Sweet Savage Eden (14 page)

He reached out to her. She screamed in fury, stamping a foot, and he laughed. “There is hay in your hair now, mistress. May I remove it for you?”

“No!”

“Come here, for you shall never redress yourself—”

“I don’t trust you!”

“Then don’t trust me. But if you ever wish to return to the house, you need my help.”

“I don’t need—”

“Oh, shut up!”

He dragged her close and she kicked him, but he grunted and pulled the hay from her hair. In a no-nonsense manner he spun her around, set the stomacher straight, and began lacing it into her bodice. In seconds it was properly tied, and he was no more intimate with her than a ladies’ maid might have been. Once again he swirled her around, straightening her skirt, and she tried to walk away from him. “Don’t!”

“Get over here.”

He caught her arm, wrenched her back around, and turned her. Once again, his hands were on her hair. She gritted her teeth, amazed that fingers that could touch with such force could move so surely upon her hair.

“This is a service it seems you have performed many times!” she said gratingly.

“Enough, I suppose.” She tried to move away from him.

“Stand still!” he commanded.

“Oh, I suppose that your mistresses usually do.”

“And you are the unusual mistress.”

“I am not your mistress at all.”

“Ah, more’s the pity. I thought that you had just agreed to the position.”

“Never!”

“You’ll dream about me,” he promised.

“Only in my darkest nightmares!”

“I promise, you will yearn for my touch.”

“I will yearn for your demise upon some heathen Indian spear.”

“There. Now, let me see.”

Without the least gentleness he pushed her from him and spun her about to face him. He critically scanned her hair and costume. “I think that the damage has been repaired.”

“The damage can never be repaired!”

“How rude. After all I have done to repair your appearance.”

“ ’Twas your touch that destroyed it!”

“Ah, but I was not the first to touch! I merely ventured where another man had already explored.”

“Oh!” She raised her hand to slap him, but he laughed and brought her back hard against his chest again.

“Shall I prove to you again that the day will come when you pine for the mere mention of my name? Alas, when we have just taken such pains to assure the demure chastity of your costume!”

“You have proven nothing, except that you are a rude and insolent rodent! Robert is your friend, yet you demean him! You laugh at his intentions, but what of your own? You must take what I would willingly give to him—”

“Fool!” he swore. She had yet to see him so darkly angry, so lacking in control. He shoved her from him and she staggered back. “So be it! Find Robert Maxwell! Give to him what you will. I cannot stop you. I can only warn
you that he has nothing, and that no matter how enamored of you he is, there is nothing at all that he can give you. You dream of marriage. It will never be. Spin your dreams. You are blind, even unto yourself!”

He bowed very low to her, spun about, and left her. Jassy watched him go, her breasts heaving, her teeth grating, her mind in a tempest. “Good riddance!” she swore.

But she was shaking very badly and couldn’t stand. She lowered herself down to the balls of her feet on the floor, trying to draw steady breaths. God! But how she loathed him!

Her fingers flew to her mouth, and she felt that her lips were still swollen from his touch. She still trembled but maintained some vague feeling of burning restlessness within her. She hated him with a blinding passion.

But she could not get him out of her mind, and when she slipped back into the hall at last and escaped to the haven of her own small room, it was the searing blaze of his kiss that haunted her, while the soft touch of Robert’s lips faded annoyingly from her memory.

VI
   

J
assy expected the summons that came from her brother the next day.

Henry never forgot that he was Duke of Somerfield, especially when he dealt with her. He did not speak with her casually, and when he passed her in the hall he expected a submissive curtsy from her. Like a feudal lord, he wanted those under his roof to be under his strict domination.

“Jane tells me that you serve her well.”

“Then I am glad,” she said, and she winced as she added, “Your Grace.”

“I am not a cruel man, Jasmine.”

“No, milord. Pray, tell me, have I indicated that you were?”

He shook his head, and she wondered if their father had looked like him when he had first seduced her mother, tall and very golden, and certainly splendid in his brocade and silk.

Henry walked to the window and looked out on the great curving drive before the Hall. “Let me give you a history lesson, little sister. In the late 1400s, men suspected that Richard III slew his own nephews, mere boys, in the Tower. In the next century Queen Mary had executed her legitimate cousin, Lady Jane Grey, for
seizure of her throne, and for refusing to accept her Popish faith. Later, our great lady, Queen Elizabeth, had her cousin Mary Queen of Scots slain for plots against the throne. The Wars of the Roses were great, fratricidal battles. But then, you do know your history, don’t you? Jane tells me that it seems your education was well taken in hand.”

“Yes, I know my history,” Jassy said.

“Then you will understand that blood ties mean little in this world, especially when that blood tie is tarnished by the stain of your bastardy. I have done the best that I can for you. You are not a true member of this family, and you will not participate in events of importance as if you were. Jane likes you; Elizabeth dotes upon you. But I find you a fortune-digging little temptress like your mother, and you will not step upon my back to secure your fortune. You are my wife’s serving girl, and nothing more. You will not attend the ball. Lenore will find her husband then, and you will not interfere.”

Jassy locked her teeth and lifted her chin. “Your Grace, how could I, a bastard, possibly interfere?”

