“But you are not. Go now! You are disturbing me.”
“But your Grace—”
“If you disobey me, ever, I will strip you naked, lay welts upon your back by own hand, and send you back to the slop alley from which you came.”
She rose, and she swore to herself that she would never forgive him. Blood meant nothing to him; it meant nothing to her.
She fled from the room then, terrified that she would burst into tears. In her room she paced the floor. Robert would come to the ball and Jamie would not. Lenore would find herself in Robert’s arms, and it would be right, and it would be perfect, and the honorable thing would be for them to marry.
No! It wasn’t fair!
She threw herself on top of her bed and stared at the ceiling. She should be grateful for her comfort and seek no more! she told herself. But Henry’s words gnawed at her. She was living by the grace of another, and it was frightening. If she offended him now, two years from now or five years now, he would send her back out into the streets. Back to abject poverty.
There had to be a way.
Kathryn came to summon her again; Jane needed her services. Jassy swallowed down her hatred for her brother and went to serve his wife. Jane dictated her letters, many of which were to stockholders in the Virginia Company. Jane, like her father and brother, had invested heavily with the Company, and with a similar venture, the Bermuda Company. When they were done with the correspondence, Jane sighed and leaned back on her bed. “I feel so weary so quickly. And so fat! Like a house.”
“Milady, one can barely tell that you are with child.”
“You are a diplomat, along with your other talents!” Jane laughed. “And smart,” she added softly. She indicated the pile of correspondence. “Tell me, what do you think of this venture?” she asked.
“Milady?”
Jane laughed. “The Virginia Company. Jamie is so enthused. There have been many failures, but now, you see, I am determined to invest in my brother. The company travails for lack of organization. The leaders quibble with one another. Still, much has happened since 1606. Jamie tells me that there are many families in Jamestown. And in the various hundreds on the James. I think that Jamie will make us all prosper with that new land of his.”
“I’m sure he shall,” Jassy said politely. Her fingers tightened around her quill.
“He is an adventurer, Jamie is. He loves the wind and the sea and faraway lands. Though truly the manor he has built is amazing. Oh, well, perhaps he will settle down now with Lenore, and she will convince him to remain at home. I don’t know. Perhaps it would be a bad match. He is determined to go where and when he pleases, and Lenore is no wanderer.” She shrugged. “It is between the two of them. And Henry, of course, but he is quite determined that Lenore will be married this year. She must make her choice.”
“And what if she chooses Robert Maxwell?” Jassy could not help but ask.
“Oh, then I can see it all very easily. They are both frivolous flirts, and they shall have to take great care that they learn some sense of responsibility!”
Jassy hesitated. “And what of you?” she queried softly. “How do you and Henry manage?”
Jane smiled slowly. “Well enough. You find him cruel, I’m certain, but you must remember that he was always taught that he would be the duke, ‘His Grace,’ and that he was very nobly born. Jassy, it is true, most men would not even allow you in their house.”
“I am a burden to him. Perhaps, if he allowed me to go to the ball, I would no longer have to be a burden.”
Jane laughed. “He wants Lenore married. When that has come about, you shall see, he will discover that you are worthy of his attention. There will always be another ball. And in time I’m certain that Henry will decide upon a proper match for you, perhaps with a prospering merchant.” She smiled and winced. “Jassy, if you’ll forgive me, I’m getting a terrible headache.”
Jassy leapt to her feet. “If you’ve some mineral water, perhaps I could help. My mother used to get such headaches.”
Jane arched a brow but directed Jassy to her dressing table and the mineral water. Jassy came behind Jane and dampened her fingers and set them gently upon Jane’s temple. She began to move them in a lulling motion, and after several moments Jane sighed contentedly. “You are marvelous, a gift from God!” Jane proclaimed. Jassy demurred, but in a few minutes Jane was sleeping. Jassy slipped quietly from the room.
She left the house and came out to the stables and asked one of the grooms to saddle Mary for her. While she waited, Elizabeth came down and decided to ride with her. Elizabeth laughed and chatted about the ball—she loved to prepare things! And, of course, before the ball they would fast for Lent, and then celebrate Easter; there would be much for everyone to do.
