Darling Jasmine

by Bertrice Small

  The king spent the winter months personally making plans for his return to Scotland in the summer to come, for his family and advisors were resisting the idea. He sent orders that Holyrood Palace was to be completely refurbished for the visit and sent word to Glenkirk that he would expect to see both James and Jasmine Leslie there to greet him when he arrived in Edinburgh. It was to be a full state visit with both the queen and Prince Charles in attendance.

  “When is he coming?” Jasmine asked.

  “I expect he will arrive in mid-July,” her husband answered. “If I know Their Majesties, they will want to remain to hunt in August and September. They will begin their progress, however, in early June.”

  “And every family in their path will both dread and anticipate their coming,” Jasmine laughed. “Particularly as they will travel with the entire court. It is outrageously expensive to entertain royalty, even for a meal, or a single night. Grandmama said it was months before the lawns at Queen’s Malvern were back to normal after the old queen came those many years ago; but when the king came after Charlie-boy’s birth, he and the queen came alone, with only a few attendants.”

  “I am relieved to say we will nae have to entertain the royal Stuarts,” Jemmie said. His speech had begun to slip back now and then into the dialect of the land. “He’ll nae venture into the Highlands.”

  “But where will he hunt?” Jasmine asked her husband.

  “He’ll keep to the pack at Holyrood. ’Tis safer for him.” Jemmie chuckled. He took her hand and kissed it. “You are lovely when you are full wi my bairns,” he told her.

  “Only at Holyrood?” Jasmine persisted.

  “Probably at Falklands and in Perth,” he replied. “Is it another son, darling Jasmine? It seems I recall you did promise me at least three sons.” He put his hand upon her belly, which was only now beginning to swell with the new life she sheltered within her.

  “It will be as God wills,” she teased him, “but I will admit it is already behaving like a boy, and he will come before the king comes, which will give me time to regain my figure for the new gowns you’re going to buy me so I won’t embarrass you before the court.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to go to court,” he said.

  “I don’t want to live at court in England,” she told him, “but the king has asked us to join him in Edinburgh, and I do not see any reason why we cannot go for a short time.”

  “It will mean you lose your English summer,” he told her.

  “So will Mama and BrocCairn,” she replied. “We will invite Grandmama to Glenkirk. She likes it here, and you like her.”

  “I do,” he admitted. Then he teased, “You have it all figured out, madame, don’t you? Tell me, will these gowns be expensive?”

  “Verra expensive,” she teased back, and when he pulled her into his arms, kissing her soundly, Jasmine thought she had never been happier. She had had nightmares for several weeks after her escape from St. Denis. At first she had been unable to tell Jemmie what had happened to her other than to reassure him that she had not been raped. She knew she was not to blame for St. Denis’s wicked behavior, but she was frankly embarrassed by the dreadful humiliations she had suffered at his hands. The welts and weals upon her body had healed quickly, but the injury to her pride was greater than the blows he had inflicted upon her.

  Finally, she told him, leaving out but a single detail. Jasmine would not tell her husband of how St. Denis had made her kneel before him and take his member into her mouth. James Leslie need never know it had happened; and if they ever again found themselves face-to-face with the villain, and he taunted Jemmie with the knowledge, she would deny it. James Leslie would, she knew, believe her before he would believe St. Denis. She had done what she had to do to save her life, but would Jemmie fully understand that? She dared not take the chance and spoil the greatest happiness she had ever known.

  Adam John Leslie was born on the fourteenth day of May in the year 1617. He had his parents’ dark hair and eyes that promised to remain a smoky blue. Named for both sides of his family, he was a fat, cheerful infant who happily moved from his mother’s breast at the age of one month to the breast of the plump farm wife who was his wet nurse. His sisters, now nine and seven; and his brothers, who were eight, five, and a year, seemed content with their new sibling. As for James Leslie, he was ecstatic at the birth of another son.

  Jasmine had born her sixth child with the same ease as she had most of her children.

  “You have grown content and lost your restlessness,” Adali remarked. “You are like your mother, I think.”

  “Which one?” Jasmine asked him, a small smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. “Rugaiya Begum or Lady Gordon?”

