Still, Rosamund was not being driven from her home and the life she had always known. Autumn had no idea if she would ever return to Glenkirk. She looked at her three nephews, Henry, James, and Robert. By next summer they would have changed, as would their two sisters. She wondered if Henry would be able to bring his family to France, or if he would keep them at Cadby for fear of losing his estates should he leave them. And what would happen to Queen’s Malvern? Would it still be there when this was all over, and Charlie came home again?
The next morning dawned clear and cold. They would travel in the Marquis of Westleigh’s large, comfortable coach, accompanied by a baggage cart. When they arrived in France a coach, already purchased by the duchess’s agents, would be awaiting them, along with horses for both it, the baggage cart, and the travelers, who might on some days prefer riding. There would also be servants awaiting them from Jasmine’s chateau. The duchess had left nothing to chance. It was important that Autumn like France, for it would more than likely be her home for the rest of her life.
She did not want her daughter becoming involved with some exiled English nobleman. Anyone connected with the Stuart court was suspect, in her mind. Besides, what could an exile offer her daughter? No home. No family. No income. No life. Never! Autumn would marry a Frenchman. The Dutch were too dull and stolid, but a Frenchman would understand Autumn. The Duchess of Glenkirk was a woman who believed firmly in fate. No young man had caught Autumn’s fancy in either Scotland or England. The duchess had to believe that her youngest child’s fate lay in France. Bidding Rosamund and her five Lindley grandchildren farewell, she climbed into the coach with her two serving women, Rohana and Toramalli, and with Autumn’s serving wench, Lily. Toramalli’s husband, Fergus, and Adali, would drive the baggage cart. Red Hugh, Jasmine’s personal captain, had already departed for France to oversee the preparations for his mistress. He would meet them there.
“I shall write to you as soon as we reach Belle Fleurs, my dear,” she told Rosamund. “Enjoy your visit to RiversEdge, but after that stay close to home and keep the children near. My felicitations to your parents.”
Rosamund’s soft blue eyes were teary. “I wish you would stay,” she said. “The dower house is always here for you, Jasmine.”
“It is comforting to know that, my dear,” came the reply. Then the window of the coach was pulled firmly up, and the vehicle rumbled off down the gravel driveway toward the main road.
As they approached Warwick Castle, they were joined by Sir Simon Bates and his troopers. The Roundhead captain drew his mount up next to the Marquis of Westleigh.
“Good morning, my lord. How far will you travel with us?” he asked politely.
“I will accompany my mother all the way to Harwich, sir,” came the pleasant reply. “I am loath to see her go, you will understand.”
“Of course, my lord.” Sir Simon turned to Autumn. “Good morning, my lady. You are well, I trust.”
“Mama says I will marry a Frenchman,” Autumn answered. “I do not think I ever met a Frenchman. Have you met a Frenchman, Sir Simon? Are they like us? I wish I could go home to Scotland, but Papa is dead. It makes Mama unhappy to think about him and Glenkirk.”
“She was not like this at Queen’s Malvern,” Sir Simon noted to the marquis. “She was quite spirited with me then.”
“She managed to maintain her composure until she saw Mama. It was then she collapsed into tears, whether over her father or over Bess, or perhaps both, we do not know. She has been childlike ever since, but we believe she will recover in the peaceful surroundings of Mama’s chateau. Poor Autumn,” Henry Lindley sighed, and then he looked straight ahead, preventing further conversation.
Autumn struggled with herself not to break into laughter. She almost felt sorry for Sir Simon, but that she knew him to be a true villian. She gained a certain satisfaction in the fact that he felt guilty over Bess’s death and her supposed plight. They traveled for five long days, finally reaching Harwich on the coast. Autumn kept herself from Sir Simon as much as possible, lest she give away her ruse. Still, in the hours before they sailed he sought her out.
“I hope you will be happy in France,” he said.
“I was happier before I met you and Bess was killed. I was happier before this civil strife and my father’s death. I shall never know that kind of happiness again,” Autumn told him.
