Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

" H er Majesty, the queen," Adali said, ushering Queen Anne into Jasmine's dayroom.

Jasmine arose quickly from her chair by the fire and curtsied low. "You honor me, madame," she said.

"Let me look at you, child," the queen said, as the younger woman came forward. She took Jasmine's face between her thumb and her forefinger, turning it first this way, and then that. "As I thought," Queen Anne finally pronounced. "What a dreadful little fraud you are, my dear, but now you must cease your willfulness. I cannot help you if you will not help yourself. St.Denis has already begun to whine to the king that he has not enough time in which to court you. I have only just managed to prevent the king from doing something very foolish. You will have to let him dance attendance on you for the next few weeks, I'm afraid."

"If only the king …" Jasmine began.

"I know, I know," the queen soothed her. "If only my well-meaning Jamie had not interfered just as you and the earl of Glenkirk had come to a comfortable understanding. He's quite in love with you, you know. You do love him, don't you?"

Jasmine nodded.

"Let us sit down," the queen said, and turning to Adali, she continued, "Do bring us something nice to drink, Adali, won't you?"

Adali bowed. "Of course, Majesty."

They sat together by the fire, and the queen spoke once again. "Both Steenie and I are in agreement. We are your allies in this matter, my dear. And now another element has been added to the brew. The earl of Bartram has suggested to His Majesty that custody of little Charles Frederick Stuart be assigned to him."

"Who is he?" Jasmine asked.

"A protégé of Robert Cecil's who has worked in His Majesty's service for many years. He began his career in the reign of the late queen. He has recently lost favor with my husband thanks to the greed and the jealousy of Piers St.Denis and the foolishness of the countess of Bartram, who is obviously sillier than I am. He seems to believe if he can get the king to grant him the care and custody of our grandson, he will have been restored to our favor. Jamie, of course, has absolutely no intention of any such thing, but you know how softhearted he is. He cannot come right out and say no to poor Lord Stokes. While he will not return him to favor, and indeed will soon dispense with his services altogether, for the man has Puritan leanings; he is yet mindful of the many long and loyal years of service Richard Stokes has rendered the crown. He is seeking a kind way to retire him.

"In the meantime, however, Steenie and I thought we might use Lord Stokes ourselves in a rather clandestine manner, implying to St.Denis that the king is indeed considering transferring the guardianship of your son to Lord Stokes. The marquis will, of course, attempt to learn if it is true from the king, but Jamie will dither about until he has made up his mind how to rid himself of the earl of Bartram in a considerate manner. This will but add to the confusion. St.Denis will not have as much time to court you, which will relieve you of his company. Then, too, he will be desperately trying to decide which is more to his advantage: a rich wife or a powerful connection." The queen's laugh tinkled about the chamber, and she gratefully accepted a silver goblet of fruity wine from Adali. Sipping it, she declared, "You have the best cellar in London, my dear Jasmine! Well, what do you think of our little plot?"

Jasmine was not certain what she thought of the queen's intrigue. She was silent a long moment. Then she said, "I think that you and George Villiers may underestimate the marquis. I think he could be dangerous in certain circumstances. For the moment all he has to contend with is James Leslie, and he has managed to send him away; but if he believes someone else might gain custody of my son …" Jasmine grew silent again, a single finger tapping thoughtfully upon the arm of her chair.

"St. Denis? Dangerous?" Her laughter tinkled once more. "Oh, no, my dear. Piers St.Denis is simply an ambitious young man seeking to better himself, very much like our dear Steenie. In the end you will choose Glenkirk, and we will give him another heiress to wife with our royal blessing. He will then return to his holding and never be heard of again."

"He has suggested to me, madame, that he will remain at court after his marriage," Jasmine told the queen. "I believe Your Majesty's assessment of him to be correct in that he is ambitious. I think he is a man who desires power more than anything else."

"Do you? How interesting," the queen answered vaguely. She had said what she had come to say and, having emptied her mind, was now at a loss. She looked anxiously at Jasmine. "You will cooperate with us, my dear, won't you? You will just slightly encourage St.Denis for a short time? Between us we can keep him quite confused."

"If it pleases you, madame, of course I will cooperate, for I wish for only one thing, to be James Leslie's wife," Jasmine replied.

