of Glenkirk, you must be honorable in all things.”
“You are really a dreadful loser, my lord,” Jasmine said. “It was a silent challenge, and to believe the race ended before it ended was just plain silly. You will have to be quicker than that if we are to have a satisfactory relationship, my lord.”
“Are you always like this?” he groused.
“Like what?”
“Impossible! Totally, utterly impossible!” he roared.
“There is no need to shout, my lord,” she told him. “I do not think it is particularly good for you. There is a little vein right there”—her finger reached out, and touched the side of his head—“that is throbbing fiercely. I must teach you a little trick one of my aunts taught me when I was a child that will help you to calm yourself. You sit perfectly still and clear your mind of all thoughts, then just breath deeply in and blow the breath out. It is excellent for calming one’s nerves. I used it myself on occasion.”
He could feel the vein she touched beating a tattoo on the side of his head. There were but two ways to stop it and calm himself. He would either have to strangle her where she stood—and the thought at this very moment was deliciously tempting—or he would have to kiss her. He chose the latter.
Sweeping her into his arms his mouth found hers in a hard kiss. He crushed her against him, feeling her bosom, certainly fuller than it had been several years back before she had borne her children, push against him. He expected her to struggle, to give some expression of outrage. Instead Jasmine’s lips softened against him, and she seemed to melt into his embrace, returning his harshness with a tender, sweet softness. He had meant to conquer her, but instead found himself the vanquished. He was astounded as he released his fierce hold on her, not just a little chagrined.
She stood straight, looking up at him, although if the truth had been known Jasmine’s legs were as weak as a jelly. “ ’Twas either kiss or kill, was it not, my lord?” she taunted him wickedly.
He nodded, and, unable to think of any clever retort, said, “There was a time when you called me Jemmie, madame, and not always my lord. Do you think we can regain that place again?”
“You will never tame me, nor I you, Jemmie,” she replied in answer. “ ’Twill be a terrible match, I fear.” But Jasmine was smiling.
“Aye,” he agreed, “it will, but there is no help for it. I am the king’s loyal man and must obey. Still, a man might have a worse wife than you will be, darling Jasmine. As you are so fond of reminding me, you are rich, beautiful, royal, and clever,” he gently teased.
“I have always been a good wife,” she responded primly. “You will learn if you do not thwart me, I shall be loyal and bring no shame to your name, Jemmie Leslie.”
“In other words, if I give you your own way, we will have no difficulties,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“Exactly!” Jasmine answered him brightly. “How fortunate I am to be marrying so perceptive a man.”
Chapter 5
The weather turned again, and the early-spring rains came. James Leslie and Jasmine Lindley kept mostly to the château, where they played cards and chess, and talked. Although they had been acquainted with each other, neither really knew the other. Skye had been correct in leaving them alone. When the children had been gone some ten days, the earl suggested that on the next day there was no rain they ride over the Archambault to visit Jasmine’s relations and see how the youngsters were getting on with their cousins.
Jasmine flushed at the suggestion.
“What is the matter?” he asked her.
She laughed weakly. “I had almost forgotten about my children,” Jasmine admitted, embarrassed. “It has been so lovely here with you, Jemmie, that I have come close to forgetting my responsibilities.”
“You are the best of mothers,” he reassured her. “No one would fault you for enjoying your time away from the children. When we return home to England we shall spend as little time at court as is possible that we may spend most of our time with our family.”
“Will we live in Scotland?” she asked him. “My mother transplanted well there, but has always insisted upon her English summers as she is wont to call them. Is Glenkirk beautiful, Jemmie?”
“Very beautiful,” he said, “but we will only live there part of the year, Jasmine. Perhaps the autumn and winter months. Autumn is the best time in Scotland. The summers we will spend at Queen’s Malvern, and Henry must go to Cadby then. In the spring we shall go to court so that James is not offended. I have overseen his empire’s foreign trade for several years now, but I wish to resign that post now that we are to be wed. My own family has been heavily involved in trading for many, many years with our bankers, the Kira family. I do not know if your grandmother would consider it, but a merger of my interests with the O’Malley-Small trading company could profit us as all. That is something she and I must discuss.”
Jasmine nodded. “It seems a sensible solution to all our domiciles, but I hope we shall not have to stay too long at court.”
“Only to the extent it benefit us,” he responded sagely. “We have the children to consider. Charlie is a duke, and Henry a marquis. Their sisters are heiresses, and will be prime on the marriage market one day.” He reached out and took her hand in his, lifting it to kiss the inside of her wrist and her palm. “And we have our bairns to consider as well, darling Jasmine. Perhaps another earl, and a brother and sister or two?” He nibbled on her fingers seductively.
Jasmine colored becomingly. Of course there had to be children of this marriage, but until this moment she hadn’t really thought a great deal about it. How long had it been since she had made love to a man? Her youngest child was two and a half years of age, and it had been several months before his birth when she and Henry Stuart had ceased their intimacies. It was almost three years, she realized, amazed. She had grown used to life without a man. Without a man in her bed. Did she even remember how to play that game? The fire in the fireplace crackled and snapped, the flames dappling the walls with shadow, while outside the rain beat a light tattoo upon the windowpanes.
James Leslie saw the confusion passing over her features and realized the opportunity presenting itself to him. To his surprise, however, Jasmine pulled her hand away from him, distress written all over her beautiful face. Shaking her head at him, she ran from the hall. So, he thought, she had felt it too. She wasn’t being coy, he realized, for Jasmine Lindley was a woman of experience; yet she felt a certain shyness with him that was astonishing given the passionate lover he recalled on that one wonderful night that they had shared those several years back.
He wondered if he should follow her and thought better of the idea. He considered if she had taken a lover while here in France and discarded the notion. The only lover Jasmine Lindley had ever allowed in her bed other than himself, and her husbands, had been Prince Henry Stuart. Then in a burst of clarity he saw the problem. Of course! It had to be! There had been no man in her bed since the prince. He laughed softly to himself. Jasmine, who disliked being at any sort of disadvantage, felt awkward about making love again. He was tempted to go to her and reassure her, but he knew that would be a mistake. He would have to court Jasmine as he had never courted any woman. He had not really courted Isabelle, for they had been promised in childhood, and it was a given that they would marry. It had not been necessary to court his late wife, and there had been none since her death he chose to court and marry.
It was an interesting concept, courting a woman, but court her he would have to in order to gain her trust and win his way into her bed, into her heart. What could he do that would please her? She lacked for nothing. James Leslie realized that he had absolutely no idea about how to court a woman who had everything. Had she been a simple lass, he would have wooed her with jewelry and other finery. She knew he liked her children, so there was no ingress there. What was he to do? And then he realized that he would have to seek advice from Madame Skye. He laughed aloud at the thought. Take advice from that beautiful