“You are not mad!” he said, the relief palpable in his voice.
“Nay, I am not mad, sir, just filled with sorrow. I believe the trip has begun to restore me already.”
“Perhaps you were mocking me, my lady,” he replied.
“Perhaps I was,” she agreed.
“You do not like me,” he said.
“Why should I?” Autumn demanded. “You are responsible for my sister-in-law’s murder. You espouse a cause that has destroyed my world and murdered my king. You and your compatriots have turned England into a dour and dark land. Nay, I do not like you, Sir Simon.”
“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,” he said, totally heedless of her scorn.
“You lust after me in your heart, sir. You have from the moment you stepped through the doorway at Queen’s Malvern,” Autumn said, her voice filled with contempt.
“What would a virtuous maid know of lust?” He was suddenly jealous. How could she be chaste and yet have such knowledge?
“Am I a fool then, sir, that I cannot see desire in a man’s eyes?” Autumn berated him. “You are the fool, I fear, if you believe that! I despise you, and men like you.”
“I could keep you in England,” he said suddenly.
“How?”
Her glance mocked him.
“You committed a murder to which I was witness,” he said menacingly.
“Prove it,”
she taunted him. “You cannot. All you would do is succeed in delaying my voyage. It would be your word against mine. Even your psalm-singing judges in their black garb would not believe that I killed a man. I am a young, unmarried girl of good family. I had no weapon, and this man you allege I killed, where is his body?”
“You are much too clever for a mere woman,” he told her. “You have bewitched me, Autumn Leslie! Perhaps that is the charge I should bring against you.
Witchcraft!”
“Go to hell!” she spat at him. “Try it, and I shall revert to the poor half-wit you believed I had become. Tonight on the tide, my mother and I will sail for France. We shall never again see one another, Sir Simon, and for that I am eternally grateful!” Then, to his surprise, Autumn slapped him as hard as she could.
“That
is for your presumption, sir!”
To her surprise he caught her hand and, turning it palm up, he quickly placed a hot kiss upon it. “We shall indeed meet again, my lady,” he promised her softly, and his dark eyes lingered a moment on her beautiful face. Then he turned and was gone.
She could feel the wetness of his mouth upon her flesh, and Autumn shuddered. She hurried from the private sitting room where they were speaking to her small chamber next door to wash her hands. Scrubbing at the spot his lips had touched, she wondered if she would ever remove the sensation of the kiss from her skin. The feeling was one of deep revulsion. Outside, in the inn’s courtyard, she could hear Sir Simon and his troopers departing. Autumn drew a deep sigh of relief. His threats had been worthless. He could do nothing.
Jasmine entered the little bedchamber and looked hard at her daughter. “Sir Simon came to bid me farewell, and said he was relieved that your indisposition had only been temporary. What did he mean by his words, and what have you done, child?”
“Nothing,” Autumn said. “He said he hoped I should be happy in France. When I spoke he realized I was not suffering any longer.” There was no need, Autumn thought, to reveal the entire conversation to her mother, now that the Roundhead captain was gone.
“The captain of the
Fair Winds
says we sail within the hour,” Jasmine told her daughter. “The luggage is aboard. Come and say farewell to your brother, child.”
They were actually leaving. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by sadness and struggled to hold back her tears. This was difficult enough for her mother without her bursting into tears, Autumn thought.
“Where is Lily?” she asked. She had not seen her maidservant when she had fled to her chamber.
“Lily is already aboard the ship with the others,” her mother said. “Adali says she is terrified of the sea voyage. You will have to make certain she remains calm.”
“But we shall not be at sea for that long,” Autumn replied. “Lily is such a little coward. I am surprised she left Glenkirk.”
