Darling Jasmine (43 page)
Authors: Bertrice Small
“How kind of him,” Jasmine chimed in smiling. “And what an honor, my lord, to stay in the king's house.”
James Leslie heard the warning in his wife's voice. “Very well, darling Jasmine,” he said. “I but thought only to help the royal steward, who must find housing for the entire court, not to mention many of those who have come down from the Highlands.”
“Your lordship is most thoughtful,” the royal steward replied. “Tell your servants they may sleep in the servants' hall.”
They were directed to the appointed chamber in the south wing. It was very tiny, with a south window and a corner fireplace. Its only piece of furniture was an oaken bedstead.
“Where on earth are we to put the trunks?” Jasmine wailed.
“What an honor to stay in the king's house,” he mocked her.
“It did not occur to me that the king would have such tiny guest chambers,” Jasmine grumbled. Then she said, “If we push the bedstead against the window wall, we can just fit in two small chests of clothes along the opposite wall. There is no place to hang my clothing. Toramalli and Rohana will have to fetch my gowns from Glenkirk House each day, and they can sleep there, too.” She turned and bumped into Red Hugh.
“Sorry, m'lady,” he said.
“Red Hugh, you must stop chasing at my heels,” she scolded him. “It wasn't your fault, dammit! How many times must I say it?”
“I was derelict in my duty, m'lady.” he told her. “If I hae been wi ye that day, that English bugger would nae hae caught ye. Praise God ye were nae harmed, but ye could hae been, and 'twas my fault, for I let ye send me away instead of remaining wi ye. I'll nae do it again!”
“I am safe with my husband,” Jasmine said. “Now go back to Glenkirk House and tell Adali that we will need curtains, linens, and bedding. Then come back with him and show him this chamber. Can you not hear the crowds cheering already? The king has entered Edinburgh. He will soon be here, and my lord and I must be among the first to greet him, Red Hugh. Now go, and after you have shown Adali this room, you may come and find us, and dog my heels once more,” she concluded, gently teasing the big Highlander. He really had been very upset by her brief kidnapping.
They left the palace and, mounting their horses, rode back into the park, mingling with the other Highland families awaiting the royal party. Finally they arrived, all a-horse, the cheers of the Edinburghers filling the air. The king looked a trifle tired with his long journey, but extremely pleased to be in Scotland. Spotting the Leslies of Glenkirk, he leaned over, first to the queen, and then the prince. Then, making eye contact with his cousins, the monarch nodded his greeting, and the queen waved brightly.
The Scots nobility joined in with the English nobility and rode through the park to the palace, where scores of groomsmen were waiting to take their horses. The king had already gone inside with his personal party by the time the Leslies reached the courtyard. They had no sooner dismounted, however, when the earl of Buckingham hurried over to them. He bowed to them with a flourish.
“Steenie, our congratulations,” Jasmine said. “One more step up the ladder, eh?” Then she laughed.
George Villiers raised an amused eyebrow in agreement and kissed Jasmine's hand. “You are ravishing as always, madame. Living in the wilds of Scotland has not diminished your beauty one whit. You are a mother again, I am told. How many is that now, madame, six? And yet you keep your figure.” He eyed her lasciviously, waggling his eyebrows, and then he laughed. “May my sweet Kate be as fortunate.”
“You are not married then yet?” the earl said.
“Her father says I must climb a bit higher,” George Villiers said low. “He fears I shall lose the king's favor if I marry his daughter too soon. He desires that Kate marry higher than an earl.” Villiers lowered his voice even more. “I shall be a marquis next year.” He linked his arms through theirs. “Come now and let us go in. What a lovely place this is. I shall enjoy exploring it, and I am relieved to know we shall not have to travel again for a while. The king has invited you to a private supper in his apartment tonight. The round of state banquets will begin tomorrow, but tonight the king says is for old friends.”
And it was a most intimate party, much to Jasmine's surprise. The great families were left to fend for themselves while the king ate a simple supper of salmon and rabbit pie, surrounded by his immediate family and a few cousins, among whom were the earl of Glenkirk, and his father-in-law of BrocCairn. The queen looked weary, and admitted to it.
“Heaven only knows that I love to ride,” she said, “but I have ridden all the way from England, and my bottom is worn out.” She sipped listlessly at her wine cup.
