LITMIR.BIZ

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he was an excellent lover.

      Page, his keeper of the privy closet, was awaiting him. He helped his master disrobe. The king quickly bathed and, clothed in a clean nightshirt, lay down for a few hours of rest. Soon enough he would be surrounded by the formalities and daily routine of his court. Time spent with his mistresses was private and precious to him. He fell asleep dreaming of turquoise eyes and perfect little breasts.

      In the morning he told the keeper of his appointments to find a time in which he might speak with the dowager duchess of Glenkirk this very day. And when the time had been settled, a messenger was to be dispatched to the lady. The king’s tone told the royal servant that he would not accept the excuse that his calendar was already full.

      The keeper of the appointments bowed and said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

      Jasmine, dowager duchess of Glenkirk, was sitting up in her bed drinking her morning tea when Orane bustled in holding a sealed packet. The maidservant handed it to Jasmine with a curtsy.

      “This has just come from Whitehall,” she said, “and the gossip is that Mistress Fancy did not come home last night with her two cousins. Oh la la, madame! The duke does not know whether to be angry, or not.”

      “I would advise he not be angry,” Jasmine said with a smile. “A king is a king as we both well know, Orane.” She broke the seal on the parchment packet and opening it, read the contents. When she had finished, she folded it back up again, and said, “I have an audience with His Majesty at four o’clock this afternoon, Orane. Bring me my jewel cases so I may decide what I will wear that His Majesty remember he is dealing with the Mughal’s daughter and not just any old woman.”

      “Shall I send the duke to you?” Orane queried.

      “Yes, I think that might be a good idea,” Jasmine agreed.

      Charlie came, and there was a frankly worried look upon his face. “You know?” he asked her.

      “That Fancy spent the night at Whitehall? Yes. The king has requested my presence at four this afternoon,” Jasmine said. “Does he usually speak with the families of those women he beds? You know him better than I do, Charlie.”

      “I can’t answer that, Mama,” the duke of Lundy said. “Barbara Villiers has always been a law unto herself, with the morals of a mink, and certainly no better than she ought to be. The others were all during his exile. He was on the run, and I doubt the proprieties, if there are such things in these cases, were observed. I don’t know why he wants to see you, and frankly you will have to find out yourself, for I am not bold enough to ask him. I am hardly pleased that my cousin’s very lustful eye has fallen on my niece, or any member of this family. What are we to say to Fancy’s parents? You know what happens when the king beds any woman with regularity.”

      “We have babies,” Jasmine said quietly.

      “You loved my father!” Charlie protested. “It was different for you. Fancy is beautiful. A helpless young widow with no real knowledge of the king or the court.”

      “Fancy is a strong young woman with a mind of her own,” Jasmine told her son. “If he decides to keep her for a time, if she gives him a child, Charlie, her chances of making a good marriage increase, or perhaps not. But you will not stop this. A child makes her fertile. There is always a suitor who is interested in a woman’s fertility. And all of that salacious gossip that has circulated about her thanks to the Tollivers will be swept away with this new turn of events.”

      “The Mughal’s court lost a valuable strategist in you, Mama,” Charlie, the not-so-royal Stuart, complimented his mother.

      “Fancy is a widow. It isn’t as if she had anything to lose by the association,” Jasmine said.

      “You are the matriarch of the family, and the king respects such status,” the duke answered his mother thoughtfully. “Do you think he wants your approval in the matter?”

      Jasmine laughed. “When did your cousin ever ask for anyone’s approval? He even defied the damned Scottish kirk! Now you know as much as I do, my son. Go away, and let me consider what I will wear to my audience with the king.”

      “A royal page came for Bess Trueheart last night,” the duke said. “I suppose if anything had been amiss she would have come back to our apartments. I left Barbara sleeping. I had best return to tell her what little we know. Will you come and see us after your audience with His Majesty, Mama?”

      “Yes, yes!” Jasmine said. “Now leave me, dear boy,” and she waved him from her bedchamber.

      The duke hurried from the house, down the lawns to the quay where his personal barge was waiting to return him to the palace. The Greenwood barge was just drawing on to the other side of the stone dockage. He almost blushed as his niece, accompanied by Bess Trueheart, alighted from the little vessel.

      “Good morning, Uncle,” Fancy said, and then she passed by him and moved up the lawns toward the house.

      Bess Trueheart bobbed him a curtsy, and then she, too, was gone, hurrying after her mistress. Looking up, the duke saw his daughter and Diana in a window. He could almost hear their squeals of inquisitive excitement as Fancy walked toward the house. ’Oddsfish! Was Fortune’s daughter to be a bad influence on his and Patrick’s girls? He would have to monitor the situation carefully, he thought, climbing into his own river transport.

      Cynara and Diana were down the main staircase of the house before Fancy entered from the rivergate. They dashed down the hallway to meet her, shrieking with their excitement. “Tell us! Tell us!” they begged her in unison. And then they heard the stern voice of their grandmother who came up behind them, still clothed in her warm chamber robe.

      “There is nothing to tell,” Jasmine said. “Fancy, come with me. Cynara, Diana, calm yourselves with a walk in the garden. Orane has brought your cloaks and will walk with you.”

      “But, Grandmama,” Cynara protested.

      Jasmine took Fancy by the arm and walked her upstairs, away from the other two girls. She escorted Fancy to her own apartment, closing the door behind her as they entered. Then she turned and asked, “Did you lie with him?”

      Fancy nodded. “It was wonderful, Grandmama!”

      “Very well then, when you are ready to share your adventure with me, you will, I know,” Jasmine replied.

      “He has given me my own apartment at Whitehall,” Fancy told her grandmother. “It is beautiful!”

      “Will you not stay there?” Jasmine wanted to know.

      “I am not certain I am comfortable doing so,” Fancy admitted. “I think I must see what happens first.”

      “ ’Tis a wise decision,” Jasmine said. “We will send a few of your things there should you need them, but Greenwood is your home, my darling girl. Have you eaten?”

      Fancy shook her head. “I am too excited,” she said, “so I decided to wait until I got back. Bess has gone to fetch me something.”

      “Then I will leave you. I approve your discretion and your prudence in this matter. I regret, however, that I cannot keep your cousins under control, and they will undoubtedly burst in here as soon as they have ascertained I have gone. Try not to overexcite them,” Jasmine finished with a smile. She did not tell her granddaughter that she had been called to Whitehall that afternoon. Whatever the king wanted of her was between them alone. She kissed Fancy on both of her rosy cheeks and then left her. Out of the corner of her eye as she moved down the hallway to her own apartments, she saw the flash of Cynara’s scarlet skirts. Jasmine smiled again.

      Fancy was not surprised when moments after her grandmother had left her, the door was flung open. Both Cynara and Diana dashed into her dayroom.

      “We have left Orane stumbling around the maze in the gardens,” Diana said with a giggle.

      “What happened?” Cynara demanded, quick to the point. “Did he make love to you? Was it wonderful? Are

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