Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The Countess of BrocCairn sat beneath a willow tree in her mother's garden working upon a tapestry. Beside her sat her two daughters: Sybilla, embroidering her monogram upon some fine linen pillow slips, Jasmine reading. The late afternoon was unusually warm. There was no breeze, and the air was somewhat heavy. The Earl of Kempe lounged lazily in the green grass by Sybilla's side, gazing up at her admiringly while handing her fresh threads from her workbasket as she required them. He had made it quite clear to everyone in the de Marisco household that he was paying serious court to the young Lady Sybilla.

Sybilla pricked her finger and cried out. "Ohhh! How I dislike sewing, Mama! I shall be glad to go to court come the autumn." She snatched her hand away from Tom Ashburne, who was ardently kissing the injured digit.

"Sewing is a skill that every gentlewoman should possess, my dear," her mother told her. "What if some clumsy fellow should step on your gown and tear the hem from it? Your skill with a needle would enable you to quickly repair it, and you would not be thought a slattern."

"I have never learned to sew," Jasmine said, putting her book aside. "In India I had women to do such tasks for me."

"Do you never stop your ridiculous boasting?" Sybilla asked nastily. "You may have been a princess in India, but here you are nothing more than a common ba—" She stopped short, seeing the dangerous look in Jasmine's eyes, and smiled sweetly. "Well, we all know what you really are," she finished.

"I cannot understand how so sweet a mother could have raised so spiteful a shrew," Jasmine replied in equally sugary tones. "You must really be more careful, Sybilla dear. We all know what you really are. Your true colors are showing. You will surely frighten away my lord earl."

"I should adore my darling beauty if she were naught but a beggar maid," Tom Ashburne said gallantly.

"Well!" Sybilla huffed, rising to her feet and throwing down the cloth upon which she had been working. "I am not a beggar maid, my lord. I am related to the king. I am the only daughter of the Earl and Countess of BrocCairn. Do not ever forget it!" Then she dashed off into the depths of the gardens, the earl in pursuit, eager to make his apologies and regain a place in Sybilla's good graces.

"You should not bait her," Velvet admonished Jasmine.

"She should not take every opportunity to attack me," Jasmine replied. "I was not boasting about my life in India." Her face grew hard. "I will not allow her any latitude, Mama. Even Lord Gordon was good enough to speak with her, but she will not obey him either. If I continue to defend myself, perhaps she will eventually cease. She is my elder by six months, although I am certainly far more grown-up than Sybilla. I would like to try and be friends with her, but she will not let me. Her jealousy eats away at her, and you know it."

Velvet sighed deeply. "It is hard for her," she began, but Jasmine interrupted her.

"It is hard for me also!" she declared fiercely. "Why should it be so unusually difficult for Sybilla? She is in her native land, surrounded by a family who loves her. She has a noble suitor and aspires to go to court, where I doubt not she will find more hopeful swains.

"I am half a world away from my homeland. I have been torn from the mother who raised me and whom I love. I am bereft of both my husband and my father. I have lost my unborn child. It is, I think, far harder for me than for Sybilla, but I do not use my situation to try to hurt her.

"Why should she strike out at me because I am your child too? She is spoiled, and she is unpleasant, Mama. I will not allow her to slander me or my good name in her petulance! If she continues to do so, I will find a way to punish her, I promise you." Jasmine then arose and, with an angry swish of her skirts, returned to the house.

Velvet sighed again. She could not ever remember having been this uncomfortable in her entire life. Caught between her stepdaughter and Akbar's daughter, she was trying, though unsuccessfully, to keep the peace between the two girls. It was, however, a waste of her time. Jasmine, to Velvet's intense mortification, was correct in her assessment of Sybilla. She was behaving in a spoiled, unpleasant manner toward her stepsister. There was really no reason for her to do so. As each day passed, Sybilla grew more and more out of hand. No one, not Velvet herself, nor Alex, could reason with her, for her jealousy was, as Jasmine had so wisely observed, all-consuming.

Jasmine. Velvet smiled to herself. It was really very hard to think of that beautiful young woman as her daughter. There was so much of Akbar in her. I have missed so much, she thought sadly. Rugaiya Begum had done a wonderful job bringing up their shared child. Far better, Velvet considered guiltily, than I have done with Alanna Wythe's daughter. Although the two girls were the same age, Jasmine had far more poise, and certainly more elegance than Sybilla. Jasmine also had a highly eligible suitor in the person of the Marquess of Westleigh, although she pretended not to realize Rowan Lindley's intentions and did her best to ignore the handsome gentleman.

Alex, of course, was pleased to see the marquess's interest. "Good!" he had said to his wife. "We'll marry her off before the truth of her birth can cause us any embarrassment. Jasmine will be far more respectable as his marchioness than as Lady Gordon's bastard get."

It was then that Velvet had struck her surprised husband. "My daughter," she said in a low, tight voice, "is no bastard. Why, my lord, do you persist in this? This is why I cannot bring Sybilla to heel, and she continues her assault upon her stepsister."

He rubbed his cheek ruefully. "I dinna mean to offend you, sweetheart. I am trying to accept the girl, but she will nae give an inch, and I fear for Sibby. She hae her heart set upon Glenkirk, and the Leslies of Glenkirk are a proud clan. If James Leslie sniffs any hint of scandal around Sibby, he will nae even consider my proposal. 'Twould break my lass's heart."

