Darling Jasmine by Bertrice Small Page A

children. When we return home to England we shall spend as little time at court as is possible that we may spend most of our time with our family.”
    â€œWill we live in Scotland?” she asked him. “My mother transplanted well there, but has always insisted upon her English summers as she is wont to call them. Is Glenkirk beautiful, Jemmie?”
    â€œVery beautiful,” he said, “but we will only live there part of the year, Jasmine. Perhaps the autumn and winter months. Autumn is the best time in Scotland. The summers we will spend at Queen’s Malvern, and Henry must go to Cadby then. In the spring we shall go to court so that James is not offended. I have overseen his empire’s foreign trade for several years now, but I wish to resign that post now that we are to be wed. My own family has been heavily involved in trading for many, many years with our bankers, the Kira family. I do not know if your grandmother would consider it, but a merger of my interests with the O’Malley-Small trading company could profit us as all. That is something she and I must discuss.”
    Jasmine nodded. “It seems a sensible solution to all our domiciles, but I hope we shall not have to stay too long at court.”
    â€œOnly to the extent it benefit us,” he responded sagely. “We have the children to consider. Charlie is a duke, and Henry a marquis. Their sisters are heiresses, and will be prime on the marriage market one day.” He reached out and took her hand in his, lifting it to kiss the inside of her wrist and her palm. “And we have our bairns to consider as well, darling Jasmine. Perhaps another earl, and a brother and sister or two?” He nibbled on her fingers seductively.
    Jasmine colored becomingly. Of course there had to be children of this marriage, but until this moment she hadn’t really thought a great deal about it. How long had it been since she had made love to a man? Her youngest child was two and a half years of age, and it had been several months before his birth when she and Henry Stuart had ceased their intimacies. It was almost three years, she realized, amazed. She had grown used to life without a man. Without a man in her bed. Did she even remember how to play that game? The fire in the fireplace crackled and snapped, the flames dappling the walls with shadow, while outside the rain beat a light tattoo upon the windowpanes.
    James Leslie saw the confusion passing over her features and realized the opportunity presenting itself to him. To his surprise, however, Jasmine pulled her hand away from him, distress written all over her beautiful face. Shaking her head at him, she ran from the hall. So, he thought, she had felt it too. She wasn’t being coy, he realized, for Jasmine Lindley was a woman of experience; yet she felt a certain shyness with him that was astonishing given the passionate lover he recalled on that one wonderful night that they had shared those several years back.
    He wondered if he should follow her and thought better of the idea. He considered if she had taken a lover while here in France and discarded the notion. The only lover Jasmine Lindley had ever allowed in her bed other than himself, and her husbands, had been Prince Henry Stuart. Then in a burst of clarity he saw the problem. Of course! It had to be! There had been no man in her bed since the prince. He laughed softly to himself. Jasmine, who disliked being at any sort of disadvantage, felt awkward about making love again. He was tempted to go to her and reassure her, but he knew that would be a mistake. He would have to court Jasmine as he had never courted any woman. He had not really courted Isabelle, for they had been promised in childhood, and it was a given that they would marry. It had not been necessary to court his late wife, and there had been none since her death he chose to court and marry.
    It was an interesting concept, courting a woman, but court her he