  “Both,” he told her. “How happy the begum would be to see you now, my princess.”

  “She sees us, Adali,” Jasmine responded. “She and my father both.” They had learned late in the previous year of the death of Jasmine’s Indian foster mother, the princess wife of Akbar, Jasmine’s father.

  Adali nodded, his brown eyes just slightly teary. Then, catching himself, he said, “We must concentrate on your new wardrobe, my princess. The king is even now on the move north.”

  And he was, although his English advisors had pleaded with James Stuart to avoid this additional extravagance to his overspent budget. While their advice was good, the truth was they dreaded this long trip to Scotland, and then back to England again. Even Villiers, now Buckingham, had suggested that perhaps such an indulgent trip was not particularly wise.

  “What then, Steenie?” the king snarled at his favorite. “Do ye fear such an expense to my treasury will mean less wee gifties to ye? Dinna be selfish! I am like a salmon who must spawn back to its breeding grounds one more time. Dinna fret me again about it, and tell the others I will nae hear any more about it. We leave on June 1!” Then the king did something he had never done. He flung a vase at his favorite in a temper, and the Earl of Buckingham beat a hasty retreat.

  A royal visit to Scotland was a huge undertaking. A route had to be decided upon, and it depended on the great houses in its path where the king might stay a night or two. The court would have to fend for itself, which meant finding inns, or barns, or packing tents which, on occasion, even the king would billet himself in for lack of better accommodation. The king’s bed was brought complete with its mattress, featherbed, down coverlet, pillows, and linens. It had to be set up each night with its heavy draperies for His Majesty to sleep in unless there was a suitable bed offered by the royal host. Tapestries, beeswax candles, fine porcelain, linens, and silver were packed for Their Majesties’ comfort. As the king had a great love of soft fruit, cherries, peaches, apricots, grapes, and melons were also sent north posthaste as they became available.

  The king, who had gladly and swiftly vacated Scotland upon his ascension in order to escape his contentious Scots nobles, now waxed very sentimental with each mile they traveled. The queen rolled her mild blue eyes in exasperation. The courtiers grumbled excessively at the inconvenience and the expense involved in this great landward voyage northward. Finally, they crossed the border. A host of the great border families came to greet them. Armstrongs, Douglases, Eliots, Hamiltons, Hays, Johnsons, Lindsays, Homeses, and Hepburns came forth, banners flying, pipes playing wildly and joyfully as they welcomed their king home again. The English courtiers in their satins and laces looked askance at the bare-legged Scots in their kilts and caps.

  William Drummond of Hawthornden stepped forward, bowing to the king. There had been two Drummond queens of Scotland. David II’s wife, Margaret; and Annabella Drummond, wife of Robert III, and the mother of James I. The Drummonds were ever loyal to the Stuarts. The Drummond of Hawthornden offered James Stuart a special greeting.

  And why should Isis only see thee shine?

  Is not the Forth as well as Isis thine?

  Though Isis vaunt she hath more wealth in store

  Let it suffice thy Forth doth love thee more.


  “What does it mean?” Prince Charles asked softly.

  “Isis is England, the Forth, Scotland,” Villiers, who was now the prince’s good friend, replied. “And he’s saying that Scotland loves your father more than England. It is quite clever, Your Highness.”

  “Aye,” the queen said. “The Scots are clever, but they are also stubborn. Wait. It will not be long before they are arguing with your father over something, my son. Mark them well, for you shall one day have to deal with them, and they are a proud and difficult people. And you may be certain that the Presbyterians will give him trouble.”

  The king, however, was delighted to be back. He was flattered by the many delegations greeting him with kind words and by the fine statue of himself that had been raised at the Nether Bow. His reign from England had already brought new prosperity to his native land. Best of all, the peace and order he had struggled so hard to bring to Scotland while he was still only its king was still fairly secure and in place.

  The court was to stay at Holyrood, a mile down the Cannongate from Edinburgh Castle. Originally an abbey built in the twelfth century, it took its name from a piece of the true cross, or rood, which was its most prized possession. The abbey guesthouse had become a favorite lodging of the Scots kings. Marriages, funerals, births, and other state occasions took place at the abbey. Finally, James IV decided that the guesthouse should become a royal palace. Of course it was necessary that the new palace be enlarged and its appointments enhanced.