Velvet sighed. If only she could get Sybilla and Jasmine to cooperate. If Jasmine said black, then Sybilla said white. Her stepdaughter was constantly baiting her daughter, who would not ignore the girl, but like a cobra, struck back with all her own venom. Sybilla did not seem to have the good sense to cease her vindictive behavior, but it had to stop before the autumn, when they went to court. If the girls did not stop their backbiting, a scandal was certain to ensue. Alex would be furious if his Sybilla lost her chance to marry Glenkirk.

"Why are you frowning so?" Skye asked her daughter as she came to join her. "Have Sybilla and Jasmine been quarreling again? My granddaughter returned to the house with an expression as dark as a thundercloud."

"I cannot seem to exercise any control over them," Velvet admitted wearily. "How can I take them to court if they continue to behave like two squabbling wildcats?"

"It is Sybilla's fault," Skye said bluntly.

"Jasmine gives back as good as she gets," Velvet replied, defending her stepdaughter.

"Sybilla begins the contretemps every time," Skye answered firmly.

"Where is she now?"

"Somewhere in the gardens with Tom Ashburne. He truly seems to adore her, but she will give him no quarter. She claims to want only Glenkirk, and yet I think she would be happier with Tom," Velvet told her mother. "He is warm, and amusing, and so devoted to her."

"What of Glenkirk? Tell me about him," Skye said, and she took the small low-backed chair previously occupied by Jasmine.

"I knew his mother briefly," Velvet began. "Next to you, Mama, she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Dark, honey-colored hair and leaf-green eyes. She was my senior by some eleven years. Like me, she had been betrothed in the cradle and pushed to the altar, for like me, she resisted her first husband Patrick Leslie."

"Did she love him?" Skye wondered aloud.

"Aye, Mama, she did. Unfortunately, the king interfered in their marriage, and it led to terrible unhappiness for them all. It was then that she fell in love with Alex's and the king's cousin, Francis Stewart-Hepburn, the Earl of Bothwell. She is his wife now. They live in Italy with their children, as Bothwell was banished by the king from Scotland.

"Her son, James Leslie, is the current Earl of Glenkirk. He married another of Alex's cousins, Isabelle Gordon. They had two sons. Five years ago Bella was enceinte with her third child when she paid a social call to a nearby convent where a cousin was a nun. While she was there, it was attacked by a large group of religious fanatics. These zealots had been terrorizing the countryside for weeks, targeting the old Kirk and its institutions. They were utterly merciless and set the convent aflame.

"Both of Bella's sons had accompanied her. They died in the fire. Bella herself was found within the smoking ruins of the convent's courtyard, violated and hacked to bits. About her were the bodies of all of the nuns. The youngest of them had been first raped, Mama, and then crucified. It was the most horrendous atrocity ever perpetrated in our region. Even the preachers of the new Kirk were outraged. What was worse was that afterward these fiends disappeared and were not heard from again.

"Jemmie Leslie was, as you can imagine, totally devastated by his tremendous loss. He and his clansmen rode the highlands for weeks afterward, but they could not find the criminals who had murdered his family and done those other dastardly deeds. It was as if the earth had opened up and swallowed them. Perhaps if he had been able to take his revenge, it would have helped purge the blackness from his soul. I have known him since I first came to Dun Broc. He and Bella were our nearest neighbors. After his family died, however, the gentle man with the delicious sense of humor that I knew turned into a cold, harsh creature. I hardly recognize him. Yet I cannot blame him."

"And he has never remarried," Skye said thoughtfully.

"Nay. His family has begged him to take another wife, but he will not. He has two Leslie brothers, both with children, who could succeed him. When Jamie became King of England, Glenkirk accompanied him south. It was something he would have never done if his family were alive. He serves as the king's unofficial minister of foreign trade for the New World and the East. 'Tis all he does these days, I am told. Work, work, and more work. 'Tis his life."

"Then why on earth does that silly chit Sybilla want him?" Skye demanded irritably. "He hardly sounds like a good catch to me."

"Sibby visited Glenkirk Castle with us when she was just a little girl," Velvet explained. "Jemmie was always particularly kind to her as he had no daughters and very much desired one. I think she fell in love with him when she was four. She believes that if he can just see her grown, he will fall in love with her. She thinks she can ease his grief and make him happy again. She is so very hopeful, Mama. She has prevailed on her father to pursue the matter, and frankly, Alex likes the idea of marrying his only daughter to Glenkirk. He loves her very much and it would mean he would not really lose her. He thinks if Jemmie had a new wife, he would return home to Glenkirk."

"And what do you think, Velvet?" Skye looked sharply at her youngest daughter. "Are Alex and Sibby wasting their time?"

Velvet's brow wrinkled as she considered the question. She nibbled upon her lower lip with little white teeth. Finally she said, "I am not certain, Mama. Have not you and I known love to conquer the worst of troubles? Yet Jemmie has lived five years with his grief and bitterness. He seems to grow harder with time rather than softer." She shrugged. "Perhaps Sibby can win him over. I do not know."

Skye nodded her understanding. "I hope the chit will not break her heart over the man. Though she be difficult and wickedly rude to my darling Jasmine, I cannot wish her ill."