"Oh, good!" The queen quaffed down the remainder of her wine, and, rising, said, "I must go now, my dear. I am happy to see you looking so well, and I shall, of course, expect you at my masque on Saturday night at Whitehall."

"Madame." Jasmine had arisen, too. "The children will be here in a few days from Queen's Malvern. I thought a good way of keeping St.Denis off guard was to introduce him to my little band of rebels."

"How deliciously ingenious." The queen chuckled. "I suspect that St.Denis will detest the competition of your offspring."

"Aye," Jasmine smiled. "He has already suggested that India and Henry are old enough to be fostered out. Of course, I told him I should not foster out my bairns to strangers."

"Unnatural monster!" the queen pronounced. "Of course not! You know how I feel about fostering children out. You were absolutely correct to say so." Then, kissing Jasmine's cheeks, Queen Anne departed Greenwood House to return to the palace.

Jasmine's next visitor was St.Denis, who once again came bearing a beribboned bouquet. She did what was expected of her. Burying her nose in the colorful flowers, she exclaimed over their lovely fragrance, thinking all the while that St.Denis lacked imagination. He always brought flowers but nothing else, which meant he was either without funds or mean-spirited. She suspected a combination of both.

"The queen has been to visit me," she said brightly. "She came to see how I was and to invite me to her masque on Saturday evening. Will you escort me, my lord?" She gave him a smile.

"What will you wear?" he asked her excitedly. "We must match our costumes, of course!"

"I cannot have a decent costume made in so short a time, my lord," Jasmine told him. "I shall wear a beautiful gown of royal blue silk instead. I shall leave the selection of a mask to carry to you, however. I want the most beautiful mask possible. We must outshine everyone else, eh, my lord?" She smiled again.

He could scarcely believe it. She was being most cooperative, and she was even asking him a small favor. "You shall have the finest mask in London," he promised her. And when he had left her and returned to his own house, he told his brother. "I believe she is beginning to weaken in her resolve to hate me, Kipp. She was so amenable toward me today. The queen had just left her, and I think she may have advised Jasmine to seriously consider my suit. I thought the queen was Villiers's ally, but perhaps I was mistaken. Who makes the best masks in London?"

"A fellow named Barrow, near St.James," Kipp replied.

"You must go to him and order two of his absolute best creations, Kipp. They must be ready for Saturday's masque at the palace," the marquis of Hartsfield said to his half brother.

"They will be horrifically expensive, especially considering how short a time you are allowing the craftsmen," Kipp answered him.

"He will not refuse the king's favorite," Piers St.Denis said with self-assurance. "Besides, when I have married Jasmine Lindley I will be the wealthiest man in England," he concluded with a grin.

" If you wed her," Kipp cautioned him.

"I will marry her!" the marquis insisted. "And on our wedding night you and I will punish her for her arrogance, eh, Kipp?"

"How?" Kipp goaded his sibling.

"We will put her over the correction bar, her legs spread. Then I shall tawse her bottom until it is pink and shining. She will weep fiercely, I have not a doubt. And while I strap her, you will play with her beautiful breasts so that she is caught between pain and pleasure, which I have not a doubt she will soon learn to like. When I deem her ready, I shall have her, still bent over the bar."

"And will you share her, Piers, as you usually do with your women?" his brother asked.

"Not fully, not at first, not until I am bored with her; but I will permit you to take your pleasure within her mouth, Kipp. Together we will teach this proud beauty who is the master. And afterward, in a year or so, when she is well trained, and obedient, we shall allow her to learn this same art of domination we practice. Think of it, Kipp! We shall, the three of us, lure beautiful young maidens and handsome young men into our web of forbidden love. It will be wonderful!"

"I should have known you would have it all planned out," his half brother said admiringly.

The marquis of Hartsfield smiled. "Go and order the masks," he said. "And tell this Barrow fellow there will be an extra payment for his trouble. But I want his best!"

"Naturally," Kipp replied, and hurried off to do his brother's bidding.

