Free Darling Jasmine by Bertrice Small

have you not, ma soeur?”
    Skye nodded. “ ’Tis past time, Alexandre.” Then she went on to explain how Lord Leslie had followed her to Belle Fleurs. “Once he loved her, but now I do not know,” she concluded. “At least he is fond of the children, and that is a beginning, I think.”
    â€œBut not enough,” the count observed wisely. “What will you do to help our beautiful Jasmine, ma soeur, for you will do something. Of that I am quite certain.” He chuckled.
    Skye laughed. “Am I so transparent in my old age then, Alexandre? You are correct, of course. I do want to help my darling girl. I thought if I can obtain Lord Leslie’s permission, I would bring the children here for a visit, then 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.”
    â€œAhhh, 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.”
    â€œI was saddened to learn of your son’s death,” Skye said.
    â€œThese 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?”
    â€œDamned few,” Skye replied, and she laughed. “Where is Helene?” I cannot return to Belle Fleurs without paying my respects.”
    â€œCome 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.”

    â€œWhere 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.
    â€œI 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.
    â€œIt stopped raining long enough for us to take the children out into the gardens,” the earl replied glumly.
    â€œMy 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.”
    â€œHow far is Archambault?” the earl asked.
    â€œBut a few miles across the fields,” Skye