"Mama," Velvet teased her mother gently with a smile, "I have never seen you so taken with a grandchild as you are with Jasmine."

"Aye," Skye admitted grudgingly. "I love the girl greatly, and I'll not deny it to please any! I thank God your father and I lived to see her." Skye chuckled. "Adam dotes on her almost as much as he doted upon you, Velvet. Jasmine delights him with tales of her childhood escapades. Did you know that she first went tiger hunting with her father when she was only three? And she learned to shoot at five? Musket and bow! And how that big blue and gold parrot of hers can make Adam laugh! Why, he's almost human with his talking. He has learned to imitate my voice, which drives Daisy wild. She is never certain if it is me calling or that wicked bird!"

"Jasmine will not remember it," Velvet said with a sad smile, "but Akbar took her tiger hunting when she was just an infant. I roasted him for it, as did Rugaiya Begum and Jodh Bai. Imagine taking a baby up upon his great fighting elephant! Ohh, Mama! I have lost so much!"

"Aye, you lost much with Jasmine, but 'twas not your fault," Skye sympathized. "And you have much with Alex in return. My poor Velvet, you were placed in a position I cannot envy any woman. Caught between two men you loved. Fate made the decision for you, and it has now all worked out for the best. You have all your children with you at last, and a husband who loves and adores you. You are certainly to be envied, Velvet!"

At that moment the Earl of BrocCairn exited the house and, walking across the lawns, called to his wife and mother-in-law. Velvet arose from her seat. She ran to him, holding her face up for a kiss, which he most willingly offered. Skye smiled. All her children had found love, and it made her happy to know that they were happy. Together the BrocCairns came to join her.

"You are going to hae company, madame," Alex Gordon informed his mother-in-law, and he bent to kiss her cheek.

Skye arose from her seat. "Who?" she demanded of him.

"The king."

"The king?" Skye was truly astounded. "Why on earth would James Stuart want to come to Queen's Malvern? Did you invite him? I most certainly do not want to entertain a king! God's nightshirt! It is the terror of every good family that the king should want to come and visit. It will cost us a fortune to entertain him! The lawns will be ruined! His retainers will eat us out of house and home! And nine months from the day, the housemaids will start giving birth to a flock of bastards, you mark my words, Alex Gordon!"

"The king comes incognito, madame. He brings with him but a body servant and one companion, the Earl of Glenkirk!" This last was said triumphantly.

"What does he want of us?" Skye asked suspiciously. "Why does he travel like a beggar instead of the king he is?"

"He wanted to come fishing," Alex said with a laugh. "So I invited him. He is nae like your old Queen Bess wi all her love of pomp and show. Jamie is on his summer progress, visiting a great house nearby. There are half a dozen masques planned for him and several banquets. The king is nae exceedingly fond of such things. The queen and Prince Henry will preside in his place. His hosts will be told he is abed with a summer flux of some sort or another. This will allow Jamie the opportunity to escape for a day or two of fishing. I have warned him Queen's Malvern cannot offer him the salmon that our icy, swift-flowing Scots rivers can, but he will be satisfied to fish for perch, rudd, and pike.

"He will also enjoy the peace of simple family life and plain meals. He doesna like food that is oversauced. The life you lead here at Queen's Malvern is more to his taste. He will be no trouble at all, belle-mère, and it will give me an opportunity to display our wee Sybilla to her best advantage before Glenkirk! 'Tis an excellent plan for him to get to know her again before she goes to court to serve the queen." He grinned, looking very pleased with himself.

"Perhaps," Velvet said, "it is a good idea that Jemmie Leslie renew his acquaintance with Sybilla under less formal circumstances."

"Humph!" her mother snorted. "She'll have no choice unless you intend to send her over to Blackthorne Hall or Pearroc Royale. Well, if she's to impress this Glenkirk, she had best sweeten her sour temper where Jasmine is concerned, Alex. They have fought again this day, and over nothing, as usual," Skye told her son-in-law.

"Perhaps, then, madame," he replied, "it would be better if you sent your granddaughter to Blackthorne Hall or Pearroc Royale. I will nae hae her spoiling my Sibby's chances wi Jemmie Leslie."

"Only Sybilla can do that," Skye told him sharply. Why was Alex so blind to Sybilla's faults? she wondered. " 'Tis she who starts these altercations, and well you know it. This is Jasmine's home. I do not intend to send her away from it to please any of you. Let Sybilla mind her manners for a change. 'Tis time she was forced to practice a little self-control. If she really wants to be the Countess of Glenkirk, she will have to. If battling with Jasmine means more to her, then so be it! Now, since you've invited the king, Alex Gordon, I'll take my leave of you. The entire house will need to be turned out to receive such a guest. When are we to expect him?"

"The day after tomorrow, madame," the Earl of BrocCairn replied.

"You have certainly given me a great deal of time to make my preparations, haven't you?" Skye answered him sarcastically, and turning, hurried back across the lawns into her house.

"I thought she would soften wi age," Alex Gordon said, bemused.

Velvet burst out laughing. "Whatever made you think that?"

