borders filled with flowers. It wasn’t at all a terrible place. There were even marble benches upon which to sit.
“Here is where they are buried,” Cynara said, pointing.
“Who?” Fancy asked.
“Our great-great-grandmother, Skye O’Malley, and her sixth husband, our great-great-grandfather, Adam de Marisco, the earl of Lundy. She was wed with him longer than any of the others. They grew old together, but it is said she was still beautiful to look upon even on the day she died. She had a smile on her face when she breathed her last, Grandmama says,” Diana explained.
“Grandmama adored her,” Cynara added.
In the hall that night Jasmine said to her three granddaughters, “Tomorrow we shall enter the storerooms, my dears. It is time to begin preparing your wardrobe for court. And I shall choose from among my jewelry suitable pieces for each of you.”
“You will spoil them, Mama,” Charlie Stuart said to his mother, but the tone of his voice was affectionate.
“Of course, I shall spoil them,” Jasmine said with a smile. “Grandchildren are for spoiling, Charlie, as you yourself know.”
“I do not spoil Brie’s children a great deal,” he protested.
“Only because they are at Lynmouth, and you do not see them as much as you should,” Jasmine teased him.
“Who is Brie?” Fancy whispered to Cynara.
“My older half sister, the countess of Lynmouth,” came the soft reply. “She was Papa’s eldest child by his first wife who was killed during the wars. I hardly know her myself for she lives in Devon and was grown by the time I came into the family.”
“Oh.” This was such a huge family, Fancy considered. She wished now she had listened a bit more carefully when her mother had spoken of them. And where was Devon? She would have to ask or be considered a complete lackwit.
In the morning the three girls came to their grandmother’s apartments, and Jasmine took them to the storage rooms, where they were faced with an enormous choice of materials from which to choose. Many of the bolts of fabric had been brought to England with Jasmine at the beginning of the century. The walls of the room were lined with cedar, and there were no windows that would allow sunlight to fade the rich colors of the materials. Cynara was openly, and greedily enthusiastic.
“I have always wanted to visit this room,” she admitted. Her bright blue eyes swept about, trying to take in all the bounty before her. Finally she closed them for a moment. It was all too much.
“I think,” Jasmine said quietly, “you should each choose a single color and its tones around which we will build you each a new wardrobe. It will make you unique amid all the others who will be at court this winter. Fancy, I think for you a rich turquoise blue to set off your beautiful eyes. There are many shades in the turquoise family, and you shall wear them all, dear girl. With diamonds, pearls, and Persian turquoise for your jewels. You may be a bit bolder as you are the oldest, and a widow. But I see you in teal blue as well.” She looked at Cynara. “And for you, my proud and greedy pet, shades of red. Scarlet, and claret, and burgundy and crimson with diamonds rubies and pearls. And for our sweet Diana, shades of rose, and green also, to match your eyes. You shall have my emeralds, diamonds, and pearls to wear. You are like a flower, and we shall present you as one.”
“Should I not wear a less conspicuous color, Grandmama?” Fancy asked. “I am, after all, a widow.”
“The less said about that unfortunate misalliance the better,” Jasmine said sanguinely. “You do not mourn Parker Randolph. Why be a hypocrite about it, my dear girl? He was a monster!”
Seeing an opportunity, Cynara spoke up. “What did he do that made him such a monster?” she inquired innocently.
“I do not choose to discuss the matter, Cyn,” Fancy told her cousin sharply. “Perhaps one day but not yet.”
“Did I not warn you that you were not to discuss your cousin’s tragedy?” Jasmine said sternly to Cynara.
“Well, you brought it up,” Cynara replied pertly.
“Cyn!” Diana hissed at her cousin.
“Nay, Diana, she is right. I did bring it up, but I have the advantage of age and authority, Cynara. You do not. You will obey me in the future, or you shall not have my rubies to wear to court, and I know how badly you want them.” Jasmine smiled wickedly at her granddaughter.
Cynara laughed in reply. “I would do anything for those rubies, Grandmama,” she responded, “but you know that, of course.”
“Then we understand each other, eh, my pet?”
“That is precisely the problem, Grandmama. You have always understood me far too well,” Cynara complained with just a faint hint of irritation that she dared not to show.
Jasmine laughed now. “There are times when you remind me of me when I was your age,” she said. “I, too, was very determined to have my own way; and my own grandmother was equally determined that I should not for my own sake, Cynara. Life does not always play fair, as I suspect you will eventually discover to your regret. You have been fortunate, so far, but your luck may not always hold.”
“Yours did,” Cynara said.
“Not always,” Jasmine responded quietly. “Now, let us choose the materials that we will have fashioned into wonderful gowns for you all. Fancy, my child, here is a marvelous brocade the color of Persian turquoise. It will make you a fine gown for your first visit to court. You shall be much admired. I always found the gentlemen attentive when I wore a gown the same color as my eyes.”
“I am not certain I want to be admired,” Fancy said softly.
“Fancy says she doesn’t want a husband,” Diana explained.
“Of course she doesn’t,” Jasmine agreed. “At least not yet. But there will come a day when she meets the right gentleman and changes her mind. My first two husbands were murdered, and my princely lover died suddenly. I decided that I was bad fortune for the men who loved me, which is why Diana’s grandfather, my beloved Jemmie, had to spend two years chasing me.” She laughed with the memory. “But when he finally caught up with me. Ahhhh!” She smiled, and grew silent.
“Ahhhh?” Fancy could not resist her question.
“I learned that I was wrong,” Jasmine replied with a chuckle. “And one day you will learn you are wrong too, but you are not ready yet. It would be strange if you were. For now, you will go to court and have a good time the way all young women of your age and class should at this time in their lives. Ohh, look! This teal blue silk is heavenly!”
And so it went for the rest of the day. When all the materials had been chosen and were neatly stacked in three piles, one for each girl, the storage chamber was yet full. Jasmine looked about her.
“It never seems to grow empty,” she remarked, “but then each time one of our ships returns from India or China, they bring me fresh bolts of cloth to add to this collection. Still, some of what came with me all those years ago is here.”
Several days later a tailor arrived from London with his staff, which would be supplemented
