turned to his wife.
“Aye,” she replied, dourly.
“A loovely lass, the new countess. Are ye acquainted wi her?” Sithean smiled pleasantly at Piers St. Denis.
“I have a royal warrant for your nephew's arrest, and his wife's as well,” the marquis of Hartsfield said irritably. “Do you not understand that I am on the king's business?”
“Oh, aye, aye,” the old earl said. “How is Jamie Stuart, my lord? He is always getting in some sort of fret and ordering arrests. He was such an unruly and nervous bairn. He doesna love his homeland.”
There is obviously nothing here,
the marquis thought peevishly. “I will be leaving in the morning,” he told his hosts.
the marquis thought peevishly. “I will be leaving in the morning,” he told his hosts.
James and Jasmine Leslie watched their enemy as he departed Sithean. They had come up into the hills above Sithean to A-Cuil. They had traveled without the trappings of their station. Adali had remained to watch over Glenkirk and coordinate their stream of information. Rohana was at the abbey with Mary Todd, Charlie-boy, and wee Patrick. Toramalli had gone with Skye and the children to Dun Broc. Only Fergus More and Red Hugh remained with them, which was providential, as Jasmine did not cook. Fortunately Red Hugh did.
A-Cuil was not a large lodge. Set in the hills above Loch Sithean, it had been constructed of stone, with a slate roof. Its first floor consisted of a tiny parlor and a kitchen. There was a single bedroom beneath the eaves on the second floor. Surrounded by a pine forest and set upon a cliff, A-Cuil had a panoramic view of Glenkirk, Sithean, and the countryside surrounding them. The lodge itself, however, blended into the landscape, and was rarely seen by passersby below. Jasmine liked it here, and even with the presence of Red Hugh and Fergus More, she found it romantic. The valet and the man-at-arms slept in two small loft rooms in the little stable belonging to A-Cuil.
“I could live here forever,” Jasmine told Jemmie.
He laughed. “Where would we put the children, not to mention Adali and the twins, madame?”
“If we lived here we wouldn't have children, or servants,” she replied with what she believed was perfect logic.
“You would learn to cook?”
he teased her. “These dainty beringed fingers would knead bread and peel carrots?” He caught her hands in his and kissed them, nibbling playfully upon her fingertips.
he teased her. “These dainty beringed fingers would knead bread and peel carrots?” He caught her hands in his and kissed them, nibbling playfully upon her fingertips.
“Beast!” She snatched her hands away. “I could learn to cook if I wanted to learn to cook,” she told him.
James Leslie laughed. “Jasmine, my darling Jasmine, you have absolutely no talent for the culinary arts, but where the amatory arts are concerned, now there you are most facile.” He pulled her down into his lap, kissing her mouth and enjoying the breathless flush he brought to her cheeks. Pulling open the ties on her shirt, he slid his hand beneath the silk and fondled a deliciously plump breast.
“I didn't know you peeled carrots,” she murmured, nuzzling his neck, then licking it.
He slid his tongue into her mouth, his thumb and his forefinger twiddling with her nipple. “Ummmmm,” he replied, his mouth working feverishly against hers.
The door to the lodge sprang open, and the earl of Glenkirk almost dumped his wife most unceremoniously onto the floor as Red Hugh, grinning from ear to ear, stomped in with a brace of rabbits.
“Dinner,” he said, swallowing his chortles. “Maybe I should skin 'em out back, my lord.” He moved through into the kitchen.
Jasmine, however, couldn't control her fit of giggles as she laced up her shirt again. “Maybe living here forever isn't such a good idea, Jemmie,” she said. “We don't have much privacy, do we?”
“Nay, we don't,” he grumbled. Dammit, he was hot for her! A-Cuil would be nice for a few days' respite if they were alone, but he really wanted to be home at Glenkirk. His in-laws would have already departed for England and Queen's Malvern; but they would be forced to run from here to there all summer long just because of that damned fool, Piers St. Denis.