Jasmine's gown for the queen's masque was a magnificent creation. Of royal blue silk, the skirt ankle-length, its undergown was of cloth of silver embroidered with sparkling tiny blue stones in a spiral design. The neckline of the gown was quite low and square, with a draped collar of delicate silver lace. The sleeves showed cloth of silver through their slashes, and silver lace cuffs accented her delicate wrists. Her shoes were matching blue silk with silver roses decorating them; and her hair was twisted into an elegant chignon, with a lovelock tied with a silver ribbon over her left ear. From her ears dripped sapphires, and about her neck was Jasmine's famous sapphire necklace.

The marquis of Hartsfield's mouth fell open in admiration when he saw her, his eyes fastening upon the necklace in particular. Wordless, he handed her her mask, an exquisite creation of silver and gold with white feathers.

"They are called the Stars of Kashmir," Jasmine told him, one hand going to her throat. "My first husband, Prince Jamal, gave them to me. The lake where I grew up, upon which our palace was located, is just this shade of blue. There was an additional stone found at the same time these were mined in Ceylon. It was a large teardrop shaped sapphire called the Wular Blue, after that same lake. We gave it to my father upon the celebration of his fiftieth year as emperor." Reaching out with her other hand, she took the mask from him. "It is lovely, my lord, and quite perfect with my gown, do you not agree?"

He nodded, his throat aching, his mind desperate to say something clever that would gain her approval. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he finally managed to croak, realizing how mundane a thing it was he had just said. She knew she was beautiful, and had undoubtedly been told it a thousand times.

"How gallant you are, my lord," she responded graciously. Then, "We will take my barge, with your permission. It is more comfortable than any others in which I have traveled."

"Of course," he agreed, almost drowning in her smile. This was how he had imagined it would be. She with her blue-black hair, pale gold skin, and turquoise eyes. He, tawny-haired, fair-skinned and blue-eyed. They were perfect together! His costume of cream-colored silk, silver and gold, was an ideal foil for her royal blue and silver gown. They looked as if they belonged together, and they did! Taking her arm, he followed the ever-present Adali down to the quay, where the barge was awaiting them. Strangely, he did not mind the servant's company any longer. Adali, in his white clothing and turban, gave them a certain cachet that no one else at court had.

Whitehall was ablaze with lights. They joined the throngs of other courtiers entering the hall where Their Majesties sat. The queen, as always, was overdressed, but a charming and gracious hostess. The king slumped morosely on his throne. He hated his wife's fetes. He would remain for a brief time, then disappear with a few friends to drink whiskey and play at dice. The sight of Jasmine on the arm of the marquis of Hartsfield, however, brought a smile to his sad face, and he beckoned them forward to the foot of his throne. They made their obeisances, and, as she rose, Jasmine saw Prince Charles standing next to his father's chair.

"Ahh, Piers, ye hae brought Lady Lindley at last," the king enthused. "She's a rare beauty, is she nae?"

"Indeed, my liege," the marquis replied. "I am grateful to Your Majesty for this opportunity." St.Denis then bowed to the queen and nodded to the prince.

Jasmine smiled at Prince Charles. He was a small but dignified young man, who, until his brother's death, had stood very much in his shadow. "My lord," she said, "it is very good to see you once again." Then she curtsied low.

A tiny smile touched Charles Stuart's mouth. He was not a young man who showed his emotions, but he did remember his elder brother's mistress with fondness. It had been Jasmine who had taught him how to bandy words with his brilliant older sibling, how to win arguments with Henry, much to the elder's delight, for Henry Stuart had loved his little brother, although until Jasmine had explained her Hal's nature to young Charles, he had not believed it. The heir to England's throne was almost fifteen, and while he was considered prim by his father's court, he was quite fond of music and drama, as was his mother.

"I am h-happy t-to see you again, m-madame," he acknowledged Jasmine. The prince sometimes stuttered because he was basically shy.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Jasmine responded, curtsying prettily. Then she said, "Your namesake will be here in a few days, sir. May I bring the duke of Lundy to see his uncle?"

"Oh, yes, m-madame!" the young man said. "I did not see him when your g-grandmother b-brought him last. I have not seen him since he w-was a bairn."

"He is much like his father," she told the prince with a smile.

"I like children," the prince replied. "I w-would have a b-big family one d-day."

"You must choose the right wife," Jasmine told him.

"I hae an eye on the Spanish infanta," the king said.