After informing Adam of the impending royal visit, Skye gathered her servants together in the Family Hall and told them they would be receiving a very important guest in another day. "He comes to us in private," she said meaningfully, and only the densest of her retainers did not understand what she was telling them. Skye smiled, amused by the gasps of surprise. "He comes to fish for a day. None of you may leave the house until he departs. I want the entire house turned out and ready to receive him. Mrs. Bramwell," Skye addressed her housekeeper. "The four housemaids will do nicely. You need bring no others in from the village. Our guest comes with only one body servant and is accompanied by the Earl of Glenkirk and his servant. His visit is not official. I am happy to say we will not be burdened with half the court. He is to be accorded every respect, but prefers an informal way of life such as ours."

"Yes, m'lady," the housekeeper replied, relieved, but at the same time disapproving. What kind of a king was it who traveled without a great retinue and liked a simple country life? The old queen would have had none of such behavior if she had ever visited Queen's Malvern. Mrs. Bramwell was still entertained by the tales told by Lady de Marisco's tiring woman Daisy and her daughter Pansy, both of whom had been to court in the days of the great Elizabeth Tudor. Now there was a real monarch!

"Mrs. Garman."

The cook stepped forward. "Yes, m'lady?"

"Our guest likes good country food. Nothing is to be oversauced. I know that you should like to show off your great culinary skills, but please keep your menus simple and hearty."

The cook curtsied. "If that's what he wants, that's what he'll get, m'lady, but more's the pity, for I've several new recipes from France I've been wanting to try." Mrs. Garman looked very aggrieved.

"You may try them on us," Skye answered her, "once our guest has left. Our palates are not quite so finicky as the royal one is."

The house was in a frenzied state as the servants cleaned, swept, dusted, and polished everything they might lay their hands to. Even Violet, Velvet's old nurse, was called upon to arrange the flowers, for she had a great talent for such work, and because Velvet's sons, but for little Ned, were quite able to fend for themselves.

On the appointed day, the king's body servant rode ahead of his royal master to warn the de Mariscos of his lord's impending arrival.

"Shall I have the servants line up in the drive to meet his majesty, m'lady?" Bramwell, the majordomo, asked.

"Nay," Skye answered him. "The king would be incognito, and so we shall let him be."

Bramwell bowed himself from his mistress's presence.

"Well," said Daisy, "he sounds to me like a queer fellow, this Scots King of England. Old Queen Bess would have really had us jumping, and she did when she came to Lynmouth House, didn't she, m'lady?" Daisy tucked an errant lock of her lady's hair into place. "There, that's done!" She stood back and admired her handiwork.

Skye smiled into the mirror at her faithful tiring woman. "Aye, Bess always had us on our mettle, Daisy, but 'tis a new century, and with it, a new king. We're past our time, you and I."

"Yet yer going off to court come winter, aren't you?" Daisy said. "Well, you'll not go without me, m'lady!"

Skye arose and smoothed down the dark blue silk of her gown. "I go for Jasmine. She is the Mughal's daughter and must have every chance at happiness here in England."

"Seems to me," Daisy noted sagely, "that Mistress Jasmine is very happy right where she is. According to Toramalli and Rohana, yer granddaughter lived a country life in India. And that Marquess of Westleigh seems an eager enough suitor for all Mistress Jasmine pretends not to notice. She can see he's hot for her, and one day soon, I expect, she'll return his ardor. She's been widowed long enough. The women in this family don't like to be too long without a man."

"Daisy!" Skye laughed. "You are a shameless old biddy."

"I only tell the truth as I sees it," Daisy said with a chuckle.

There was a knock on the bedchamber door and Molly, an apple-cheeked maidservant, popped her head in. "The king is coming up the drive, m'lady. M'lord says ye'd best hurry."

"Indeed I had," Skye said, and hurried from the room, Daisy in her wake.

In the main hallway of the house, Skye found her daughter Velvet and son-in-law, their five sons, Sybilla, Jasmine, and Adam, all awaiting James Stuart. The gentlemen were garbed formally in black silk suits with starched white linen ruffs. Six-year-old Neddie looked as if he was strangling, his small fingers wedged between his neck and his collar. Velvet wore a silk gown the color of violets. Jasmine was in crimson.

It was obvious, however, that a great deal of care had been taken with Sybilla. Her gown of pale blue silk with its delicate lace embroidery made her look extraordinarily virginal. There was not a curl out of place, and she seemed to be enveloped in a cloud of lavender. Skye caught Adam's gaze, looked toward Sybilla and rolled her eyes. Lord de Marisco's cough sounded very much like laughter to those about him, but he maintained a dignified demeanor.

They watched through the open door of the house as their guests rode up. Seabert, the head groom, was waiting with Will and John, the two stablemen. Bowing politely to the king, the three men hurried the horses off as soon as the riders had dismounted. Skye and Adam then stepped through the door of the house to greet James Stewart. The king and his companions were garbed simply. Only their son-in-law's description of his kingly cousin allowed them to know him. Lady de Marisco curtsied low, even as her husband bowed gallantly.

As Skye arose, pleased that her left knee, which had gained a stiffness lately, had not failed her, she said, "Welcome to Queen's Malvern, Your Majesty. We are honored by your presence."

"Welcome, sire!" Adam echoed his wife's greeting.

The Earl of BrocCairn quickly stepped forward and bowed. "May I present my in-laws, sire? Your host and hostess, Lord and Lady de Marisco, the Earl and Countess of Lundy."