“Why don't we go home?” Jasmine said suddenly, as if reading his thoughts.
“To Glenkirk? We can't,” he said.
“Why not?” Jasmine responded. “St. Denis has already been there, and is now off on a fool's chase about the countryside. We are having him watched, and will know when he comes our way again, Jemmie. But I don't want to bring the children home. Not until this matter has been settled. It is easy enough, however, for you and me to flee again if the marquis of Hartsfield comes in our direction once more.”
He considered it and thought that she was right. “We'll spend one more night here, madame,” he told her, “but I shall send Fergus More and Red Hugh back to Glenkirk to advise Adali of our change of plans.”
“Not until after supper,” she chuckled, and he laughed, agreeing.
And when they had had their supper of broiled rabbit, oatcakes, cheese, and cider, they sent Fergus and Red Hugh back to Glenkirk with a message for Adali. Then they sat together on the edge of the hillside, watching the sun set in the west.
Jasmine sighed happily within her husband's embrace. “The sunsets are so different here than in India,” she said. “In India the colors are lush and exotic, but not so vibrant and rich as here in Scotland. I love our Scots sunsets, Jemmie. I love Scotland. I have seen it at its best, and at its worst, and I love it!
It is home!
It is home as no place has been since I left India.”
It is home!
It is home as no place has been since I left India.”
“And yet so different,” he replied.
“Aye,” she said, but did not elaborate further. There was no need for her to do so.
They remained lying in the grass, listening to the small night creatures chirping and singing as the light from the sunset faded, and the skies above them were filled with a plethora of stars. They watched the moon rise.
“ 'Tis a border moon,” Jemmie said softly.
“A border moon?”
Jasmine was puzzled. “What does that mean?”
Jasmine was puzzled. “What does that mean?”
“It's large and full, and 'tis what the border Scots call it. They always went raiding with a border moon to light their way. My stepfather was a borderer. He took my mother raiding with him once.”
“Did she enjoy it?” Jasmine asked.
“Aye,” he admitted.
“I think I would, too,” Jasmine told her husband.
A wildcat, hunting its dinner, shrieked in the forest behind them, and the earl of Glenkirk rose, drawing his wife up with him. “Come,” he said, “let us go to bed, darling Jasmine.”
Together they made certain that the stable door was secure so that the horses would be safe from the marauding beast. They laid the heavy oaken bar across the front door of the lodge and, banking the fires in the parlor and the kitchen, climbed the narrow staircase to their bedchamber. The room was flooded with moonlight. James Leslie threw another log on the fire in the small fireplace near the doorway.
To the left of the doorway was a bank of casement windows. Jasmine opened them a crack. To the right of the door was a small single round window, beneath which was a little table. On the bit of wall space by the fireplace was a mirror, and a chair was set next the hearth. The curtained bed and the clothes chest were the only serious pieces of furniture within the bedchamber. They pulled off their clothing and slipped beneath the coverlet, their bodies immediately intertwined.
He cradled her, his big hand stroking her face. “Have you any idea how much I love you?” he asked her softly.
“At least as much as I love you,” she replied, slipping her arms about him.
He began to kiss her face. Slowly, tenderly. His lips grazed lightly across her cheekbones, brushed her eyelids, skimmed over her forehead, and finally found her lips. The sweet pleasure between their two mouths increased as their passions rose and soared. Her breasts flattened as he pulled her hard against his furred chest.
She was dizzy with his kisses. She ran the tip of her tongue across his sensuous lips teasingly. They parted, and she pushed within the cavity of his warm mouth to play, moaning into his throat, for her breasts felt swollen, and were aching with her desire and becoming irritated rubbing against his chest.
He eased her back slightly, his free hand caressing her bosom. Jasmine's body arched up to meet his touch, and she sighed as her head fell away from his. “Beautiful! Beautiful!” he murmured, and she sighed. His dark head dropped to feast upon her round, silken flesh.