"A French princess would be better," the queen murmured. "Jasmine, my dear, come and sit on a footstool by me while we watch the masque. St.Denis, you may stand behind me."

The masque that followed was a salute to springtime and the coming summer. It had not the imagination of the masques that Jasmine and Prince Henry had taken part in several years before. It was more music and dancing, with little story, although the costumes, as always, were lovely. Jasmine recognized none of the young people involved. Times are changing, she thought, and I am getting older. After the masque ended, there was dancing. The marquis of Hartsfield made to lead Jasmine out onto the floor, but Prince Charles stepped forward.

"The first dance is mine, I believe, my lord," the young man said. He did not stutter once.

"Of course, Your Highness," Piers St.Denis answered, stepping back and bowing to the royal prince.

Charles Stuart took Jasmine's hand, and they began to dance a stately country dance. "You are not going to marry him, are you, m-madame?" the prince asked.

"I most certainly am not going to marry him," Jasmine said. "Because your father is so insistent, I must play at letting him court me, but I detest Piers St.Denis, Your Highness, and I love Glenkirk."

"W-why did you run away then?" He twirled her gracefully.

"Like Your Highness, I am a king's child. I do not like being told what to do, and I had not finished mourning Hal. I was not ready to marry again. Not so soon. Now, however, it is different. Lord Leslie loved me even before I wed with my beloved Rowan Lindley. He loves me now, and I have come to love him. Try to love the girl you finally marry, Your Highness. It is so important to a woman to be loved." She dipped and, lifting her skirts, pranced three steps.

He lifted her lightly, swinging her about, and then replaced her on the floor, where they moved in the final elegant precise steps of the dance. "I d-do not like St.Denis. There is s-something unwholesome about him. And I like Villiers e-even less. He t-takes my father's attention from m-me. S-still, if I had to choose, I suppose Villiers is b-better. He is greedy, but h-harmless."

"I agree, Your Highness. You are very wise for a young man," she praised him. Then she curtsied deeply, the dance over.

He returned her to St.Denis, nodding curtly at the marquis. Piers St.Denis could hardly contain his excitement. The royal family treated Jasmine as if she were one of their own! It was not only the child, but its mother as well who would bring him power. With a broad smile he led her into the figure of the next dance.

He was, she thought, an excellent dancer. It made the evening more pleasant than she had anticipated. He suggested a small interlude after a time, fetching them chilled wine and leading her to a cushioned alcove in a window where they might sit and be restored.

"The king and his family hold you in high esteem," he told her approvingly. "You will, in time, wield a certain amount of power here at court because of your excellent connections."

"When I marry Glenkirk," she said, "I will not remain at court."

"Why do you persist in this fantasy that you will marry the earl of Glenkirk?" he demanded of her angrily. "I am the man you will marry, Jasmine. And we will make our life at court."

"My lord," she said patiently, "the choice is mine to make, as you well know. This evening is the fantasy, and it is yours, not mine!"

"I can delay your marriage indefinitely, Jasmine. The king will do it if I beg him. I can convince the king to change his mind and give you to me," the marquis threatened.

She laughed. There was nothing else for it but to laugh. It was either that, or she would scream. "The king is weak where his favorites are concerned, my lord, but he will never go back on a word so publicly given," Jasmine told him with complete candor.

In response he forced her back against the stone sill of the window and kissed her fiercely. One hand dived down the low front of her dress to capture a breast and squeeze it hard. His lips worked feverishly against hers. His tongue forced its way into her mouth.

Taken unawares, Jasmine struggled with herself a moment to maintain her calm and not panic. His kiss was abhorrent. She gagged on his tongue. The hand fumbling with her breast was repellent, and he was hurting her. She would be bruised. She bit down on his tongue, shoving him away from her at the same time, then slapping him hard.

"How dare you lay hands on me!" she hissed furiously.

He tried to pinion her again, but Jasmine, ready for him this time, shoved her knee hard into his groin. Hearing his gasp of both pain and surprise, she pushed him aside to escape from the windowed alcove. Grasping at the skirt of her gown, he momentarily restrained her, preventing her flight.

"You will be mine!" he half groaned, nausea sweeping over him from the pain she had inflicted on his private parts.

