EPILOGUE

"Gone? I do not understand you, madame. What do you mean gone?"

Skye O'Malley de Marisco looked at the Earl of Glenkirk and thought he was an extraordinarily handsome man, with his midnight-black hair and his green-gold eyes. It was obvious that he had stopped somewhere nearby to change from his traveling clothes into this more elegant black velvet suit with its gorgeous lace collar. The earl had come dressed for courting. He carried a bunch of colorful spring blooms in his hand, and she reached for them now, fearful that he was going to squeeze the life from their stems. Skye took the flowers and handed them to her tiring woman, Daisy Kelly.

"Put these in water, Daisy, and make certain that we are not disturbed by anyone."

"Yes, m'lady," Daisy said, and bobbed a creaky curtsey. Then, unable to resist, she whispered to her mistress, " 'Tis just like the old days, m'lady, isn't it? Except now 'tis Mistress Jasmine causing all the difficulty, and not you."

Skye swallowed her laughter and shooed her old servant off. She then sought to compose herself before turning to face the earl.

"Where is Jasmine?" James Leslie demanded once again.

"She has gone, my lord, as I have previously told you," Skye said calmly.

"Gone where?" he pressed her.

"I do not know," Skye replied blandly.

"God's boots!" Anger darkened the earl's handsome face, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

Seated in a large comfortable chair, Lord de Marisco felt a pang of sympathy for James Leslie. Adam certainly knew how aggravating the women in his family could be when they chose to be, and at this moment Jasmine had chosen to be particularly difficult. Slowly sipping Archambault wine, Adam remained silent for the moment, allowing his wife to handle the situation. One of the nice things about being old, he thought, was the fact that one did not have to get involved if one chose not to be involved.

"Where is Lord Stuart?" the Earl of Glenkirk finally managed to say. "The child is legally in my charge, madame."

"Viscount Lundy is with his mother," Skye answered quietly. "You would hardly expect my granddaughter to go traveling without her children, my lord, would you?"

"She has deliberately disobeyed the king!" James Leslie shouted. "This is treason, madame! You are obviously a party to it!"

"Nonsense!" Skye retorted briskly. "You are distraught, my lord, and overreacting to the situation, I fear."

"Your granddaughter, promised in marriage to me by the king, has gone traveling, but you do not know where?" James Leslie said through gritted teeth. "She has removed the king's grandson from this place, and taken the lad, my legal charge, with her, and you believe that my outrage is an overreaction, madame? I think not, Lady de Marisco. I think not! It is indeed treason to disobey the king's direct command."

"I disobeyed a greater queen than this king," Skye said with emphasis. "I am here to tell the tale, my lord. Do not raise your voice to me in my house again! Now sit down, James Leslie. I am no longer as young as I once was, though it aggravates me to admit it. I prefer to sit. I will not have you towering over me, glowering darkly. Take some wine to calm your irritation, and bring me some as well. My nerves are frayed with all this shouting."

Skye sat down next to her husband, giving him a mischievous wink which caused him to chuckle. As angry as James Leslie was, Adam thought, Skye would not long be able to play the frail old woman with him. He was no fool, this young Scots earl; and Skye was too used to being in charge of her world. Whether James Leslie knew it or not, he was now very much a part of Skye O'Malley de Marisco's world.

The earl poured the wine as she had bid him. His hands were shaking with his anger. He swore softly beneath his breath as he spilled some of the wine upon the silver tray where the goblets and the decanter were set. He swallowed down a mouthful of the liquid to calm himself, and then, turning, he walked across the room to give Lady de Marisco a goblet before sitting down opposite her.

"Why has Jasmine gone ‘traveling'?" he asked.

"She yet mourns Henry Stuart," Skye said truthfully. "She does not wish to remarry at this time, my lord. You were wrong to encourage the king to arrange it so. Jasmine is a king's daughter, raised in a royal court. She prefers to make her own decisions. You took that right away from her when you, and the king, settled her future and that of her children between you, without even asking her opinion in the matter. She took back her rights when she decided to depart Queen's Malvern. I do not thank you for that, my lord. This is my granddaughter's home. My husband and I are no longer young, and having Jasmine with us has been the joy of our old age. Your actions have taken that from us also."