“She would not have, but for her Uncle Fergus,” Jasmine told her daughter. “He and Red Hugh are her only living blood kin. Remember that Fergus and Toramalli have raised Lily since she was seven, having no children of their own. As she had no young man to stay for, she screwed up her courage and agreed to come with us. England is one thing, but France an entirely different entity. Do not say she is a coward, for she is not. It has taken all her ability to conquer her fears. She might have returned to Glenkirk and remained in your brother’s service. She is a clever girl no matter her timidity, and she saw the advantage in remaining with you, my child. I know you don’t know her very well yet, but Rohana and Toramalli have trained her well.”
“She is sweet,” Autumn admitted. “I just miss my old Maybel.”
“I know, but Maybel, poor woman, was becomiong bent and crippled with age. She could not have made this trip. I should have replaced her several years ago, but I knew you loved your dear old nursemaid, and she has missed you, Autumn. Still, she is very content, snug in a fine new cottage with a good stone fireplace that your father had built for her. She will never want for anything, and you needed a younger woman to look after you.”
“Who were Lily’s parents?” Autumn asked. “They are never mentioned at all. How are they kin to Fergus?”
“Fergus and Red Hugh had a much younger sister who ran off with a tinker years ago. She died when Lily was seven, and the tinker sent Lily back to Glenkirk, saying that while she was his child, he had never wed her mother and could not take care of her. Red Hugh was in no position to care for the child, and as it was obvious by then that Toramalli would have no bairns, she and Fergus took Lily in, raising her as their own. Now you know. It wasn’t necesary you know before. Come along, Autumn. Your brother will be wondering where we have gotten to if we do not join him soon.”
The Duchess of Glenkirk and her daughter departed the small chamber and joined the Marquis of Westleigh in the courtyard of the inn. Seeing them coming toward him, Henry Lindley felt a pang of sadness sweep over him, but he bravely mustered a smile.
“So,” said jovially, “you are ready to depart on your adventure! I hope, little sister, you will not find yourself in all the difficulties that your female relations in the past have managed to find themselves.” He chuckled at the dark look his mother shot at him. “Now, Mama,” he said, patting her beringed hand, “you will be there watching over Autumn like a dragon, I am quite certain. Besides, she is not like either India, or Fortune in her disposition. She is a much more bidable lass, eh?”
“She has not had the opportunities her sisters had, and besides, Henry, times have changed.”
“My lady, your cloak, and my mistress’s.” Lily hurried up to them with the garments. “Rohana apologizes, but she brought them aboard the ship in error, fearing they would be left behind.” The young girl placed the duchess’s dark blue velvet cloak, lined in beaver, about her shoulders. Then she set Autumn’s garment, which was also lined in thick, warm fur, around her slender frame, carefully fastening the silver frogs down the front of the cloak. Stepping back, she curtsied.
“Thank you, Lily,” the duchess said, and then, turning to her daughter, said, “Bid Henry farewell and go aboard the ship.” Then she watched as her eldest son, the second of her children, and her youngest daughter, the last of her children, bid each other good-bye.
“You don’t have to
do
everything that Mama says,” Henry murmured low, “but
listen
to all she says. She is wise. Still, you certainly have enough common sense to know what is right and what is not. Guard your tongue, your virtue, and your reputation, Autumn. Beware of men who praise you too greatly. They will want either your maidenhead, your fortune, or both, and cannot be trusted. Marry only for love and no other reason, sister. Let me know if Mama needs me, or the others.”
“I will,” Autumn replied. “And I will heed your advice, Henry.” She kissed his cheek. “I love you, brother.”
He returned the embrace, enfolding her in his arms and kissing her tenderly. “God bless you, little sister, until we meet again.”
“Remind Charlie not to get killed,” Autumn said softly, “if you can, Henry.” Then she extricated herself from his embrace and followed her servant aboard the waiting vessel.
Jasmine turned to her eldest son. “Be careful,” she warned him. “Do not get caught up in this foolishness like your brother. Heed me as I know Patrick and the others have. Cromwell and his ilk, with their mean-spiritedness, will not last forever.”
“Will you come home when they are gone?” he asked her.