James Stuart smiled. The king had not inherited either his parents' great height or their unusual good looks. He was well-built, and of medium height. Although his legs were slightly bent from a childhood illness, he was not deformed, though when he walked, his steps were slightly uneven. His hair, the Stuart family red in his youth, was now turning reddish-brown in his fortieth year. He had a long face with a long nose and a small mouth, but his most compelling feature was his heavy-lidded amber eyes, which, whatever James's mood, seemed filled with an unfathomable sadness.

"I thank ye, Lord and Lady de Marisco, that ye would hae me, and on such short notice," the king said. "I am weary of all the folderol of the court, and a wee bit of fishing will soothe my soul. I'm told ye hae some wickedly large pike on yon river."

"Aye, sire," Adam returned. "You will not be disappointed, I am certain. May we offer you a bit of fresh baked bread, some of our ham and October ale? A man should not sport on an empty belly."

"Aye," the king agreed, and it was obvious he was pleased with the old Earl of Lundy's friendly, but respectful courtesy. Although he preferred a simpler lifestyle than he was ordinarily permitted, he never forgot his high position and insisted upon being treated with the courtesy and respect he believed a king deserved. James was glad he had come.

They reentered the house, and the Earl of BrocCairn presented his sons and daughter. The boys were in open awe of the monarch, while Sybilla blushed and simpered prettily, to James's pleasure.

"And who is this lovely lassie, Alex?" the king asked, coming abreast of Jasmine.

"My stepdaughter, Mistress Jasmine de Marisco, my liege," Alex said in even tones.

"My daughter from a previous marriage, sire," Velvet put in.

"You will undoubtedly be interested to know that my granddaughter is the youngest daughter of the late emperor of India, Akbar," Skye said briskly. "She has only just arrived in England this past winter. Her father, as you know, died almost a year ago. She has been widowed almost two years. In India she was known as Yasaman Kama Begum. She chose to Anglicize her name, which means Jasmine, and take our surname for her own. It is less confusing. Perhaps at dinner we may entertain you with her miraculous tale."

"Ahh, aye," the king said, a trifle confused, but willing to accept this rather formidable lady's word. Still, his mind stretched back over the years. He seemed to remember that the beautiful Countess of BrocCairn came a maiden to her husband. Was his memory failing him? The king thought not. He would indeed be interested in Lady de Marisco's story.

"Run along, children," Adam said. Then he turned to the king. "Will Your Majesty introduce us to your traveling companion?" he inquired politely.

"Och," the king replied. "I hae almost forgot ye were wi me, Jemmie. This is the Earl of Glenkirk. He's a quiet fellow, aren't ye, Jemmie? I like to hae him wi me because he doesna talk me to death as so many others do."

The Earl of Glenkirk nodded with a brief, amused smile. Then he bowed to Adam and kissed Skye's hand. "Thank ye for having me," he said.

Velvet pushed forward and kissed James Leslie's cheek. "It has been a long time, Jemmie," she said quietly. "We miss you at home."

"There is naught for me at Glenkirk now, Velvet. I live my life best serving my king," was the quiet reply.

Velvet drew Sybilla forth. The girl's blue eyes were wide with admiration and adoration. "I will wager you do not remember our daughter Sybilla, Jemmie. She has become quite a fine young lady and will go to court this winter to serve the queen. Your friendship would mean much to her, I know. Court is a frightening place when you are new to it, and young, and inexperienced," Velvet said, her voice brimming with maternal concern. "I remember my own days there."

James Leslie's eyes flickered dispassionately over Sybilla. He gave her a small, wintery smile, even as he kissed her hand. "You, of course, have my friendship, Lady Sybilla," he told the blushing girl politely. Then he turned away from her before Sybilla even had a chance to speak, looking directly at Jasmine. "Will you introduce me to your other daughter, Velvet?"

"This is Jasmine de Marisco, Jemmie," Velvet said nervously. It was not going at all as they had imagined it would.

Glenkirk kissed the elegant little hand offered to him. His green-gold eyes stared directly into Jasmine's turquoise eyes. "Madame," was all he said, but his look said far more. Even Sybilla noticed it.

"How could you?" she demanded of Jasmine shortly afterward, when the gentlemen had gone off to the river to fish. She was near to tears, and she stamped her little foot, as she often did when she was angry.

"What can I possibly have done to displease you now?" Jasmine said irritably. "Please, Sybilla, let us not quarrel while the king is here. We promised Grandmother we would not."

Sybilla stamped her foot again. "I saw how you looked at the Earl of Glenkirk, you low-bred hussy! He is mine! I will not have you with your exotic, whorish ways flirting with the man I am to marry. If you so much as speak to him again, I shall tear your heart out! Do you understand me? Do you understand me?" Her voice rose in dramatic intensity, and her pretty face grew red with anger.

"Ohh, Sybilla, what a little fool you are," Jasmine replied impatiently, her own anger giving an edge to her voice. "I could hardly look away from the earl when he was introduced to me. There was nothing in my look but dispassionate curiosity. I would be more careful of how I spoke, stepsister. Your father has not yet broached the subject of a match between you and the earl. What if you were overheard by the earl's servant and he spoke with his master? You yourself could ruin everything you hope for, and then what would you do, Sybilla?" Jasmine wisely ignored the girl's remarks about her background. She knew who she was.

"Jasmine is correct, dearest," Velvet said, agreeing with her daughter. "You simply must learn to master both your temper and your tongue."

