Intrigued by Bertrice Small Page A

for his presumption. He was beaten at Rethel only this autumn, but now the two Frondes, the first led by Gondi, and the Parisian burghers has joined with that of the princes. Only God knows what will happen now, ma cousine. I am not certain that in coming to France you have not jumped from the frying pan into the fire.”
    “When will the king declare his majority?” Jasmine asked.
    “Next September, following his thirteenth birthday. That was what his father wanted, and frankly, cherie, if the regency went on much longer, I should fear for King Louis’s life. All Anne and Cardinal Mazarin have to do is keep the boy in their hands until his next birthday. Once he is king in fact as well as in name, these rebels cannot continue on lest they be declared traitors. For now they keep France involved in civil wars under the guise of attempting to protect the king from his mother and the cardinal,” the comte explained.
    “What do you think of Mazarin?” she inquired, curious.
    “He learned well from Richelieu. This cardinal is a consummate politician, but he is honestly and entirely devoted to young Louis. The men who struggle against Mazarin are driven by self-interest,” Philippe de Saville told her. Then he patted her hand. “There is nothing for you in Paris right now, cherie, but here in this region, life goes on as it always has.” He chuckled. “No patriotic Frenchman would bring war into the vineyards, ma cousine. The early vintage is paramount.”
    She laughed, then grew more somber. “But are there suitable prospects for my daughter, Philippe?”
    “That is a woman’s matter, cherie. We must ask my sisters, Gaby and Antoniette. They will know, for they have daughters who needed to be married off once. Gaby and ’Toinette are like us, bereft of their mates now, and living with me at Archambault.” He chuckled. “They far prefer the spacious home of their childhood to the little dower houses each would have had to accept. Do you have a dower house at Glenkirk?”
    “Nay, but there is one at Cadby, and why the architects of these houses think widows need less room simply because they no longer have husbands is beyond me,” Jasmine said indignantly.
    “Mama. Adali said we had guests.” Autumn came into the hall. Her gown was of simple silver-blue damask, both bodice and skirt, with a wide collar of white linen edged in silver lace. Her hair was neat but not dressed, being plaited into a thick braid.
    “Tres charmante!” Philippe de Saville said with a smile.
    “This is my daughter, Lady Autumn Rose Leslie, monsieur le comte,” Jasmine said formally. Then she turned to the young girl. “Autumn, this is my cousin, Philippe de Saville, the Comte de Cher. With his permission you will call him Oncle Philippe.”
    Autumn made her curtsey. “How do you do, Oncle Philippe,” she said, and gave him her hand. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
    He kissed the elegant hand and bowed. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, ma petite. How lovely you are. We shall have no difficulty in finding you a husband.”
    “Oh, but I mean to go to Paris to court to seek a husband,” Autumn replied frankly. “Certainly no one of importance lives in the provinces, Oncle. I am an heiress, you know, and will accept only an aristocrat of good family with his own wealth, so I may be certain he doesn’t wed me merely for mine, and will not love me.”
    Philippe de Saville laughed heartily. “Mon Dieu, ma cousine, she is like every other woman in this family. Outspoken, and most frank. Ma petite,” he then said to Autumn, “your mama will explain the situation to you, but for the moment there is no real court in Paris because of our civil disturbances. Within the next year, however, that will change. In the meantime you will partake of society here in the region, and you will not find it lacking, I promise you.” Rising, he directed his next speech to Jasmine. “Come to Archambault for the twelve days of