Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

T hey returned to Glenkirk Castle, and it was as if Piers St.Denis, the marquis of Hartsfield, had disappeared off the face of the earth. He was nowhere to be found either in England or Scotland. BrocCairn and Adam Leslie had gone back to the cottage where Jasmine had briefly been held captive. It was as empty as when she had left it but for a jug of wine, a stale loaf of bread, and a bit of cheese lying upon the table. The wine carafe was full, and neither the bread or the cheese had been eaten. St.Denis had obviously returned to find Jasmine gone, deposited their meal upon the table, and sought after her. Not finding her, he had himself vanished.

George Villiers returned to England, his mission for the king successfully completed, and his only rival for James Stuart's attention vanquished. Shortly after the new year the king, with the urging of the queen, created Villiers the earl of Buckingham. The king then pronounced Kipp St.Denis legitimate by virtue of his father's public affection for him and the fact that his father had allowed his eldest son the benefit of his name. Kipp was then made marquis of Hartsfield, as he had been firstborn of the previous marquis's sons.

The queen, who had made Kipp her especial pet, for Kipp, following Villiers's lead had given Her Majesty much time, respect, and attention, found him a suitable wife. Kipp had, the queen was fond of saying, a good heart, and he had endured much under his brother's wicked domain. The bride, a beloved bastard daughter of one of the favorite courtiers, came with a suitable dowry. She was delighted with her good fortune and devoted to her husband, who was equally pleased with her.

The king spent the winter months personally making plans for his return to Scotland in the summer to come, for his family and advisors were resisting the idea. He sent orders that Holyrood Palace was to be completely refurbished for the visit and sent word to Glenkirk that he would expect to see both James and Jasmine Leslie there to greet him when he arrived in Edinburgh. It was to be a full state visit with both the queen and Prince Charles in attendance.

"When is he coming?" Jasmine asked.

"I expect he will arrive in mid-July," her husband answered. "If I know Their Majesties, they will want to remain to hunt in August and September. They will begin their progress, however, in early June."

"And every family in their path will both dread and anticipate their coming," Jasmine laughed. "Particularly as they will travel with the entire court. It is outrageously expensive to entertain royalty, even for a meal, or a single night. Grandmama said it was months before the lawns at Queen's Malvern were back to normal after the old queen came those many years ago; but when the king came after Charlie-boy's birth, he and the queen came alone, with only a few attendants."

"I am relieved to say we will nae have to entertain the royal Stuarts," Jemmie said. His speech had begun to slip back now and then into the dialect of the land. "He'll nae venture into the Highlands."

"But where will he hunt?" Jasmine asked her husband.

"He'll keep to the pack at Holyrood. ‘Tis safer for him." Jemmie chuckled. He took her hand and kissed it. "You are lovely when you are full wi my bairns," he told her.

"Only at Holyrood?" Jasmine persisted.

"Probably at Falklands and in Perth," he replied. "Is it another son, darling Jasmine? It seems I recall you did promise me at least three sons." He put his hand upon her belly, which was only now beginning to swell with the new life she sheltered within her.

"It will be as God wills," she teased him, "but I will admit it is already behaving like a boy, and he will come before the king comes, which will give me time to regain my figure for the new gowns you're going to buy me so I won't embarrass you before the court."

"I thought you didn't want to go to court," he said.

"I don't want to live at court in England," she told him, "but the king has asked us to join him in Edinburgh, and I do not see any reason why we cannot go for a short time."

"It will mean you lose your English summer," he told her.

"So will Mama and BrocCairn," she replied. "We will invite Grandmama to Glenkirk. She likes it here, and you like her."

"I do," he admitted. Then he teased, "You have it all figured out, madame, don't you? Tell me, will these gowns be expensive?"

"Verra expensive," she teased back, and when he pulled her into his arms, kissing her soundly, Jasmine thought she had never been happier. She had had nightmares for several weeks after her escape from St.Denis. At first she had been unable to tell Jemmie what had happened to her other than to reassure him that she had not been raped. She knew she was not to blame for St.Denis's wicked behavior, but she was frankly embarrassed by the dreadful humiliations she had suffered at his hands. The welts and weals upon her body had healed quickly, but the injury to her pride was greater than the blows he had inflicted upon her.