"Let go of my gown, my lord," she said through gritted teeth. "What must I do to convince you that I do not welcome your suit? Must I kill you, my lord? I am fully capable of it, you know. I personally hanged Rowan Lindley's murderer in the very same hour as my husband's death." Jasmine's anger rose. "You repel me, my lord. I would just as soon slit your handsome throat as look at you! I will not play this game any longer! I will, under no circumstances, marry you, my lord St.Denis!" Then, with a determined hand, she smacked his grip away and moved off swiftly across the hall.

Reaching the area where the royal family was seated, she curtsied low to the king. Her color was very high. "My liege?" she said in a quiet, but firm voice obviously directed at James Stuart.

"Aye, lassie, what is it?" he asked her.

"My lord, I beg you, do not force me to wed with the marquis of Hartsfield," she said, sinking dramatically to her knees.

"Nah, nah, lassie, I said the choice was to be yers," the king replied, genuinely distressed by her flamboyant action.

"Then I beg you, accept my decision in the matter. Your Majesty was absolutely right two years ago when your chose James Leslie for my husband. I need a man to whom I can look up, and I do look up to the earl of Glenkirk. I need a man whom I can love, and who loves me. That man is the earl of Glenkirk. I have pledged myself to him before God Almighty; and having to endure the embraces of another man seeking to have me to wife under such circumstances makes me feel as if I am being dishonorable. Please, I plead with Your Majesty to accept my decision in this matter! I will not take any man for my husband but James Leslie, the earl of Glenkirk!

"I know how Your Majesty values the friendship of the marquis of Hartsfield. That is why I ask that you choose another suitable woman for his wife. If you love him, as I know you do, then find him a wife who will honor him and appreciate Your Majesty's kindness, and the marquis of Hartsfield as well. Unfortunately, that woman is not me. You have said that the choice of a husband is mine. I can say no more plainly than I have said that it is James Leslie whom I choose."

"God's foot," murmured George Villiers to the queen, "she has chanced all with a single throw of the dice! What incredible style!"

The king sat stupefied, not certain of what he should do. He had promised Jasmine the choice. He had promised Piers St.Denis the opportunity to court her; but here she was, troublesome lassie, refusing to cooperate once again. She had made it so publicly plain that she would not have St.Denis, poor sweet laddie, that he really couldn't force her to continue to accept the marquis's advances.

"Father?" Young Charles Stuart spoke softly to his sire. The king started. "Aye, my bairn, what is it?"

"While Lady Lindley has made her decision sooner than you would have wished, I think you knew she would choose Glenkirk in the end. The marquis is foolish if he believed otherwise, for in his heart he surely knew it also. Be gracious and generous, as only you know how, Father. I like Lady Lindley, and Hal loved her deeply. He would want you to give her this boon, and I know he liked Glenkirk."

"The boy is right," the queen interjected softly.

"Aye, my dear lord, he shows wisdom for one so young," Villiers said, ignoring the fierce, irritated look the prince shot him, which plainly said that he didn't need, or want, George Villiers's help. Villiers forced back the smile that threatened to crack his lips. Prince Charles was jealous of him, he well knew, but eventually he would win over the younger man. James Stuart was nearing the end of his life, but Charles Stuart would be England's next king. George Villiers intended to be on his good side when he inherited the throne.

The king heard them all. He looked at Jasmine, her royal blue skirts spread about her as she knelt before her, her dark head bowed. What a troublesome wench she was, he thought, but his son was right. Henry Stuart had adored her. He would want her happy, and if Glenkirk was the man to make her happy, then so be it. "Verra well, Lady Lindley," he grumbled at her. "Glenkirk it is, and God help the puir man wi such a headstrong lassie for his wife. Still, I suppose he knows what he is getting. But ye may nae go from court until he returns from Scotland. I want to see my grandson again before ye both return north." James Stuart held out his hand to Jasmine, and she kissed it gratefully.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said. "Thank you!"

"Steenie, help her up, for pity's sake, and dance wi her. Lady Manners won't mind as it is a royal command. I hae had enough for one night, and I'm going to bed."

"But my dearest, dearest lord!" The marquis of Hartsfield had finally regained himself, and stood before the king, woebegone.