  James IV built a large northwest tower with pointed turrets and a crenellated parapet that reminded Jasmine of the châteaux in the Loire near Archambault, and Belle Fleurs. He then added a south wing to the tower that had its main door flanked by two semicircular towers with witches’ caps roofs. Holyrood had a distinct elegance to it. It was surrounded by lovely gardens and set within a large forested park overseen by one Thomas Fentoun, the royal keeper of the park, and of the king’s beasts, which included a lion, a tiger, several lynx, and a vast number of game birds. Deer roamed freely.

  The royal suite was in the northwest tower. The queen was housed on the second floor, in rooms that had belonged to her late and never known mother-in-law, Mary, Queen of Scots. There was a Presence Chamber hung with black velvet with the arms of Marie de Guise, who had been James’s French grandmother, emblazoned upon the ceiling. Off of this chamber was the queen’s bedchamber. There were two other small rooms, one for dressing and one for dining, which was draped in crimson and green. A narrow private staircase, which opened into the queen’s bedchamber, connected the queen’s apartments with the king’s, which were directly below it. Those rooms had belonged to the king’s father, Lord Darnley. Prince Charles and the earl of Buckingham were housed near the king’s apartments.

  As the royal party entered the park of Holyrood, they found awaiting them a number of the Highland families, including the Leslies of Glenkirk. Jasmine and Jemmie had arrived earlier and, finding the palace steward, had been informed a bedchamber had been set aside for them, for the king had expressly sent orders that they were to stay at Holyrood while he was there.

  “We have a house just several streets away,” the earl told the king’s steward. “Give our chamber to another.”

  “I am sorry, my lord, but I have my orders. His Majesty wishes you to be near him during this visit,” the steward said firmly.

  “How kind of him,” Jasmine chimed in smiling. “And what an honor, my lord, to stay in the king’s house.”

  James Leslie heard the warning in his wife’s voice. “Very well, darling Jasmine,” he said. “I but thought only to help the royal steward, who must find housing for the entire court, not to mention many of those who have come down from the Highlands.”

  “Your lordship is most thoughtful,” the royal steward replied. “Tell your servants they may sleep in the servants’ hall.”

  They were directed to the appointed chamber in the south wing. It was very tiny, with a south window and a corner fireplace. Its only piece of furniture was an oaken bedstead.

  “Where on earth are we to put the trunks?” Jasmine wailed.

  “What an honor to stay in the king’s house,” he mocked her.

  “It did not occur to me that the king would have such tiny guest chambers,” Jasmine grumbled. Then she said, “If we push the bedstead against the window wall, we can just fit in two small chests of clothes along the opposite wall. There is no place to hang my clothing. Toramalli and Rohana will have to fetch my gowns from Glenkirk House each day, and they can sleep there, too.” She turned and bumped into Red Hugh.

  “Sorry, m’lady,” he said.

  “Red Hugh, you must stop chasing at my heels,” she scolded him. “It wasn’t your fault, dammit! How many times must I say it?”

  “I was derelict in my duty, m’lady.” he told her. “If I hae been wi ye that day, that English bugger would nae hae caught ye. Praise God ye were nae harmed, but ye could hae been, and ’twas my fault, for I let ye send me away instead of remaining wi ye. I’ll nae do it again!”

  “I am safe with my husband,” Jasmine said. “Now go back to Glenkirk House and tell Adali that we will need curtains, linens, and bedding. Then come back with him and show him this chamber. Can you not hear the crowds cheering already? The king has entered Edinburgh. He will soon be here, and my lord and I must be among the first to greet him, Red Hugh. Now go, and after you have shown Adali this room, you may come and find us, and dog my heels once more,” she concluded, gently teasing the big Highlander. He really had been very upset by her brief kidnapping.

  They left the palace and, mounting their horses, rode back into the park, mingling with the other Highland families awaiting the royal party. Finally they arrived, all a-horse, the cheers of the Edinburghers filling the air. The king looked a trifle tired with his long journey, but extremely pleased to be in Scotland. Spotting the Leslies of Glenkirk, he leaned over, first to the queen, and then the prince. Then, making eye contact with his cousins, the monarch nodded his greeting, and the queen waved brightly.

