Chapter Sixteen #2
“She is a grown woman,” the duke said. “I will gain her word of honor that she will wait for the Cardiff Rose to take her next year, darling Jasmine. I want you back at Glenkirk. If you and Autumn remain here, my wee lass will forget me again. I cannot stay, and leave Patrick alone so much. He needs our guidance if he is to one day take my place. You must come home.”
“Nay, my Jemmie, I must stay. Once Fortune is gone from me, when shall I see her ever again? Autumn is just going to be two. Go back to Glenkirk in September, and come back to us before Christmastide. Patrick is a man now, and can manage alone without you. Can you go back to Scotland at summer’s end knowing you will never again see Fortune?
We need you with us, my love. ‘Tis only a few months.”
He acquiesced as she had known he would.
The summer came, and in late August the duke of Glenkirk returned to Scotland, promising to come back in December.
Charlie had joined them over the summer.
Now he returned to court to support the king in his never-ending battle with the Puritans.
They were growing stronger every year, and openly disapproved of everything about the king, and his French Catholic queen, despite the fact she had already borne her husband and the kingdom four children, of which three were living, two being boys, and was again expecting a child.
Even the baptism of each prince and princess in England’s church did not satisfy them.
Parliament had been dissolved several years prior, but the Puritans still grew more difficult and condemning of the king.
In October a gentleman came riding up to the front entry of Queen’s Malvern. He introduced himself as Sir Christian Denby, and told them he had just inherited a small estate nearby.
“I did not know that Sir Morton Denby had a son,” the duchess remarked, taking in the measure of the young man before her. He was dressed quite simply and severely in black with a starched white collar.
“He did not, madame. I am his brother’s younger son. Uncle was generous enough to leave Oakley to me, as my elder brother will inherit our father’s holdings one day. Having come to inspect my estate, I thought I would call upon my neighbors.”
“I am sorry my son, the duke of Lundy, is not here to meet you, Sir Christian,” Jasmine said. “His uncle, the king, requires him at court much of the year. I am the duchess of Glenkirk, and this is my daughter, Lady Lindley.”
Sir Christian bowed, then accepted a small goblet of wine offered him by Adali.
“You live here, madame?” The query was bold, but Jasmine chose to be amused rather than offended.
Obviously this young man was attempting to get the lay of the land.
He could only do so directly as he was not familiar with the surrounding area.
“Only in the summer months, sir. My home is in Scotland, but my daughter has been here while her husband is in the New World. Since she cannot join him until next year I have decided to remain with her and her infant. I have brought my youngest child with me for she is too young to be separated from her mam. And your wife, sir? She is with you?”
“I have not yet had the pleasure of connubial bliss, madame,” he told her, and Fortune swallowed back a giggle.
“Finding a wife in this day and age is not an easy task. I wish a lady who will be content to remain in the country. She must be godly in her devotions, modest in her dress and speech, obedient to my will, able to run my household properly, give me well-mannered sons and daughters, and have a respectable dowry. I find many of today’s young women irreverent, flighty, and far too bold. ”
“You are a Puritan then,” Jasmine said pleasantly.
“I am,” he replied half-defiantly, as if he expected her to render some sort of criticism.
“We are Anglican,” Jasmine noted.
“Your husband is in the Virginias?” Sir Christian turned to Fortune, who had Aine in her lap at that moment.
“Mary’s Land, sir,” Fortune said.
“The Catholic colony? The king should have never allowed such a thing, and would not have but for the wicked intrigues of his queen and her friends! Your husband is a Catholic then.”
“My husband is a Catholic,” Fortune replied, “but Mary’s Land is a place where all men and women of good will may live in peace. Most of its colonists are Protestants, sir.”
“So they would have you believe, madame, but we know the truth. Lord Baltimore hopes to invade the Virginias, and gain them for the Spanish who are his allies,” Sir Christian said venomously.
Fortune laughed aloud. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, sir. You are a fool to listen to such rumors, and it is wrong to repeat such false gossip.”
“Then why, madame, if I may be so bold, are you not with your husband?” Her antagonist’s black eyes were brazenly questioning.
“Because, sir, there is currently no decent housing for us. I go in the spring, by which time that situation will be remedied.”
Sir Christian looked at Aine. Reaching out he tipped her tiny chin up. “Your babe will be raised a Catholic?”