"And high time too," Skye put in.

Sybilla's lower lip began to tremble. Her beautiful blue eyes filled with tears of self-pity. "You are all against me," she declared. "Only Papa understands me!" Sybilla sobbed dramatically.

"God's nightshirt!" Skye exploded. "The wench should be smacked!"

"No one is against you, Sybilla," her mama said in rather sharp tones. "You are anxious about Lord Leslie, to be sure, but you must not take out your apprehensions on those who love you. I wonder if indeed you are old enough to marry. Your behavior is most childish."

As evening approached, Skye sat with her granddaughter Jasmine in her own day room and again considered Lady Sybilla Gordon.

"I hope Alex will approach the Earl of Glenkirk quickly," Skye said. "If Sybilla wants him, 'twould be just as well to see her married off to the fellow as soon as possible. Why go to the expense and the trouble of sending her to court?"

"And if she were married and back in Scotland," Jasmine teased her grandmother, "you would not have to be bothered with her at Queen's Malvern ever again, eh, Grandmother?"

" 'Tis truth, my darling girl, that you utter," Skye admitted. "I have never been able to warm to the wench. As a little one she was always demanding of Velvet's entire attention, even when Velvet's elder lads were small and Velvet enceinte with another of them. Sybilla could hardly bear to be out of her sight. She has ever been her mama's girl, a whining, troublesome chit of a creature. Velvet has overcoddled her out of a sense of both pity and guilt."

"She does not look like Lord Gordon," Jasmine noted.

"She looked more like him as a child," Skye said. "I expect she resembles the creature who bore her, the silversmith's bold wench."

"Do you think I looked at Lord Leslie in a flirtatious manner, Grandmama? Since I would just as soon be rid of Sybilla also, I do not want to ruin her chances with the gentleman," Jasmine said with a mischievous smile.

"I think it was Lord Leslie who looked at you with interest in those fathomless green eyes of his," Skye replied. "You are most extravagantly beautiful, my darling girl. Sybilla is a pretty thing, but she cannot hold a candle to you. Alas, I think she knows it."

"Oh dear," Jasmine fretted.

Skye laughed. "As long as you do not encourage him, my darling girl, you cannot be blamed for whatever happens."

"I do not wish anything to happen," Jasmine declared vehemently. "It is bad enough that the Marquess of Westleigh has been a constant visitor every few weeks since spring. Why will no one understand that I simply want to be left alone to myself? I have been quite happy since I came to England last winter, Grandmama. I have a family, and I am safe."

"And that is enough?" Skye asked.

"For now it is, Grandmama. When I left India almost a year ago, I was heartbroken and quite devastated by the events surrounding my departure. The husband I loved was dead at my beloved brother's behest. My father was close to death. But now that time and distance have had their effect upon me, Grandmama," Jasmine said, "I find that I both want and need time to enjoy life before I must settle down to being a wife and mother again. Can you understand that? I know I must eventually remarry, but not now."

Skye nodded. "I understand," she reassured Jasmine.

"Sybilla, on the other hand," Jasmine continued, "very much desires to be married to the Earl of Glenkirk. Perhaps I can help her in a roundabout way. I think I shall have my dinner in my room tonight. I find that after the strain of today, my head is aching fiercely."

Skye chuckled. "You are indeed anxious to be relieved of your stepsister's company, my darling girl, but I will not have her driving you from your own board."

"She is not, Grandmama," Jasmine replied, "but I do fret her. She cannot seem to help herself. She will be at her best if I am not there. Perhaps she will even impress the Earl of Glenkirk enough that he will consider Lord Gordon's proposal. Everyone is correct when they say that Sybilla must make a good impression on Lord Leslie before she goes to court. It will be far harder there for her to attract his attention if the English court is anything like my father's court was. It was a noisy, gossipy, busy place."

"Royal courts are royal courts the world over," Skye said. "Very well, darling girl, you may absent yourself from the board tonight that Sybilla have an opportunity to shine before the object of her desire. It is unfortunate that she will neither understand nor appreciate your motives. You are far more generous to her than she to you."

Jasmine's absence was duly noted that evening, but Skye's explanation was so easily given that no one thought any more on it. Mrs. Garman, the cook, had done her very best to follow her mistress's instructions. The meal was a simple, hearty one which began with some excellent perch that had been caught that very afternoon by the visitors to Queen's Malvern. The fish had been delicately broiled and were served with dill and lemon. There was also a large dish of mussels that had been steamed in white wine until their shiny black shells had opened. There was a single side of beef that had been packed in rock salt and roasted over a slow fire; a large game bird pie with rich wine-flavored gravy oozing from its crisp golden crust; and a platter of lamb chops. There were turnips and fresh peas, fresh bread, crocks of sweet butter, and a wheel of sharp, hard cheese. October ale and a rich red wine were served to drink.

"Madame," the king said as he wiped his mouth prior to digging into a second serving of plum tartlet, "ye keep a verra fine table, to be sure. I canna remember when I hae enjoyed a meal last as much as I hae enjoyed this meal. My compliments to your cook."

"Would it be too much trouble, Your Majesty," Skye said, "if I ask Mrs. Garman to come out of her kitchens that Your Majesty might tell her yourself. She is a simple country woman who would never, in her wildest dreams, have expected to serve Your Majesty. 'Twould be a rare moment she would treasure for the rest of her life."