Finally, she told him, leaving out but a single detail. Jasmine would not tell her husband of how St.Denis had made her kneel before him and take his member into her mouth. James Leslie need never know it had happened; and if they ever again found themselves face-to-face with the villain, and he taunted Jemmie with the knowledge, she would deny it. James Leslie would, she knew, believe her before he would believe St.Denis. She had done what she had to do to save her life, but would Jemmie fully understand that? She dared not take the chance and spoil the greatest happiness she had ever known.

Adam John Leslie was born on the fourteenth day of May in the year 1617. He had his parents' dark hair and eyes that promised to remain a smoky blue. Named for both sides of his family, he was a fat, cheerful infant who happily moved from his mother's breast at the age of one month to the breast of the plump farm wife who was his wet nurse. His sisters, now nine and seven; and his brothers, who were eight, five, and a year, seemed content with their new sibling. As for James Leslie, he was ecstatic at the birth of another son.

Jasmine had born her sixth child with the same ease as she had most of her children.

"You have grown content and lost your restlessness," Adali remarked. "You are like your mother, I think."

"Which one?" Jasmine asked him, a small smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. "Rugaiya Begum or Lady Gordon?"

"Both," he told her. "How happy the begum would be to see you now, my princess."

"She sees us, Adali," Jasmine responded. "She and my father both." They had learned late in the previous year of the death of Jasmine's Indian foster mother, the princess wife of Akbar, Jasmine's father.

Adali nodded, his brown eyes just slightly teary. Then, catching himself, he said, "We must concentrate on your new wardrobe, my princess. The king is even now on the move north."

And he was, although his English advisors had pleaded with James Stuart to avoid this additional extravagance to his overspent budget. While their advice was good, the truth was they dreaded this long trip to Scotland, and then back to England again. Even Villiers, now Buckingham, had suggested that perhaps such an indulgent trip was not particularly wise.

"What then, Steenie?" the king snarled at his favorite. "Do ye fear such an expense to my treasury will mean less wee gifties to ye? Dinna be selfish! I am like a salmon who must spawn back to its breeding grounds one more time. Dinna fret me again about it, and tell the others I will nae hear any more about it. We leave on June 1!" Then the king did something he had never done. He flung a vase at his favorite in a temper, and the Earl of Buckingham beat a hasty retreat.

A royal visit to Scotland was a huge undertaking. A route had to be decided upon, and it depended on the great houses in its path where the king might stay a night or two. The court would have to fend for itself, which meant finding inns, or barns, or packing tents which, on occasion, even the king would billet himself in for lack of better accommodation. The king's bed was brought complete with its mattress, featherbed, down coverlet, pillows, and linens. It had to be set up each night with its heavy draperies for His Majesty to sleep in unless there was a suitable bed offered by the royal host. Tapestries, beeswax candles, fine porcelain, linens, and silver were packed for Their Majesties' comfort. As the king had a great love of soft fruit, cherries, peaches, apricots, grapes, and melons were also sent north posthaste as they became available.

The king, who had gladly and swiftly vacated Scotland upon his ascension in order to escape his contentious Scots nobles, now waxed very sentimental with each mile they traveled. The queen rolled her mild blue eyes in exasperation. The courtiers grumbled excessively at the inconvenience and the expense involved in this great landward voyage northward. Finally, they crossed the border. A host of the great border families came to greet them. Armstrongs, Douglases, Eliots, Hamiltons, Hays, Johnsons, Lindsays, Homeses, and Hepburns came forth, banners flying, pipes playing wildly and joyfully as they welcomed their king home again. The English courtiers in their satins and laces looked askance at the bare-legged Scots in their kilts and caps.

William Drummond of Hawthornden stepped forward, bowing to the king. There had been two Drummond queens of Scotland. David II's wife, Margaret; and Annabella Drummond, wife of Robert III, and the mother of James I. The Drummonds were ever loyal to the Stuarts. The Drummond of Hawthornden offered James Stuart a special greeting.