Aine took one look at the man and burst into tears.
“Take your hand off my daughter, sir,” Fortune said quietly, and then she comforted the baby softly.
“We are pleased to have met you, sir,” the duchess said, dismissing Sir Christian as politely as she could.
He arose. “How can you allow your own grandchild to be raised a Catholic?” he said low.
“You are, sir, far too brazen with your queries, and out of your depth, I fear,” the duchess of Glenkirk said.
With a sketchy bow Sir Christian Denby left the hall.
Aine had at last stopped crying. “What an unpleasant man,” Fortune remarked. “I hope we do not have to see him again.”
Autumn Leslie celebrated her second birthday at the end of October.
Jasmine and Fortune then journeyed two days overland to Cadby to meet the young woman Henry Lindley was considering as a wife.
He would not tell his mother her name, teasing her in their correspondence that it was to be a surprise.
And indeed it was. Henry Lindley had chosen for his bride Cecily Burke, daughter of Lord Burke of Clearfields, his mother’s uncle.
Cecily was three years younger than Henry; a beautiful young woman with her father’s dark hair, and the family’s blue-green eyes.
She was Padraic’s and Valentina’s youngest daughter.
“But how …?” his mother queried Henry, truly surprised.
“I know,” he said. “We hadn’t met since we were children at some great party at Queen’s Malvern.
I went to court last winter at Charlie’s behest, and there was Cecily, a maid-of-honor to the queen because she speaks such perfect French.
I fear, Mama, it was love at first sight.
I have been to Clearfields several times, and Cecily and her family have been here at Cadby a number of times. ”
“And you never told me!” Jasmine didn’t know if she should be angry or not, but Fortune laughed.
“Why Henry, I should have never taken you for a romantic,” she teased her big brother.
“Ohh, Cousin,” Cecily said quickly, “he is most romantic!”
They all laughed at the ingenuous remark by the bride-to-be.
“Uncle,” Jasmine turned to Padraic Burke, “could you not have said something? You are still capable of writing, and do not look either infirm or slow of wit to me.”
“What was I to say?” Lord Burke demanded.
“I could be certain of nothing until this son of yours asked my permission. He was quite concerned because they are cousins, but they are not first cousins, and so I feel the consanguinity is of little import. But tell me, Niece, what your opinion is on this matter?”
“I am content with my son’s choice, although actually Cecily and I belong to the same generation, Uncle, for you are my mother’s older brother,” Jasmine noted.
Cecily Burke laughed, and her eyes twinkled. “Then,” she said mischievously, “the children Henry and I have will be his generation, will they not, madame?”
“God’s blood!” the marquess of Westleigh said, which caused his family to burst into great laughter.
A party was held to celebrate the betrothal, and to Fortune’s surprise Sir Christian Denby was there. Attaching himself to Fortune he remained by her side all evening, although she attempted to dismiss him coolly.
“You should not be unescorted, madame,” he told her.
“I am in my brother’s house,” Fortune replied.
“Your neckline is far too low,” he said, but he could scarce take his eyes from her cleavage.
“Does the sight of my breasts disturb you, sir?” she mocked him. “You are free to look away, I assure you.”
“How can I when you display your wares so boldly for all to see,” he responded. “Are you seeking to take a lover in your husband’s absence, madame? I am told your mother once displayed such proclivities.”
Fortune gasped, shocked, and not certain for a moment that she had heard Sir Christian correctly, but then he spoke again.
“Was she not Prince Henry’s whore, madame?” he said.
Fortune slapped her companion as hard as she might, but aware of the place, she then turned and walked away. Immediately Henry Lindley was at his sister’s side.
“What has happened?” he demanded.
“Why did you invite that man to your house?” Fortune asked.
“He is the cousin of one of my neighbors, and new to the vicinity. He is wife hunting, and my neighbor thought such a gathering at Cadby would be an ideal place for Sir Christian to observe the local belles. What is the matter, Fortune? Why did you slap the man?”
“Because he has insulted me, and he has insulted Mama as well, Henry.” Then she went on to tell her brother what Sir Christian Denby had said to her.
“He is a Puritan, Henry. I should not have him in the house, but you must not spoil Cecily’s night by causing a scene and escorting the blackguard from your house. Just keep him away from me!”