  The Scots nobility joined in with the English nobility and rode through the park to the palace, where scores of groomsmen were waiting to take their horses. The king had already gone inside with his personal party by the time the Leslies reached the courtyard. They had no sooner dismounted, however, when the earl of Buckingham hurried over to them. He bowed to them with a flourish.

  “Steenie, our congratulations,” Jasmine said. “One more step up the ladder, eh?” Then she laughed.

  George Villiers raised an amused eyebrow in agreement and kissed Jasmine’s hand. “You are ravishing as always, madame. Living in the wilds of Scotland has not diminished your beauty one whit. You are a mother again, I am told. How many is that now, madame, six? And yet you keep your figure.” He eyed her lasciviously, waggling his eyebrows, and then he laughed. “May my sweet Kate be as fortunate.”

  “You are not married then yet?” the earl said.

  “Her father says I must climb a bit higher,” George Villiers said low. “He fears I shall lose the king’s favor if I marry his daughter too soon. He desires that Kate marry higher than an earl.” Villiers lowered his voice even more. “I shall be a marquis next year.” He linked his arms through theirs. “Come now and let us go in. What a lovely place this is. I shall enjoy exploring it, and I am relieved to know we shall not have to travel again for a while. The king has invited you to a private supper in his apartment tonight. The round of state banquets will begin tomorrow, but tonight the king says is for old friends.”

  And it was a most intimate party, much to Jasmine’s surprise. The great families were left to fend for themselves while the king ate a simple supper of salmon and rabbit pie, surrounded by his immediate family and a few cousins, among whom were the earl of Glenkirk, and his father-in-law of BrocCairn. The queen looked weary, and admitted to it.

  “Heaven only knows that I love to ride,” she said, “but I have ridden all the way from England, and my bottom is worn o
ut.” She sipped listlessly at her wine cup.

  “We will put a sheepskin on your saddle, madame, like we do in the northeast,” the earl of Glenkirk said with a smile. “You will not want to miss the hunting season, for I know how much you love to hunt, and you will remember how good a season we have here in Scotland. Soon the deer and the grouse will be ripe for the picking, eh?”

  The queen favored him with a smile. “I do, indeed, remember hunting in Scotland. Holyrood Palace will not be enough for us once we have rested up. We will want to go to Falklands and into Perthshire as well.”

  “Oh sweet Jesu,” Buckingham moaned low. “More traveling.”

  The queen ignored him. “Will we get to see our grandson?” she asked Jasmine. “How is little Charlie?”

  “He flourishes, madame, and is extremely pleased not to be the baby in the family anymore. He reveals in his role as big brother to Patrick and Adam. When we know exactly when you plan to go to Falklands, we shall send to Glenkirk for the children so you may see them all,” Jasmine concluded.

  The next day the round of entertainments began. The king received the heads of the clans, who had come from the Highlands and the borders to greet him. He hunted in the park about the palace, and in the evening he presided over state banquets, and the queen gave several elegant masques in which the English court took part, and the Scots court watched open-mouthed, for the queen had never given anything like these masques when she was their queen alone. The exquisite costumes, the painted and gilded sets that moved, the tinkling music, all was as amazement to them, and they were not certain that they approved such frippery and expensive lavishness.

  James Stuart had wanted to come home for sentimental reasons, but he had another agenda as well, which was the de-Puritanization of the Scottish church. As he wanted one Great Britain, a plan defeated by the English themselves, he wanted one state church both in England and in Scotland. Five articles were to be incorporated into the Scottish church that would bring them in line with England’s church. They were simple things, such as kneeling at communion and the celebration of Christian holidays, but the Presbyterian element were set firmly against them. The king spoke openly with his Scots courtiers about the five articles. Some of them were violently opposed; and of those in opposition, there were those who considered it just another English intrusion on Scottish nationalism; and others who considered it a throwback to the Roman Catholic Church, which but a hundred years earlier had held sway in Scotland, and of which they had, in the main, rid themselves. Fights broke out to the amusement of the English and the aggravation of the queen.