And why should Isis only see thee shine?

Is not the Forth as well as Isis thine?

Though Isis vaunt she hath more wealth in store

Let it suffice thy Forth doth love thee more.

"What does it mean?" Prince Charles asked softly.

"Isis is England, the Forth, Scotland," Villiers, who was now the prince's good friend, replied. "And he's saying that Scotland loves your father more than England. It is quite clever, Your Highness."

"Aye," the queen said. "The Scots are clever, but they are also stubborn. Wait. It will not be long before they are arguing with your father over something, my son. Mark them well, for you shall one day have to deal with them, and they are a proud and difficult people. And you may be certain that the Presbyterians will give him trouble."

The king, however, was delighted to be back. He was flattered by the many delegations greeting him with kind words and by the fine statue of himself that had been raised at the Nether Bow. His reign from England had already brought new prosperity to his native land. Best of all, the peace and order he had struggled so hard to bring to Scotland while he was still only its king was still fairly secure and in place.

The court was to stay at Holyrood, a mile down the Cannongate from Edinburgh Castle. Originally an abbey built in the twelfth century, it took its name from a piece of the true cross, or rood, which was its most prized possession. The abbey guesthouse had become a favorite lodging of the Scots kings. Marriages, funerals, births, and other state occasions took place at the abbey. Finally, James IV decided that the guesthouse should become a royal palace. Of course it was necessary that the new palace be enlarged and its appointments enhanced.

James IV built a large northwest tower with pointed turrets and a crenellated parapet that reminded Jasmine of the chateaux in the Loire near Archambault, and Belle Fleurs. He then added a south wing to the tower that had its main door flanked by two semicircular towers with witches' caps roofs. Holyrood had a distinct elegance to it. It was surrounded by lovely gardens and set within a large forested park overseen by one Thomas Fentoun, the royal keeper of the park, and of the king's beasts, which included a lion, a tiger, several lynx, and a vast number of game birds. Deer roamed freely.

The royal suite was in the northwest tower. The queen was housed on the second floor, in rooms that had belonged to her late and never known mother-in-law, Mary, Queen of Scots. There was a Presence Chamber hung with black velvet with the arms of Marie de Guise, who had been James's French grandmother, emblazoned upon the ceiling. Off of this chamber was the queen's bedchamber. There were two other small rooms, one for dressing and one for dining, which was draped in crimson and green. A narrow private staircase, which opened into the queen's bedchamber, connected the queen's apartments with the king's, which were directly below it. Those rooms had belonged to the king's father, Lord Darnley. Prince Charles and the earl of Buckingham were housed near the king's apartments.

As the royal party entered the park of Holyrood, they found awaiting them a number of the Highland families, including the Leslies of Glenkirk. Jasmine and Jemmie had arrived earlier and, finding the palace steward, had been informed a bedchamber had been set aside for them, for the king had expressly sent orders that they were to stay at Holyrood while he was there.

"We have a house just several streets away," the earl told the king's steward. "Give our chamber to another."

"I am sorry, my lord, but I have my orders. His Majesty wishes you to be near him during this visit," the steward said firmly.

"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 stags horn. 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.

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.

"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.

"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.

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.

"Why, bless you, child, I thank you." Skye laughed. "You surely have your great-grandfather's charm. But come into the house, my dears," she invited them. "It is starting to rain, and I want a good look at these babies of yours, Jasmine. Gracious! Is that Patrick? He is going to be a big boy." She peered at the two-year-old in his nursemaid's arms. "How do you do, Patrick Leslie," Skye said. "I am your great-grandmother, and I helped to birth you. Where is the other laddie? The one named after my Adam. Ahhh," she said with a satisfied smile when he was presented to her in the front hallway of her house. "He has his eyes, doesn't he?"

"From the moment of his birth, Grandmama," Jasmine said.

"Tomorrow, when the rain is over, you will come and see the monument we have set over his grave," Skye said.