"Aye," the king said expansively. "Bring the lady before me that I may praise her most excellent skills."

Mrs. Garman was called for and, accompanied by Bramwell, the majordomo, came from her kitchens, flushed, beaming, and quite nervous. She curtsied so low before James that Skye feared the poor woman would be unable to arise without tumbling back upon her well-padded posterior, but Bramwell, one hand beneath the lady's elbow, guided her successfully to her feet again.

"A verra fine meal, good lady," James Stuart said. "I canna remember ever having eaten a better one."

" 'Tis a pleasure to cook for Yer Majesty," Mrs. Garman replied. She was then escorted out and returned to her kitchens to tell Priss and Mary, the kitchen maids, and little Wat, the knife boy, that though she could barely understand the king, for he spoke with a very thick tongue, he was a most fine gentleman indeed.

When the meal had been cleared away, Skye cleared her throat, saying, "I will now tell Your Majesty of how my granddaughter Jasmine came into this family."

"Twill nae be necessary," the king replied. "Lady Sybilla herself told both Jemmie and me before dinner the whole sad tale. Velvet, my dear, yer a brave lass, but then I always knew that ye were," the king said with a warm smile at the Countess of BrocCairn.

"Just what did Lady Sybilla tell you, sire?" Skye asked pointedly of the king, and she sent both her daughter and son-in-law a fierce look.

Alex Gordon was visibly white about the lips, while his daughter Sybilla wore the pleased expression of a cat that had just cornered a plump mouse. The girl's look was, in fact, such a look of pure triumph that Skye wanted to slap her.

The king looked quite confused. He could not understand what was wrong.

The Earl of Glenkirk came to his monarch's aid, saying, "Lady Sybilla has explained to us how her mother was kidnapped years ago and forced into a shameful, carnal bondage, during which captivity she was forced to bear a child which she gladly left behind upon her rescue. Indeed, we have been told that Lady Gordon was so ashamed of this tawdry incident in her life that she did not even tell Alex. Lady Sybilla has elaborated on how this child, now grown, came to England and forced herself upon the good natures and good hearts of Lord and Lady de Marisco. Is that not so?"

"No, my lord, it is not so. What Sybilla has told you is an outrageous fabrication," Skye said quietly, although those about her who knew her realized that those well-controlled tones represented just the merest tip of her outrage.

Sybilla, however, unwisely arose and cried out, "It is true! I have not lied!"

"Leave this table and go to your room," Skye told the girl. "At once!"

"Jasmine seeks only to ruin my life!" Sybilla wept uncontrollably, obviously overwrought.

Skye turned to her horrified majordomo. "Bramwell, escort Lady Sybilla from the hall," she ordered. Her gaze swung to her son-in-law, the Earl of BrocCairn. "I hold you entirely responsible for your daughter's behavior, my lord. You will send her home to Dun Broc tomorrow. I will no longer have her in my house."

Velvet cast a beseeching look toward her father. "Papa," she pleaded weakly.

"I am in entire accord with your mother, Velvet," Adam said.

"What is wrong?" the king asked, finally finding his voice.

"Lady Sybilla has lied to Your Majesty," Skye replied.

"Lied? To me? To her king?" James Stuart looked astounded, as if such a thing were not possible.

"Jamie, I apologize for my lass," Alex Gordon said, shamefaced. "Please forgive Sibby and allow my belle-mère to explain."

"Madame, enlighten us, if ye will," the king said, now fully recovered from his surprise and quite curious to know what was really going on. "This situation is strange, most strange indeed."

"Once, Elizabeth Tudor and I were friends," Skye began, "and then I was a thorn in her side, but that is another tale altogether."

"Do ye nae then believe in the divine right of kings, madame?" the king demanded, interrupting. His divine royal rights were a very sore point with James Stuart, who strongly believed in them and in himself.

"Aye, Your Majesty, I do," Skye said with a small twinkle in her Kerry-blue eyes, "but Elizabeth Tudor was a queen, not a king."

James Stuart stared at Lady de Marisco, and then understanding dawned in his amber eyes. "Heh! A queen, and not a king!" he chortled. "Heh! Heh! Heh! 'Tis a fine jest, madame. A verra fine jest indeed. Heh! Heh!"

The atmosphere about the table was more visibly relaxed now as Skye took up the thread of her tale. She spoke movingly of that time so many years ago when all their destinies had been changed by Elizabeth Tudor's seemingly innocent demand that she and Adam mount a trading expedition to India. Skye chose her words carefully in order to protect both her beloved daughter and granddaughter, that James might understand not just their plight, but also the difficulty presented to the Indian emperor when Velvet's uncle had come to take her home.

"Velvet tells me Akbar was a most moral man who had studied all the world's religions. There were even Jesuits at this court, and their daughter was baptized a Christian," Skye told them.

"When the Mughal learned that Alex was alive, there was no question that Velvet must be returned. Alex, however, had only been her husband for a few months. Akbar had been her husband for almost two years, and they shared a child.

"The Mughal would not compromise his principles. Since she would not go willingly, she was drugged and removed forcibly. She was not allowed to take her child, for the Mughal knew of the prejudice practiced in Western lands. He knew there were those who would call his daughter base-born, yet under the laws of the land in which she was born, the land to which she was native, she was not only true-born, but a royal Mughal princess as well."