“Ahhh, Jemmie, my love!” she cried softly.
When he finally lifted his head from her breasts, his green-gold eyes passion-glazed, she squirmed away from him, rolling, and then pushing him onto his back. A slow smile lit his handsome face.
“ 'Tis my turn, my lord,” she said softly to him. Then, seated upon her heels, she began to unplait the single braid into which her hair was fashioned. She moved deliberately and meticulously, unwinding the three thick strands until they were completely free of one another, and with her fingers she combed her hair. When it hung again in a single curtain of ebony, Jasmine lowered her head and began to stroke his body with sensuous movements of her long hair. Sometimes she would bend so low that she could kiss and lick at his torso with a hot, little tongue that darted here and there across his body, teasing at him, taunting his navel with its wicked point. Lower and lower she moved until she had grasped his manhood in her hand. Drawing the foreskin back she said, “Is this how I peel a carrot, my lord husband?” Then the tip of her tongue encircled beneath the ruby head of it before she took him into her mouth to suckle upon him.
His body arched beneath her wicked ministrations. His big hand fastened into her dark head, at first encouraging her in her actions, then finally forcing her to break off before he exploded in a frenzy of wild desire. Their eyes met, and her look was so lustfully primitive, her mouth wet with her unsatisfied hunger for him, that he lifted her up and lowered her slowly upon his raging rod, their eyes never breaking off contact. Only when she sheathed him completely did Jasmine's eyes close, and, leaning back, she sighed deeply, contracting her inner love muscles about him, causing him to groan with utter pleasure.
She moved slowly on him and with great deliberation, stoking their fires carefully so they might have greater satisfaction of each other. Finally, however, he rolled her beneath him, never breaking off the contact between them, pushing her legs back so he might drive deeper into her. Her teeth sank into his shoulder as he began to piston her faster and faster. Her rounded nails raked at his back.
“Jemmie! Jemmie!” she gasped. “You're killing me!” Yet he forced her higher up the mountain, and she could already feel the coming wave. Her nails dug deeper into him.
“Bitch!” He slapped her lightly, forcing her arms back so she do him no further damage. His buttocks contracted fiercely as he drove hard into her. His lust for her was uncontrollable. He groaned with frustration, not quite able yet to satisfy them, and desperate to do so. Jasmine was the most exciting woman he had ever known, and he wanted her delight in their conjunction to be every bit as wonderful as his was.
“Ohhhh! Ahhhh!”
The wave was almost there. Stars began to explode behind her eyelids.
“Jemmmmmie!”
The wave had reached her. It burst over her, and she spiraled upward, then down into a swirling eddy of warmth and fulfillment.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!”
The wave was almost there. Stars began to explode behind her eyelids.
“Jemmmmmie!”
The wave had reached her. It burst over her, and she spiraled upward, then down into a swirling eddy of warmth and fulfillment.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!”
“Ah, God! Ahhhhh!
Oh! Oh! Oh!”
he sobbed, his own desire cresting just behind hers. He collapsed atop her, panting. “Jesu, woman, you have nigh killed me!” Then, kissing her, he rolled off of her, clutching her hand in his. “I love you, my darling Jasmine,” he told her, kissing her fingertips passionately.
Oh! Oh! Oh!”
he sobbed, his own desire cresting just behind hers. He collapsed atop her, panting. “Jesu, woman, you have nigh killed me!” Then, kissing her, he rolled off of her, clutching her hand in his. “I love you, my darling Jasmine,” he told her, kissing her fingertips passionately.
“I love you, Jemmie Leslie,” she responded. “Don't you dare get murdered like poor Jamal and Rowan! And no dying suddenly either like my sweet Hal! I absolutely forbid it!”
He laughed low. “You have made your bed with me, madame, and you will have to lie in it for always. I will never leave you, my darling wife. It will take more than that fool, St. Denis, to part us. He has seriously begun to annoy me, disrupting our lives in this manner. I shall probably have to kill him eventually.”
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