They settled into Queen's Malvern for the summer. In a few weeks Henry Lindley and his two sisters would be departing for his seat at Cadby. Adali would accompany the children and remain with them until the summer's end, when they would return to Queen's Malvern, and thence to Glenkirk. Their Gordon grandparents would also remain with them. James Leslie, however, insisted upon personally taking his stepchildren across the countryside to Cadby.

"At last we have time together," Skye said to Jasmine when they had gone. It was evening, and they sat together in the family hall before a fire that took the chill off the early June evening. The young Leslies were safe asleep in their cots. Charlie-boy, who did not like being separated from his elder siblings, had been allowed to ride over with the duke's party. He felt very grown-up. "You are happy, of course," Skye said, "and that makes me happy, darling girl. Will there be more babies?" She sipped at her wine cup, then nibbled on a sweetmeat.

"I did promise Jemmie three sons," Jasmine said with a smile "and I should like another daughter, God willing."

"You take the potion I gave you?"

Jasmine nodded. "Two sons in two years was enough for the present. I wanted a rest else I be worn out like so many women."

"Good, good," the old woman nodded. "I did the same after I birthed Ewan and Murrough. His son rescued you last year, I was told."

"I went to the docks in Leith, hoping to find one of your ships in port, and I did. Fortunately, it was Geoffrey O'Flaherty captaining. Heaven knows if a stranger to me would have believed such an outlandish tale; his little son certainly thought I was mad, or a whore sneaking aboard to find business. I was dressed like a simple Scotswoman, as we had just come from the games hosted by Clan Bruce."

"They have never found Piers St.Denis?" Skye asked.

Jasmine shook her head. "I still fear he may come back some day to try and take me away from my family. He is quite mad, Grandmama."

"You need have no fears, darling girl. Put them behind you, for he has undoubtedly fled the country," Skye said.

"But fear, madame, is an excellent goad when dealing with recalcitrant women," a familiar voice said, and Piers St.Denis stepped from the shadows of the room. He was badly dressed in the simple garb of a citizen of the merchant class, a small white ruff about his neck relieving the severity of his black clothing.

"Oh, God!" Jasmine whispered, and her heart began to beat very quickly at the thought of having to contend once more with the madman.

"How did you get into my house?" Skye demanded, not in the least afraid. He was mad, of that she had not a doubt, but he also reminded her of her first husband, Dom O'Flaherty, and she had never been really afraid of Dom, who had been nothing more than a bully.

"The front door was open, madame, and there were no servants about to stop me. Tsk. Tsk. Such carelessness," came the mocking reply.

"Get out!" Skye told him firmly.

Piers St.Denis laughed, genuinely amused. Too bad she was so old and dried up. If rumor had it correct, she had been a marvelous fuck in her youth. Her granddaughter, however, promised equal delights.

"How did you know I was here?" Jasmine had finally found her voice, and now that the shock of his arrival was over, she found her fear had gone also. She was very angry.

"It is well-known that you and your mother like to return here to Queen's Malvern in the summer. You did not come last year, of course, because the king went to Scotland; but I knew you would be here this summer. I had but to wait until your parents and husband took the young Lindleys off to Cadby. I am a most patient man, my pet, and you are a very clever woman. I shall not underestimate you again. I was very surprised to return to our little love nest to find you gone. And how quick-witted of you to go to Leith, knowing I would believe you were trying to escape back to Edinburgh. It was adroitly done, my pet."

"What do you want here?" Skye demanded of him.

"Why, madame, I would have thought that was obvious. I am going to kill you both, and then I shall slay your two Leslie children, who are within this house. My only regret is that I cannot destroy your little Stuart bastard, and break old king fool's heart as he has broken mine. You see, madame, I have given up all hope of your ever being mine; but it is due to you that I have lost everything. If you had not led me on only to reject me, I should yet today be marquis of Hartsfield, with a rich wife chosen by the queen and the king still my friend. You, and you alone, are responsible for my misfortunes, and you will pay for your treachery."