He returned to his desk and picked up a quill and a parchment of accounts. “You know, Jasmine, exactly how you might interfere. You are like your mother, a woman men lust for. You cause trouble by your very nature. I shall do my best to see that Christian and godly ways are instilled in you. Defy me and you will be beaten. Now, I am busy. You are excused.”

She didn’t leave. She ran to the desk, kneeling down before him. “Your Grace! Elizabeth tells me that the lowliest milkmaid is allowed to attend—”

“But you are not. Go now! You are disturbing me.”

“But your Grace—”

“If you disobey me, ever, I will strip you naked, lay welts upon your back by own hand, and send you back to the slop alley from which you came.”

She rose, and she swore to herself that she would never forgive him. Blood meant nothing to him; it meant nothing to her.

She fled from the room then, terrified that she would
burst into tears. In her room she paced the floor. Robert would come to the ball and Jamie would not. Lenore would find herself in Robert’s arms, and it would be right, and it would be perfect, and the honorable thing would be for them to marry.

No! It wasn’t fair!

She threw herself on top of her bed and stared at the ceiling. She should be grateful for her comfort and seek no more! she told herself. But Henry’s words gnawed at her. She was living by the grace of another, and it was frightening. If she offended him now, two years from now or five years now, he would send her back out into the streets. Back to abject poverty.

There had to be a way.

Kathryn came to summon her again; Jane needed her services. Jassy swallowed down her hatred for her brother and went to serve his wife. Jane dictated her letters, many of which were to stockholders in the Virginia Company. Jane, like her father and brother, had invested heavily with the Company, and with a similar venture, the Bermuda Company. When they were done with the correspondence, Jane sighed and leaned back on her bed. “I feel so weary so quickly. And so fat! Like a house.”

“Milady, one can barely tell that you are with child.”

“You are a diplomat, along with your other talents!” Jane laughed. “And smart,” she added softly. She indicated the pile of correspondence. “Tell me, what do you think of this venture?” she asked.

“Milady?”

Jane laughed. “The Virginia Company. Jamie is so enthused. There have been many failures, but now, you see, I am determined to invest in my brother. The company travails for lack of organization. The leaders quibble with one another. Still, much has happened since 1606. Jamie tells me that there are many families in Jamestown. And in the various hundreds on the James. I think that Jamie will make us all prosper with that new land of his.”

“I’m sure he shall,” Jassy said politely. Her fingers tightened around her quill.

“He is an adventurer, Jamie is. He loves the wind and the sea and faraway lands. Though truly the manor he has built is amazing. Oh, well, perhaps he will settle down now with Lenore, and she will convince him to remain at home. I don’t know. Perhaps it would be a bad match. He is determined to go where and when he pleases, and Lenore is no wanderer.” She shrugged. “It is between the two of them. And Henry, of course, but he is quite determined that Lenore will be married this year. She must make her choice.”

“And what if she chooses Robert Maxwell?” Jassy could not help but ask.

“Oh, then I can see it all very easily. They are both frivolous flirts, and they shall have to take great care that they learn some sense of responsibility!”

Jassy hesitated. “And what of you?” she queried softly. “How do you and Henry manage?”

Jane smiled slowly. “Well enough. You find him cruel, I’m certain, but you must remember that he was always taught that he would be the duke, ‘His Grace,’ and that he was very nobly born. Jassy, it is true, most men would not even allow you in their house.”

“I am a burden to him. Perhaps, if he allowed me to go to the ball, I would no longer have to be a burden.”

Jane laughed. “He wants Lenore married. When that has come about, you shall see, he will discover that you are worthy of his attention. There will always be another ball. And in time I’m certain that Henry will decide upon a proper match for you, perhaps with a prospering merchant.” She smiled and winced. “Jassy, if you’ll forgive me, I’m getting a terrible headache.”

Jassy leapt to her feet. “If you’ve some mineral water, perhaps I could help. My mother used to get such headaches.”

Jane arched a brow but directed Jassy to her dressing table and the mineral water. Jassy came behind Jane and dampened her fingers and set them gently upon Jane’s temple. She began to move them in a lulling
motion, and after several moments Jane sighed contentedly. “You are marvelous, a gift from God!” Jane proclaimed. Jassy demurred, but in a few minutes Jane was sleeping. Jassy slipped quietly from the room.

She left the house and came out to the stables and asked one of the grooms to saddle Mary for her. While she waited, Elizabeth came down and decided to ride with her. Elizabeth laughed and chatted about the ball—she loved to prepare things! And, of course, before the ball they would fast for Lent, and then celebrate Easter; there would be much for everyone to do.

Jassy brooded and listened just vaguely. She did not pay attention to their path but allowed Elizabeth to lead. Then suddenly she reined in, for they had followed an unfamiliar trail and had come to a new and gleaming residence grander than any palace Jassy had ever imagined. A high wall encircled numerous cleared acres and groves, and beyond the wall, a whitewashed palace rose against the green of the new spring grass, a tall, imposing structure in brick with symmetrical outbuildings and fascinating turrets and towers. She had once seen Hampton Court as a child; this seemed grander than that royal residence taken from Cardinal Wolsey by Henry VIII.

“What is it?” Jassy said, awed.

Elizabeth laughed. “It is Jamie’s new manor. He has traveled much, you know. The symmetry is from the Italians, or so he told me. The balance is French, but we are Englishmen and Englishwomen here, and so the design is Tudor. It is wonderful, is it not?”