"Aye," James Stuart agreed, "of course she would be. I can find no fault wi this reasoning, though I know some would."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Velvet said, her eyes bright with unshed tears. The king might be called "the wisest fool in Christendom," but he was really quite intelligent and had a kind heart. He had fully understood her plight.

"Unfortunately, Sybilla Gordon, whom Alex fathered and legitimatized, and whom my daughter has raised with love, is wildly jealous of her stepsister. We have remonstrated with her, but to no avail, sire."

"The lass needs to be beaten," the king said. "A good beating and a diet of bread and water will bring any recalcitrant child to its senses, Lady de Marisco. Now, I think, I will seek my bed. The fish are up early, as ye must know."

When the king had left the hall in the company of Lord Leslie, Skye and her family sat back down at the high board, the wine cups were refilled, and they discussed the evening past.

"I meant it when I said Sybilla is to return to Dun Broc on the morrow," Skye told her son-in-law.

"I'll nae argue wi you over that," Alex Gordon said. "She behaved shamefully and is obviously nae fit for civilized company. Let her cool her heels at Dun Broc until late autumn. Then she must return to England to go to court. She hae been promised a place amongst Queen Anne's maids, and we canna renege now."

"She will be heartbroken to be sent home," Velvet ventured, her soft heart going out to the daughter she had raised.

"She hae brought it all upon herself," Alex said harshly. "Perhaps Jamie is right. Perhaps I should gie her a good beating as well. She surely deserves it."

"Mama!" the Countess of BrocCairn cried softly to her mother.

"No, Velvet, she cannot stay," Skye said in answer to the unspoken question, "though I realize what Sybilla did was out of her fear that her stepsister was proving more attractive to Lord Leslie than she. Had I not been so angry, I should have laughed at the Earl of Glenkirk's recital of Sybilla's tale. He was obviously quoting her very words. ‘Carnal bondage'? ‘Tawdry incident'?" Skye laughed.

"The lass must learn to live wi the consequences of her actions," the Earl of BrocCairn said angrily. "Ye hae spoiled her, Velvet."

"I have spoiled her?" Velvet looked positively outraged. "I was not the only one who spoiled her, Alex Gordon! You have ever doted on the child. 'Tis not I who have filled her head full of Gordon history and how she is related to the king. I am responsible in part for what she has become, but you must accept your responsibility in this matter as well."

"Cease your bickering," Skye sharply ordered them both. "Nothing will come of it. You are Sybilla's parents. It is up to you to make her see the error of her ways. You had best warn her that this sort of behavior will not be tolerated by her majesty Queen Anne. If she does not wish to lose her place at court and disgrace her family, she will behave herself."

The Gordons of BrocCairn left the Great Hall of Queen's Malvern and found their way to their apartment. There upon their bed lay Sybilla, sleeping, her pretty face tearstained.

"Oh, Alex!" Velvet whispered, her soft heart touched.

"I'll nae be moved," he whispered back, "and I'll nae allow you to be." He gave her hand an encouraging squeeze and then said in a hard voice, "Sybilla! Wake up! Yer mother and I would hae words wi ye."

The girl slowly sat up, her blue eyes wide. "Did you speak to Glenkirk about a match between us?" Sybilla asked. "What did he say? Will he have me to wife? Ohhh, Papa! Is he not the most handsome man in the whole world?"

Alex Gordon felt a shiver go down his spine. How was it possible, he wondered, that Sybilla was suddenly so like Alanna Wythe, the woman who had birthed her? Sibby certainly was exhibiting the same selfishness that Alanna had always shown. The Earl of BrocCairn shook his head wearily and said to his daughter, "I most certainly didna speak wi Glenkirk, Sibby. Can ye nae understand? Ye hae behaved quite badly and brought shame upon both yer mother's family and my own. No man would want a wife who did that. Perhaps if ye shine in Queen Anne's service when yer at court, however, ye will make a favorable impression upon him. Then I may finally suggest a match between ye."

" 'Tis not fair," Sybilla Gordon whined. " 'Tis not fair that I suffer because of that Jasmine. This is all her fault!"

"Nay, lass, 'tis yer fault," her father said harshly. "Ye cannot blame Jasmine for this. Now ye hae best find yer own bed and get some sleep. Ye leave at dawn for Dun Broc."

"Mama!" Sybilla clutched Velvet. "Please don't send me away! Oh, please do not!"

"You must accept your just punishment with better grace than this, Sybilla," Velvet said, smoothing the girl's hair.

"The matter is settled, lass," Alex told his daughter. "Now gie us a kiss and go to bed."

"I will not!" Sybilla said, and stamping her foot, she turned and ran from the room.

"Oh, Alex! What are we to do with her?" Velvet groaned.

"Stand firm, sweetheart," he told her. "Sybilla is out of hand, and I am ashamed I dinna see it before now—before she hurt Skye and Adam."

"And Jasmine too," Velvet said.

"Jasmine," the Earl of BrocCairn said slowly. "Now there's another problem to solve."

"Perhaps with Sybilla returned home to Dun Broc," Velvet suggested, "you will be able to get to know her better."

"Aye," the earl said absently. "Perhaps." And he gave his wife a kiss.