“We will put a sheepskin on your saddle, madame, like we do in the northeast,” the earl of Glenkirk said with a smile. “You will not want to miss the hunting season, for I know how much you love to hunt, and you will remember how good a season we have here in Scotland. Soon the deer and the grouse will be ripe for the picking, eh?”
The queen favored him with a smile. “I do, indeed, remember hunting in Scotland. Holyrood Palace will not be enough for us once we have rested up. We will want to go to Falklands and into Perthshire as well.”
“Oh sweet Jesu,” Buckingham moaned low. “More traveling.”
The queen ignored him. “Will we get to see our grandson?” she asked Jasmine. “How is little Charlie?”
“He flourishes, madame, and is extremely pleased not to be the baby in the family anymore. He reveals in his role as big brother to Patrick and Adam. When we know exactly when you plan to go to Falklands, we shall send to Glenkirk for the children so you may see them all,” Jasmine concluded.
The next day the round of entertainments began. The king received the heads of the clans, who had come from the Highlands and the borders to greet him. He hunted in the park about the palace, and in the evening he presided over state banquets, and the queen gave several elegant masques in which the English court took part, and the Scots court watched open-mouthed, for the queen had never given anything like these masques when she was their queen alone. The exquisite costumes, the painted and gilded sets that moved, the tinkling music, all was as amazement to them, and they were not certain that they approved such frippery and expensive lavishness.
James Stuart had wanted to come home for sentimental reasons, but he had another agenda as well, which was the de-Puritanization of the Scottish church. As he wanted one Great Britain, a plan defeated by the English themselves, he wanted one state church both in England and in Scotland. Five articles were to be incorporated into the Scottish church that would bring them in line with England's church. They were simple things, such as kneeling at communion and the celebration of Christian holidays, but the Presbyterian element were set firmly against them. The king spoke openly with his Scots courtiers about the five articles. Some of them were violently opposed; and of those in opposition, there were those who considered it just another English intrusion on Scottish nationalism; and others who considered it a throwback to the Roman Catholic Church, which but a hundred years earlier had held sway in Scotland, and of which they had, in the main, rid themselves. Fights broke out to the amusement of the English and the aggravation of the queen.
“Did I not tell you?” she said to her son. “Your father will have his way in this. He has forgotten that the Scots will argue him into the ground unlike the English, who respect his divine right. Observe and learn from this display, Charles.”
After several weeks the king moved on to Falkland Palace, which had been built beneath the Lomond Hills. James had made Falklands over to the queen on their marriage, and they had frequently hunted there. It had been his own mother's favorite palace. The forests around the palace were famous for hunting and filled with game and game birds. It was here that Charles Frederick Stuart celebrated his fifth birthday, in the presence of his royal grandparents. He had arrived dressed as the little Scot he was, in his Hunting Stuart tartan kilt, white silk shirt, and doeskin doublet, with its buttons of silver and stagshorn. Sweeping his feathered black velvet cap from his auburn curls, he bowed first to James, then to Anne, and lastly to his uncle, Prince Charles.
“I am happy to see Yer Majesties looking so braw,” he said, and then, “Ha ye brought me a wee giftie, mayhap?”
“Charlie!”
Jasmine was mortified.
Jasmine was mortified.
The king, however, chuckled indulgently. “Gie over, madame, for he's just a little laddie. What would ye like, Charlie?”
The child thought a moment, and then he said, “Something belonging to him who sired me, so I may always remember him, my liege.”
The king looked astounded, and the queen gave a little gasp. She looked to Jasmine, but Jasmine shook her head, her look equally surprised. The king could not speak, and his mind was benumbed for a long moment. Then Prince Charles stepped forward, and, as he did, he pulled a ring from his finger and handed it to the child. It was gold, and carved into the ruby set into it were the arms of Henry Stuart along with his motto,
Virescit Vulnere Virtus.
Virescit Vulnere Virtus.
“This ring belonged to him who sired you, nephew,” the prince told Charles Frederick Stuart. “Do you know what the motto says, or have you not yet begun your studies.”
“Courage grows strong at a wound,”
the child translated. “I began my studies last year, Your Highness. Thank you.” He bowed.
the child translated. “I began my studies last year, Your Highness. Thank you.” He bowed.
