Darling Jasmine. Bertrice SmallЧитать онлайн книгу.
take them to Paris, and finally home. This way my granddaughter, and her husband-to-be will be forced to renew their friendship and work out their difficulties. Perhaps after I am gone you will invite them to Archambault. A bit of time alone together, and who knows what may transpire.”
“Ahhh, l’amour,” the count agreed. Then he said, “Of course you may bring Jasmine’s children for a visit, chérie. Helene and I would be delighted to have you. We, too, are great-grandparents. Our grandson, Phillippe, the next comte de Cher, has a little son, Antoine, named after my father. He will enjoy his cousins from England.”
“I was saddened to learn of your son’s death,” Skye said.
“These damned religious wars,” Alexandre de Saville replied irritably. “My son, Adam, had nothing to do with any of it, and yet he fell victim to the madness on his way home from a visit to Nantes. His wife, Louise, succumbed of melancholy shortly afterward, poor girl. They had but one child. Phillippe is a good man, however. He married early, and sired Antoine, and his baby sister, Marie, and his wife is again with child. He and Jasmine are of an age. We will let him entertain her, and Lord Leslie, while Helene and I just sit back enjoying the young people. There are certain compensations to old age, chérie, eh?”
“Damned few,” Skye replied, and she laughed. “Where is Helene?” I cannot return to Belle Fleurs without paying my respects.”
“Come with me then, chérie,” the comte said. “I will take you to her. The damp weather makes her bones ache, and she keeps to her apartments.”
“Where have you been, Grandmama?” Jasmine demanded of Skye on her return to the château. It had been a horrific week. She and James Leslie seemed to have nothing in common but her children, and could not seem to speak to one another unless one of them was involved. It did not bode well, and now Skye had disappeared, sending her granddaughter into a panic.
“I have been to Archambault,” Skye said calmly. She handed her cloak to a servant and settled herself in a chair before the fire, sipping thirstily at the wine handed her. “Well, my lord, have you and Jasmine had a good day?” She beamed toothily at James Leslie, who was seated opposite her, glowering into the flames.
“It stopped raining long enough for us to take the children out into the gardens,” the earl replied glumly.
“My brother-in-law, the comte de Cher, had the most delightful idea,” Skye continued on breathlessly. “He has suggested that I bring the children to Archambault for a visit and leave you two alone to become reacquainted again without the distraction of your family. I hope you will let us go. His grandson, Phillippe, is Jasmine’s contemporary, and has a little son a bit older than Charlie, and a tiny bit younger than Mistress Fortune. It would be so good for the children to get to know the French side of their family. Who knows! We may have a French princess for a queen one day.”
“How far is Archambault?” the earl asked.
“But a few miles across the fields,” Skye said brightly. “The comte, Alexandre de Saville, is Adam’s half brother. His son, named for my husband, was killed, and so it is his grandson, Phillippe, who is his heir. They are a lovely family.”
“How long a visit, madame?” the earl inquired.
“A week, or perhaps two,” Skye ventured, refusing to acknowledge her granddaughter’s outraged look.
“I will think on it, madame,” James Leslie said.
“It is a ridiculous idea!” Jasmine burst out. “Why should it matter if my children know the de Saville children? Once we have returned to England it will not matter at all. Besides, Charlie is not quite weaned yet. I couldn’t possibly let them go, Grandmama.”
“The decision is not mine to make, my darling girl,” Skye said with a nod in the earl’s direction. “And as for little Charles Frederick, it is past time, Jasmine, that he was weaned. Why the lad will be three in the autumn. I never nursed any of my children for so long a time. As for your children, and the de Saville children, one never knows when one might need help from a relation. ’Tis better to know one’s relations, even the distant ones, if possible. Alexandre de Saville is your great-uncle. His son, Phillippe, is your cousin. It could one day prove a valuable connection. Why I believe even Lord Leslie has relations here in France. Is that not so, sir?”
“Indeed, madame, it is. Two of my father’s uncles wed Frenchwomen. Their families live near Fontainebleau, southeast of Paris. I am acquainted with both branches,” the earl answered.
“There, you see!” Skye crowed. “The earl knows his French relatives.” Her smile took them both in with its warmth.
“I do not want my children separated from me,” Jasmine said stubbornly. Her look was definitely mutinous, her turquoise eyes angry. “I am their mother, and it is up to me what they do.”
“Nay, madame, it is up to me as their legal guardian,” James Leslie replied. “I think your bairns should go to Archambault to visit with their cousins. As for young Charlie, ’tis past time, madame, that he was separated from your tit. He’s got teeth to chew his food, and you’ll make a mother’s boy out of him if you continue on as you have.”
“Ohhhhhhh!” Now Jasmine looked truly affronted.
“My dears,” Skye quickly spoke. “I do not want Alexandre’s little suggestion to be the cause of dispute between you. Jasmine, my darling girl, be reasonable. The children have been cooped up here with you at Belle Fleurs for months. They need a change, and they need to be with other children of their own class. It will give them a chance to practice their manners and deportment before their return to England, when they must take their place in our society. You know that at one time or another they will go to court. Would you have them at a disadvantage? They will not thank you for it. Manners learned young are manners learned forever. Let them go to Archambault.”
“Well,” Jasmine amended, “ ’tis only a little way away.”
“Aye,” Skye purred in kindly tones, “and I shall be with them the whole time. I shall enjoy it, for it has been many years since I have visited with Adam’s family. Ahhh, what fine times we had at Archambault when your grandfather and I were young and ripe!” She sighed gustily, and her hand went to her heart.
“Do not overplay your part, madame,” the earl of Glenkirk murmured softly in her ear.
Skye’s face never betrayed her surprise at his remark. Well, well, she thought, he is brighter than I gave him credit for, is this earl of Glenkirk. Aye! I am doing the right thing in taking the children away, and forcing these two together to work out their problems. She would discuss the Paris leg of their journey later on, but not now.
“Oh, very well,” Jasmine decided, “but not for a week. It will take at least a week to make certain their clothing is in good repair, and to tutor them in their deportment.”
“I agree with you, madame,” James Leslie said with a small smile.
“You do?” Jasmine was somewhat surprised.
“We cannot always disagree,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye.
“Perhaps not,” she answered him, not certain what he exactly meant by the wry remark.
It was ten days before Jasmine was satisfied that her children were ready to leave for Archambault. She had kept her small staff busy washing, pressing, brushing their clothing until Skye had complained the nap would be worn off the fabrics altogether. The little trunks were packed neatly; the nursemaids given detailed instructions as to the children’s care, and what to do in the event of this or that.
Finally, irritated, Skye snapped at her granddaughter, “I have raised seven children, my darling girl, and I will be with my great-grandchildren. I know what to do. We leave on the morrow, and I’ll hear no more about it!”
The earl of Glenkirk repressed a small smile. Jasmine looked so worried. She was a good mother but far too obsessed with her offspring. He