"Dinna fret, Piers," the king said. "We'll find ye another nice lassie wi a good income."

"But I want Lady Lindley, sire!"

"Ye canna hae her, Piers. Now cease yer whining, laddie, and trust yer old da to make it right, eh?" He got to his feet. "Come and help me to my bed, Piers. I am exhausted wi all this fuss." He leaned heavily on the younger man.

"I'll go with you," the queen said, standing quickly, and offering the marquis a patently false sympathetic smile.

"I don't want to dance another step, Steenie," Jasmine told him. "Escort me to my barge. My servant is waiting." She took his arm as they walked through the crowded hall. A path opened before them, and the whispers, quite discernible, hummed all about them.

"Well, my dearie," Villiers said with a chortle as they were finally clear of the hall, "you have caused quite the most delicious scandal this night. What on earth made you do it? It was a dangerous ploy that very well might have gone against you."

"I don't like St.Denis to begin with," Jasmine told the king's young favorite, "but he attempted to make love to me, and I found it most distasteful. I knew then I could not play this game another moment until my Jemmie returned. Imagine keeping St.Denis completely at bay. The king did say, after all, that the choice was mine."

"And a damned good thing he did," Villiers noted. "Piers St.Denis appears to be totally obsessed with you, madame. I suspect he would have done almost anything to have you had the king not made the decision yours and yours alone."

"Thank you for your help, Steenie," Jasmine said as they gained the royal quay, and her barge was rowed quickly forward. "I do not forget my friends, nor does my family forget those who have rendered them a great kindness." She took Adali's outstretched hand and stepped down into her barge. "Hurry back to the king, my gentleman of the bedchamber, lest the dreadful St.Denis steal a march on you."

"Not while the queen is there," Villiers replied with a smile. He kissed her hand. "Good night, Lady Lindley. It was a fine match, excellently played. You have my admiration. Your skirts, spread so artfully about you, was indeed the crowning touch." He turned and walked away, chuckling.

Jasmine laughed as she took her seat and watched him go. A very clever young man as she had earlier noted. He missed nothing. "Adali," she said, "we are finally free of the marquis of Hartsfield!" And then she proceeded to tell her servant the details of her evening, unaware Adali had been in the hall and seen her pleading with the king.

"Shall we be able to return to Queen's Malvern then, my lady?" Adali asked her as he draped a cloak about her shoulders to keep the chill from the night river wind from her.

"The king has requested that I remain until Jemmie returns so he may see the duke of Lundy again," she replied.

"With your permission, my lady, I shall hire extra men-at-arms to patrol Greenwood and watch the house. The marquis of Hartsfield did not appear to me to be a particularly good loser. You have publicly repudiated him. He will, unless I miss my guess, be seeking revenge."

"It's just a few weeks, Adali, and then we shall be gone," Jasmine reassured him, "but it does no harm to be cautious. Hire the extra men to guard the house and the grounds."

"A few weeks and she will be gone, my lord," Piers St.Denis said to the king. "I beg you to change your mind and give her to me!"

"Nay, Piers love, I gie my word too publicly to take it back, and I dinna think I would anyhow. Lady Lindley is too sophisticated for ye. Leave her to Glenkirk. ‘Tis better that way."

The marquis of Hartsfield pouted angrily, turning his handsome face from the king in a show of both defiance and bad manners.

"We'll find you a lovely young wife with a fortune," the queen promised him. "‘Twill make up for your disappointment, I'm certain."

"No!" St.Denis said vehemently. "If you would make me happy, my dear lord, and if I cannot have Jasmine Lindley, then give me the duke of Lundy to nurture and protect. Then I will know that I have not lost your favor. Do not saddle me with some young innocent and send me away, I beg of you!" He caught up the king's hand and kissed it passionately.

"What? Ye want my grandson's custody, too?" the king said.

"Too?" Piers St.Denis repeated.

"Aye. Yer the second to ask me for the bairn. The earl of Bartram came to me just the other day with the same request, Piers."

"Surely you would not give the boy to that man, my dear lord?" Piers St.Denis felt his pique fading away as his sense of survival and strong ambition took center stage.