“Very good!” the prince approved. “Someday you will have to come and serve me, nephew.” He looked to Jasmine. “You have done well, madame, and you also, my cousin of Glenkirk. He is a studious, well-mannered child. I most highly approve.” The prince then stepped back next to his father.
The king had now recovered, and he said, “Ye hae been wed two years now, and we nae ever gave ye a wedding gift, James Leslie.”
“Sire, when ye gave me Jasmine, ye gave me the greatest gift any man could have,” the earl of Glenkirk said gallantly.
“Verra pretty, verra pretty indeed,” the king replied, a small smile touching his lips, “but ye must hae a wee giftie of us. Since I canna allow that a man of lesser rank than the duke of Lundy raise my grandson, James Leslie, I am creating ye first duke of Glenkirk. 'Tis a fine gift for ye, and 'twill cost me naught as ye already hae the lands and the castle,” he finished with a chuckle.
“Oh my!” Jasmine said, quite surprised by their elevation in rank.
“Aye, madame, ye married beneath ye, but now I hae righted that too, eh? Yer the duchess of Glenkirk!” the king said, smiling at her.
James Leslie was dumbstruck.
He was the duke of Glenkirk!
My God, how proud his mother would be, and his father, too! He fell to his knees before the king and, taking the royal hands up, kissed them. To his great surprise there were tears in his eyes.
The duke of Glenkirk!
He had never, ever considered such an honor. “Thank ye, Jamie,” he said low, so that only the king heard, and then, louder, “Thank ye, Yer Majesty.” He arose, bowing low as Jasmine, by his side, curtsied.
He was the duke of Glenkirk!
My God, how proud his mother would be, and his father, too! He fell to his knees before the king and, taking the royal hands up, kissed them. To his great surprise there were tears in his eyes.
The duke of Glenkirk!
He had never, ever considered such an honor. “Thank ye, Jamie,” he said low, so that only the king heard, and then, louder, “Thank ye, Yer Majesty.” He arose, bowing low as Jasmine, by his side, curtsied.
And afterward his father-in-law of BrocCairn, and his uncles and brothers gathered about him, congratulating him, and clapping him upon the back. His mind was awhirl. His eldest son, Patrick, would one day be the second duke of Glenkirk, and God willing his line would continue on down through the centuries even as the line of Patrick, the first earl, had descended down from that day when King James IV had made a simple Highland laird an earl.
The Leslies of Glenkirk took their leave of the king at Falklands and returned home several days later. Jasmine could hardly wait to write to her grandmother to tell her of the honor given Jemmie. She had wanted Skye to come to Scotland that summer, but her grandmother had refused, saying that she had enough of travel. Jasmine had missed seeing Skye. Her grandmother was in truth her best friend, and she had so much to share with her.
“I will not miss my English summer again,” she told her husband.
The king and the court returned to England in late autumn. Winter set in. One year ended, and another began. At last the spring came, the snows melting off the bens, and Jasmine traveled south to England and Queen's Malvern with her family. She was very relieved to see that her grandmother, at age seventy-eight, looked hale and hearty as they approached her home. Jasmine jumped from her horse and flew into Skye's open arms.
“Well, well, my darling girl,” Skye said happily, “I am as glad to see you as you are to see me.” She hugged her granddaughter hard and, releasing her, turned to James Leslie. “Come, my lord duke, and give me a kiss. The last duke to kiss me, as I recall, was my most unfortunate fifth husband, God assoil his poor soul.”
“You had five husbands, Mam?” Lady India Lindley, age ten, said incredulously.
“I had six, child, and several charming lovers as well,” Skye told the girl. “I know that you will remember me, India, as naught but an old lady, but once I was as ripe and lovely as your mother.”
“I think that you are still beautiful, Mam,” India said.
Other books
Throw Them All Out by Peter Schweizer
Star Rigger's Way by Jeffrey A. Carver
Un oscuro fin de verano by Inger Wolf
Orphan's Alliance (Jason Wander) by Robert Buettner
Fall From Grace by Eden Crowne
Little Fish by Ware, Kari
The Golden Condom by Jeanne Safer
The Autobiography of Eleanor Roosevelt by Eleanor Roosevelt
MacK Bolan No. 62: Day of Mourning by Don Pendleton
Robin Cook by Mindbend