Jassy brooded and listened just vaguely. She did not pay attention to their path but allowed Elizabeth to lead. Then suddenly she reined in, for they had followed an unfamiliar trail and had come to a new and gleaming residence grander than any palace Jassy had ever imagined. A high wall encircled numerous cleared acres and groves, and beyond the wall, a whitewashed palace rose against the green of the new spring grass, a tall, imposing structure in brick with symmetrical outbuildings and fascinating turrets and towers. She had once seen Hampton Court as a child; this seemed grander than that royal residence taken from Cardinal Wolsey by Henry VIII.
“What is it?” Jassy said, awed.
Elizabeth laughed. “It is Jamie’s new manor. He has traveled much, you know. The symmetry is from the Italians, or so he told me. The balance is French, but we are Englishmen and Englishwomen here, and so the design is Tudor. It is wonderful, is it not?”
“Yes, it is wonderful.”
“Come, we’ll see it.”
“Oh, we cannot! I don’t wish—”
“Don’t worry. Jamie is in London now. The king’s council is in session, and the Duke of Carlyle is in council, and Jamie is with his father, advising him. Lymon Miller is the steward of the estate; he will take us through it.”
Jassy could protest no more, for Elizabeth nudged her mount forward and they raced together to the grand wall and the massive wrought-iron entry with its emblem of the lion and the hawk. A gatekeeper recognized Elizabeth and welcomed her with respect, letting them through. Then they approached the steps to the manor itself. Grooms appeared quickly to take their horses, and even as they removed their gloves a spry bald man in handsome dark livery came hurrying down the many steps. “Lady Elizabeth!” he said with delight. “Welcome. Lord Cameron will be so sorry he missed you. He’s not at Castle Carlyle, no, I’m sorry to say. They’ve gone on to London.”
“Oh, I know that, Lymon. This is my sister, Jasmine. I wanted to show her the manor. May I?”
Lymon cast Jassy a quick and curious stare, and she knew that the entire region must have heard of her sudden appearance from a sordid past. “Miss Jasmine,” Lymon said. “You must do as you wish, Lady Elizabeth. Will you have coffee? Lord Cameron has just acquired some from his ships in the Mediterranean.”
“Yes, Lymon, thank you. In the blue room, I think.”
Jassy followed Elizabeth up the grand stone stairway and past the concrete lions guarding the double doorway. There was a rich red runner sweeping down the length of a grand hallway, so wide and huge that it could easily accommodate a hundred guests. Portraits lined the walls, and doorways opened on either side to various other rooms. A great curving stone stairway rose from the rear of the hall, and it, too, was covered in the rich red velvet runner that came to the door. Elizabeth smiled as Jassy gaped. “It is lovely, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It is exquisite.”
“And imagine. He is hardly ever here. When he returns from his journeys, he spends time with his father. He keeps his belongings here, and that is it, so it seems.” She laughed. “Ah, well, if Lenore has her way, they will marry, and he will have to come home more often, don’t you agree?”
Jassy nodded, but she didn’t want to agree. She didn?
??t want to think of Lenore in the manor, she wanted to imagine that it belonged to her. It was fun to close her eyes and see herself in silks and furs, walking down the stairway greeting her guests. They would toast her; they would say that she was the grandest hostess in all of King James’s realm, the poor little bastard serving wench who had pulled herself up and proved that a commoner could rise above her lot to grace the society of nobles and gentry.
The house belonged to Lord Cameron, she reminded herself.
“Shall we have coffee? The blue room.” Elizabeth directed her to the left, where the walls were covered with light blue silk and the floor by a braided rug. Shining wooden chairs were pulled before a low-burning fire. The ceiling was molded and the mantel was made of marble. A cart that held a silver service was pulled before the fire.
“Sit. I shall pour.” Elizabeth indicated a seat. Jassy bit her lower lip and smiled.
“Please, Elizabeth, may I pour?” Jassy said. She’d never had coffee before. It was an Eastern drink, and only the very wealthy were beginning to import it from places in southern Europe.