"No!" Jasmine almost shouted at him. "You are responsible for your own bad fortune, sir. I told you from the beginning that I was in love with James Leslie, and pledged to him, and him alone. You would not listen! You kept insisting despite everything I said that I would be yours. You even followed me to Scotland after my marriage, and after the birth of my first Leslie son, and had the temerity to kidnap me. It is your stubborn nature that has caused you to lose everything, not I. Now go away while you yet have the opportunity, or I shall call the servants, and they shall hold you for the local sheriff. There is a price on your head, and many who would gladly have it."

He moved across the room until he stood directly before the two women. "I will not be deterred in my purpose this time, madame," he said. "Know this, and be afraid of my power. My traitorous half-brother is this day a widower. Had he not been up in London when I arrived at Hartsfield Hall, I would have killed him, too. His wife was quite a lovely woman. I whipped her until her back was raw, and she was begging for mercy. Then I forced her as I did you, but her mouth and tongue were not nearly as skillful as yours, my pet. And when she had finished, I had my way with her. How she screamed, but more so when I plundered her temple of Sodom, for it would seem my brother had never been that way. And when I had my fill of her ripe charms, I slit her throat and left her dying in a pool of her own bright red blood. My final act before leaving my home was to strangle her infant son. I will not allow my half-brother's bastard line to defile the house of St.Denis."

"And where were the servants when you were doing all of this, sir?" Skye demanded, not certain that she believed him.

"At a fair in the village," he said. "She had allowed all of them to go, the silly, softhearted creature. But I have wasted far too much time here tonight. I must complete my revenge, then disappear for good this time. The jewelry that you are wearing, Madame Skye, will keep me comfortable for quite some time." He smiled and, moving closer, reached out to take the heavy gold necklace with is sapphire pendant from her.

Jasmine was in a half daze from listening to the story Piers St.Denis had just told them. She heard her grandmother speak.

"I told you once, sir, that you were not skilled enough to play my game," Skye said, and her hand moved so swiftly that Jasmine could not believe what she was witnessing. The dagger appeared from nowhere and plunged straight into Piers St.Denis's heart muscle. Skye smiled into his face as she twisted her weapon in order to inflict the most damage and ensure his very swift death. "I will not allow you to ruin my darling girl's life ever again," Skye said firmly, then she stepped back a pace.

He crumpled to the floor, a look of incredulous surprise upon his very dissolute face. Then the light fled from his bright blue eyes, and Piers St.Denis breathed his last. He was quite dead.

Jasmine's breath escaped her in an audible whoosh. " Grandmama!" was all that she could say.

Red Hugh ran into the hall and, seeing the body, swore. "Jesu! Why is it, m'lady, that whenever yer in danger from that fellow, I am nae where to be found? Is he dead?" He knelt for a moment by the body.

"He's dead," Skye said. "He got in because the door was open for the breeze, and there was no servant in the front hall. From now on there must always be someone there." She sat down heavily. "Get me some wine, man. I've just killed the devil's own son."

He arose. "Whiskey would be better, madame," he said, pouring her out a dram. "Here! Drink it down, and I'll gie ye another."

Skye followed his orders. She was weak with relief.

He took the dram jigger and poured her a second libation. "One more," he said. The old lady looked pale. "Ye did a fine job of it, madame," he told her. "He dinna hae a chance once ye stuck him wi yer blade. I dinna know that ye carried any weapon."

"Old habits are hard to break," Skye remarked. "I have always, since my girlhood in Ireland, carried a dagger." She looked dispassionately at the body of Piers St.Denis. "Get rid of that, Red Hugh. Take it to the parson in the village and have it buried in unhallowed ground. He was an evil man, and while God may forgive him, none of us will." She pulled herself up. "Come, my darling girl, and help me upstairs. I have had quite enough excitement for one day. Will there ever come a day when my life is completely at peace? Nay. I know the answer to that, and I can even hear your grandfather laughing at my foolishness. There will be no peace for Skye O'Malley until she is dead and buried."

"Are you certain you will find peace even then?" Jasmine teased her grandmother, as they made their way up the staircase.

"Probably not, my dear duchess, probably not," Skye said, and then she laughed along with her darling Jasmine.