"He hae served me well," the king noted, "and ‘twould be a fine retirement present if I decide to remove my grandson from his mother's care, and I hae not yet made that decision, my sweet laddie. Dinna fret now. I will gie ye something verra nice to make up for yer loss."

"What has St.Denis lost, my liege?" George Villiers asked, coming into the king's bedchamber.

"Lady Lindley," the king replied.

"Why, sire, he never had her in the first place," Villiers chuckled. "‘Twas a question of a rather mangy cat looking at a beauteous queen."

The king chortled. He simply couldn't help it. The queen was also helpless to her mirth and giggled, to the marquis's discomfort.

"Yer a bad boy, Steenie, to tease poor Piers so," the king scolded him, halfheartedly. "He hae suffered a great loss."

"Aye, the loss of Lady Lindley's great fortune!" Villiers mocked his rival, grinning impudently.

The marquis of Hartsfield's hand went to his sword, and then it fell away. To fight in the royal presence was a treasonable offense. "I harbored a great affection for the fair Jasmine," he said stiffly.

"And a greater affection for her jewels, I'll wager," Villiers riposted. "When you danced with her tonight you looked not at her, but rather at that incredible necklace of sapphires she was wearing."

"You would not dare to speak to me outside of the king's hearing in such a manner," the marquis snarled, "for you know I should avenge my honor, which you are so easily sullying, Villiers."

"Come, then," George Villiers challenged, "and let us go outside, my lord. I shall be glad to fight you."

The king looked genuinely distressed, and the queen, alarmed

"I should not dirty my hands with the likes of you, Villiers. A marquis of Hartsfield does not do battle with a commoner of no standing, such as yourself." Then he bowed to the king. "With Your Majesty's permission I shall withdraw."

"Aye, go home and settle yer nerves, Piers, my darling," the king said. "I'll think on what ye hae asked me."

The king's gentlemen got him ready for bed, and when he was settled, and they had left the chamber, the queen came and sat by his bedside. "You will not give little Charles Frederick Stuart to Stokes, or St.Denis, will you, Jamie? He should stay with his mother."

"Aye, and I know it, Annie," the king told her. "Am I nae called the wisest fool in Christendom?"

"Then why did ye not tell St.Denis that?" she asked.

"Och, Annie, he would only sulk more and niggle at me over it. Ye were right. I should hae nae gien him the opportunity to court Lady Lindley, especially after she had agreed to wed wi Jemmie Leslie. I but raised his hopes, then I went and made it worse by sending Jemmie off to Scotland, which distressed Jasmine. He was seriously embarrassed this evening when Lady Lindley said so loudly and so publicly that she would nae hae him for her husband."

"He deserved it," the queen said. "I saw him from across the hall mauling her in an alcove. Jasmine was not pleased by his quite boorish attentions, Jamie."

"Ahh, so that is what set her off," the king observed. "Well, ‘tis water ‘neath the bridge now, Annie. Dinna fear. I dinna intend taking our grandson from his mam and Glenkirk. They will raise him well. Stokes is a fool with his talk of Lady Lindley's unchaste life; and my sweet Piers underestimates me in that he thinks I dinna realize that he wants our grandson to revenge himself on Jasmine. He also thinks the bairn will gie him power here at court and over us." The king laughed, and then he said, "Perhaps he foretold his own future tonight, Annie. I believe I am grown verra tired of being torn between him and Steenie. The latter is far more biddable, do ye nae think? He was wicked to tease Piers so unmercifully. Piers doesna hae a sense of humor where he, himself, is concerned."

"Then you do intend to send St.Denis away!" Queen Anne could scarcely keep the excitement from her voice.

James Stuart nodded. "I am growing old, Annie. I want an absence of strife in my life. ‘Tis nae an easy thing to be a king. I hae no Parliament to irritate me right now. There is peace wi Spain and France. True, the Puritans and the Scots Presbyterians seek to cause me difficulty, but I believe I hae them well in hand. Bessie and her Frederick seem happy if her letters are to be believed. As for our bairn, Charles, eventually he may make England an king. Not the king our Henry would hae been, God rest his sweet soul, but we hae no other choice, Annie, do we?