"I love her," the earl said. "I have for years. I simply did not want to lose her again, madame. I did not encourage the king to any match, I swear it! He asked me to oversee his grandson's raising, as is the custom in Scotland for royal Stuarts. It was the queen, romantic fool she is, who decided that Jasmine and I should marry.

"I have been widowed for eleven years now, madame, and my brothers, even though they might take my earldom if I died, do not want it. Neither do their sons. They would have to leave Scotland, you see, and they love it too much to do so. They have been petitioning the queen to find me a wife. When King James decided to appoint me Lord Charles Frederick Stuart's governor, the queen determined that they could kill two birds with one stone by not just putting their grandson in my charge, but by marrying me to Jasmine as well. They have no idea at all that I love her. I had resolved to court her when she had composed her life once more."

"Then why did you press her with this April first date?" Skye asked him gently, feeling a bit more disposed toward the earl now. Impatience was such a charming, yet irritating, trait in a lover, she thought to herself.

" 'Twas not my idea, madame," the earl replied. " 'Twas Jasmine's. If she had but spoken honestly with me, I would have been willing to wait until she had mourned the prince a full year. Then we might have planned our wedding for the following spring, or summer. I would have given her a reasonable amount of time, madame. Truly I would have!"

A small smile touched Skye's lips. "There was one thing that Henry Stuart loved in particular about Jasmine," Skye told him. "She could always make him laugh. My granddaughter has, I fear, a rather wicked sense of humor, my lord. She has certainly played a very fine jest upon you."

Understanding suddenly awoke in James Leslie's green-gold eyes. "I have been made quite the April fool, madame, haven't I?" he said, a little smile erasing the grim line of his mouth.

"I am afraid so, my lord," she answered him, and a giggle escaped Skye. She simply could not help it.

James Leslie, however, was also a man with a sense of humor. He chuckled for a moment at himself. Then he said, "Where is she, madame? I beg you tell me where she has gone."

"I cannot, my lord," Skye told him. "I have given my word, and I have never knowingly or willingly broken that word once given."

Before the earl might protest, Adam de Marisco finally spoke up. "Have you been to France lately, my lord?" he asked. " 'Tis a most magnificent land. My mother was French. The wine you drink comes from the family vineyards at Archambault in the Loire Valley. Beautiful place!"

The Earl of Glenkirk arose. He bowed solemnly to Adam and said quietly, "Thank you, my lord." Taking Skye's hand up, he kissed it. "I admire your ethics, madame. They are to be commended." Then he looked again to Adam and asked, "Why, my lord?"

"I did not give my word," Adam de Marisco said, his deep blue eyes twinkling.

The Earl of Glenkirk smiled broadly, appreciating the subtlety, and then he said, "I will find her. I swear it!"

"Finding her is the easy part," Adam told him wisely. "Remember, James Leslie, that I once courted her grandmother, and a fine chase my Skye gave me before she was willing to settle down and behave herself."

"I have never behaved myself," Skye O'Malley declared vehemently. "You would have been bored silly, Adam, if I had."

The Earl of Lundy laughed, his deep laughter filling the room. "Aye, little girl, I probably would have," he admitted. Then he looked to James Leslie again. "Godspeed, my lord, but be warned, take nothing for granted where the women of this family are concerned. They are devious, but well worth the battle if you can but gain the victory."

The earl nodded, and then, bowing, departed Queen's Malvern.

"Do you think he'll find her?" Adam wondered. "After all, I did not tell him she is at Belles Fleurs. I only mentioned Archambault."

"He will find her eventually," Skye answered with certainty. "He is a most determined young man, my darling, and he loves her."

"But will she marry him, I wonder?" Adam replied.

"One day, I think," Skye said, "but not right away," and then she began to laugh. "God's nightshirt, Adam! I regret not one single moment of my life, not even the hard parts, but by God 'tis good now to sit by the fire, a goblet in my hand, watching the antics of our descendants! These are the best compensations of age, I think."

"Nay, little girl, not the best. The best of it all is being here with you," Adam de Marisco declared, and reaching out, he took his wife's hand in his, kissing it as their eyes locked and their hearts soared as one, even as they always had. This was everything good, the Earl of Lundy decided happily. He could but pray God that their darling wild Jasmine one day find the same contentment and happiness in her life as he and Skye had found in theirs.