“Why, milady, do go right ahead!”
And as Jassy poured their coffee she discovered herself every bit the actress that her mother had been. She spoke about Lord so-and-so’s day on the floor at Parliament, and how Lady da-de-da had been presented before the king and queen. “And where was it? Oh, they were at the Tower, I believe. And did I tell you that Lady Cauliflower stayed there recently—the queen insisted, of course—and claimed that the Tower Green was definitely haunted? Well, it is Catherine Howard who screams along the corridors of Hampton Court, but it is Anne Boleyn who carried her head about the Tower Green!”
Elizabeth convulsed with laughter. “Oh, Jassy! You would make a great lady. A very great lady, indeed!”
“Oh, indeed, she would,” came a sudden, masculine voice from the doorway.
Jassy jumped up, spilling her coffee. Elizabeth dropped her cup. They both stared at Jamie Cameron.
He entered the room, stripping away his gauntlets. Lymon followed after him, ready to accept the gauntlets and take his black cloak as he cast it off. Beneath the cloak he was clad in knee-high riding boots, crimson breeches, a slashed doublet, and a fine white shirt. He handed his plumed hat to his steward, too, thanking Lymon cordially for the service.
Then he was staring at the two of them again, and though he greeted Elizabeth warmly enough, he seemed to view them with displeasure.
“Do forgive me—” Elizabeth began, but he interrupted her with a kiss on the cheek.
“Elizabeth, you are always welcome in my home.”
Jassy had not said a word. She clenched her teeth and held her hands folded before her. She hated that he had come upon them. Always! Always! He destroyed her dreams. He broke into them with harsh reality, and with his ever-present mockery and scorn. Nor could she forget when they had parted. Seeing him brought back a wave of emotion, and she trembled inside. He stared at her now with polite inquiry, and without a word of welcome to her.
“I did not expect you back.”
“Matters in London were solved much more quickly than I expected. Are you—er, ladies having coffee? Forgive me if I indulge in a whiskey.” He went to the sideboard and poured himself an amber drink from a crystal decanter. He turned, leaned against the sideboard, and watched them both again, yet Jassy felt his acute gaze fall her way, and his lips curled into a mocking smile.
“Elizabeth, I think that we should be leaving,” Jassy said.
“Yes, perhaps—” Elizabeth said, but as she spoke, she turned, catching her fragile coffee cup with her skirt, and the contents spilled upon it. “Oh, dear! Henry has so recently bought this fabric from Flanders, he will be furious with me—”
“I’m sure that Lymon can quickly catch the stain, Elizabeth, and I’m equally certain that Henry could not be distressed with you.” He called for Lymon. “See, Elizabeth, it is just this bit, here, that is stained.”
“If you’ll come with me, Lady Elizabeth, we shall solve the problem in moments.”
“Jassy, I shall be right back.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, perhaps I can help—”
“I’m sure, Miss Dupré, that they can manage,” Jamie Cameron said. He smiled and blocked her way when she might have followed the two of them out. She did not try to barge past him. She turned with a rustle of fabric and wandered to the rear of the room, ostensibly studying the wall cloth.
“You’re good, Jassy. Very good,” he said softly.
“Am I?” It seemed better to face him then. She was distinctly uneasy with her back to him. “At what?”
“At all of it. At aping your betters.”
“I have no betters, Lord Cameron.”
He started to laugh, and then he inclined his head slightly to her. “Perhaps you don’t, ‘milady.’ Perhaps you don’t. Your mother was an actress. You have her talent. I believe that I would dare to take you to Court upon my arm, and have little fear that your manners would be anything but perfectly correct. But you are dreaming still, Jassy.”
“Do you think so?”
He approached her, and she backed away from him nervously, but then there was nowhere left to go, and so she stood her ground. He cornered her. He placed his hands on either side of her head, and he smiled, his face very close to hers. “May I tell you exactly what I read in the beautiful, cunning, and oh so betraying eyes? You love the elegance of this house, and you imagine yourself mistress here. Ah, but the house would not come with someone so loathsome as me. Oh, no! It would be Robert Maxwell’s estate, and of course, he would not dishonor you with any kind of licentious proposal, but he would forget fortune and class and the society of princes and kings to make you his wife. And you and he would rule here forever and forever.”