"But there are those about me, as there are about all kings, who would make unreasonable demands. Bartram's time is over, and his usefulness to me finished. He must go wi my thanks, and something that will make it appear that he is nae out of favor, just pensioned off. There is nae doubt in my heart and mind that poor Sir Thomas Overbury was murdered, and more than likely the earl and countess of Somerset were behind it. He and his Frances will remain in the Tower and out of my sight for the present. Eventually I will pardon them, but they will be exiled from my court when that day comes. I dinna want to see either of them again."

The king sighed deeply, sadly. "Ahhh, Annie, I gie my Robbie so much and look how he hae betrayed me. I now see that Piers St.Denis is cut from the same cloth. He is blindly ambitious, and that, I realize, makes him dangerous. We'll find him a good wife, then he must go back to the country estate from whence he came. I need a more amenable laddie about me. Och, I know Steenie is ambitious, too, but his nature is sweeter and more obedient. When he hints at me for a wee something, I feel if I dinna gie it to him, he would still love his old da. He reminds me a wee bit of our puir Henry."

"Unlike St.Denis," the queen said meaningfully. "You're a wise old bird, Jamie, to give St.Denis an heiress bride and send him home. You'll have no peace until you do, particularly once Glenkirk returns from Scotland and marries Jasmine."

"Jemmie will nae stay at court. He hae told me that," the king said to his wife. "He says he'll spend the autumns and winters at Glenkirk and the spring and summers at his wife's home. There is the young marquis of Westleigh to consider. He needs to be on his holding at least part of the year. And Jemmie wants bairns of his own again."

"Aye," the queen replied. "His sons would be almost grown had they not died with their poor mother all those years back. Such a terrible thing, Jamie, and they never caught the murderers, did they?"

The king shook his head in the negative. "God knows them, Annie, and they will face his retribution one day, if they have not already done so. He will render a harsher judgment, I think, for those men who attacked a nunnery and burned it to the ground after having raped and murdered the women and children within. ‘Twas a dreadful crime."

The royal couple were silent a moment, remembering James Leslie's sweet first wife, Isabella Gordon, and their two sons. Then the queen arose from her husband's bedside, leaning over to give him a tender kiss.

"Good night, my dear," she said. "God give you a good rest." She curtsied to him and backed from the bedchamber. "The king will sleep now," she told the gentleman of the bedchamber, who remained on duty for the night. "See he is not disturbed except for an emergency."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the gentleman said, opening the door to the king's apartments so the queen might pass through into her own apartment next door. "Good night, madame."

"Good night," replied the queen, not looking back as the door shut behind her.

"Young Villiers is waiting for Your Majesty," said Lady Hamilton, one of her ladies-in-waiting, coming forward to greet the queen. "I put him in your private closet, madame." She curtsied.

"Very good, Jane. I will see him first, then I wish to prepare for bed. It has been a very long day." The queen passed through the salon into the privacy of a small, paneled room, where George Villiers was awaiting her. Seated by the fire toasting his toes, he jumped quickly to his feet as she entered, and bowed. "Well, Steenie," the queen said with a small smile, "St. Denis may be on his way home before long. You will say nothing to the king, however, until it is an absolute fact. He is just as apt to change his mind as not, you know."

"The secret is safe with me," George Villiers replied, his heart racing with his impending victory. He would not disappoint the king as his rival had; or Robert Carr, either.

"If you behave yourself," the queen continued, "and I do mean you must be totally loyal to His Majesty, and a total model of decorum; you could be a viscount by Christmas, Steenie. And after that, who knows? The earl of Rutland and his daughter will be very pleased to see you advancing yourself, eh?" The queen smiled coyly.

"I would one day be greater than Rutland," George Villiers said. His dark eyes danced, and his handsome face bore an intense look.

Queen Anne laughed. "How bad you are, Steenie, for all you look like an angel. I suspect if you continue to play the game as well as you have so far, that one day you may indeed rise higher than the earl of Rutland. So high, in fact, that it will appear as if you did him a great favor to marry his daughter at all," the queen finished.

"Nay, madame, I should marry Kate one day even if she were not possessed of a great fortune," George Villiers declared.

"But how fortunate it is for you, my dear Steenie, that she is possessed of a great fortune," the queen remarked knowingly.

George Villiers grinned. "Aye, madame, it is, isn't it?"

And they both laughed.