“Maybe someone will shoot you in a duel,” Jassy said sweetly. “And maybe Robert Maxwell cares more than you might think.”
He turned away from her, negligently returned to the sideboard, and sat before the fire with a casual air, dangling one leg over the side of the chair. He smiled, watching her where she still stood against the wall. “Robert will never marry you. He must marry elsewhere, and quickly. He needs the income. He has gambled away a great deal of his income.”
“You are a liar. You are rude and uncouth and as savage as the heathens in that godforsaken land that so excites you. You are determined to drag Robert Maxwell down at every opportunity.”
He shook his head slowly. “No, Jassy. Robert is my friend. I do not seek to hurt him. I was just in London to bail him out of difficulty.”
“You were there to meet your father.”
“Have it as you will.”
“I should be better off to come and sleep with you, right?” she said scornfully.
“Actually, yes. You could indulge in great fantasy. You could imagine that you had done away with me yourself, that the manor was entirely your own, and that you could reign here as a gracious queen forever.”
“I should dearly love to do away with you,” she replied.
“But then, I’m afraid that the fantasy couldn’t last forever. You see, I intend to marry soon.”
“The great and wondrous Lord Cameron deigns to take a wife. I hope that you shall make each other entirely miserable for a lifetime.”
“No one shall make me miserable for a lifetime, mistress,” he advised her. “You see, a wife has certain functions. To bear heirs, to be her lord’s hostess, and his supporter in all things. And above all, of course, she is to obey him, and follow him wherever he shall choose to lead. Then again, if she should prove not so gentle and not so kind and not so pretty as she seemed before the binding words were spoken, she may be left at one estate while her lord travels on to another.”
“Then the man has married himself a fool,” Jassy said. “And, my Lord Cameron, you do deserve one.”
His laughter followed her as she left the room at last, determining that she would wait for Elizabeth outside. A servant opened t
he door for her and she fled down the steps. Even as she reached the ground, the grooms were hurrying out with the horses. Elizabeth did come right along. She said good-bye to Jamie at the steps. Jassy was mounted when Elizabeth reached her. A groom quickly helped Elizabeth upon her mount.
“It’s a glorious place, isn’t it?” Elizabeth demanded.
“Glorious. Let’s please do go!”
That night Jassy had the first of her nightmares. She saw the attic room at Master John’s again, and she saw the blond figure lying there. She came toward the bed, knelt beside it, and touched the covers. Linnet turned to her, and Jassy began a long, silent scream, for her mother’s flesh had rotted from her face, and she touched her upon the breast with a bony finger. Then she fell back against the pallet, and when Jassy looked again, it was not Linnet lying there at all, it was her, and she was dying just as her mother had died, in filth and poverty. For days the nightmare haunted her.
But a week later the flowers came from Robert Maxwell, and she forgot the horror, for fantasy was awakened inside of her once again.
She was at the stables when the boy arrived, a young lad with a limp and a wool cap pulled low over his forehead. He carried a handful of roses, and he came to her swiftly, nervous that someone else might be about.
“Jasmine Dupré?”
“Yes?”
He thrust the flowers to her. “Compliments of Robert Maxwell, with his greatest regard.”
And that was it. The boy turned and ran away, but Jassy was left with the flowers, and they seemed the greatest gift that any woman could receive.
She brought them back to her room and laid them out on her pillow. She breathed in their sweet scent, thinking that winter was indeed gone, and spring had come.
Perhaps the cold had gone from her life forever, for Robert loved her, she was certain.
She carefully pressed the flowers into the one true gift her brother had given, a copy of the King’s new Bible.
The days began to rush by; they fasted for Lent, and they atoned for their sins on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Easter was soberly celebrated with a long Mass, and when that day came to an end, the household began to plan for May Day with exuberance.