adventures, sharing their passion with any number of men!” Cynara said enthusiastically, and then she continued. “No. We are stuck in a deep wagon track of propriety and custom. Go to court. Flirt for a brief time, and then accept a marriage proposal from a suitable gentleman of good family, and equal or better wealth. Marry. Ruin your figure with babies. Grow old! It is all so damned predictable! I don’t want that kind of I life! I want excitement! If my father wasn’t the king’s cousin, I should have attempted to seduce His Majesty myself,” she concluded. “How thrilling to be a king’s mistress!”
“Young women of our station and wealth are supposed to have the kind of life you describe,” Diana said. “That is why my mama let me remain here with Grandmama. I should like to wed with a duke or a marquis, an earl at worst. I look forward to my own home, and the children who will cement my position in life. And I shall have love even as all the women in our family have been loved. I do not want the kind of adventures that Aunt India or Aunt Fortune had; nor do I want to have to leave my homeland and my family behind over a matter of religion. I want a man who will love me above all else and do whatever he must to have me for his wife! That is what I want!”
“You both seek the same things,” Fancy told them. “You just have different methods for going about reaching your heart’s desire.”
“And you?” Cynara said astutely.
“I have been married. I don’t choose to be again, but that does not mean I don’t want to be loved,” Fancy answered her.
“You were married for less than a day,” Cynara said scornfully. “Whatever happened to you, you know that eventually Grandmama will see that you are wed again. Besides after being a king’s mistress, anyone other than a husband would be considered a great comedown socially.”
“I was not raised socially,” Fancy laughed. “And one night in the king’s bed hardly makes me his mistress.”
“Nonsense,” the practical Cynara said. “The Colonies have their own form of society, I am certain. It is not like that of a royal court, but do not tell me that you are all equals, for I know it is not, cannot be, so. There are landowners, and merchants, and shopkeepers, slaves, and bondservants, fishermen and simple farmers. Every civilization has its social structure. We have learned that in our studies with our tutors. Diana and I have been well educated. Grandmama has seen to that. She says a woman must be able to speak intelligently with her husband after the passion, else he grows bored with her.”
“What did you and the king speak of afterward?” Diana inquired innocently.
“There was not a great deal of conversation between us last night,” Fancy admitted as Cynara rolled her eyes. Then she continued, “I will not kiss and tell, Cousins.”
Bess arrived with a tray and set it down on the table. She sent a piercing look at Cynara and Diana that told them in no uncertain terms that they were to leave.
“We’ll be back,” Cynara promised.
“I am going to sleep after I eat,” Fancy told them, and when they had gone, she giggled. “Did you see the look on their faces when I said that?” she asked Bess. “I suspect they think all we did the whole night long was make love.”
“You didn’t?” Bess was frankly curious, but Fancy knew by now that she could trust her servant.
“The king does not spend the night with his mistress. He always returns to his own apartments,” Fancy explained. “He is most respectful of the queen.”
“Is he?” Bess didn’t think a man who fathered and recognized bastards at the rate the king did was particularly thoughtful of his poor barren spouse, but she kept those reflections to herself. “Eat your breakfast,” she said to her mistress, “and then we will decide what you wish to leave in your apartments at Whitehall, mistress.”
Fancy sat down and found her appetite was great this morning. She finished the tray of food Bess had brought her and then turned her attention to what she would send to the palace. It was at that point her grandmother’s maid, Orane, arrived.
“Madame has sent me to advise you, mistress,” Orane said. She then went through Fancy’s wardrobe much to the outrage of Bess.
“Foreign cow!” Bess muttered.
Orane turned and laughed. “You can learn much from me,” she told Bess. “And you had best pay attention, for your mistress is now in an especially high place. What would a country girl such as yourself know of those things? I, however, have served a lady who was mistress to not one but two kings.”
“Who was that?” Fancy asked Orane.
“Your aunt Autumn,” Orane said. “First, she was mistress to King Louis of France and bore him a fine daughter, Mademoiselle de la Bois. Then when she returned to England, she served King Charles in the same capacity. Her little son, by him, was born dead sadly.”
“My aunt was the king’s mistress?” Fancy was astounded.
“Oui, she was. And the king once attempted to seduce Lady Diana’s mother, the duchess Flanna,” Orane laughed.
Again Fancy was surprised. “Now I understand,” she said slowly, “why it is said the women of this family are like honey to a bee where the royal Stuarts are concerned.”
“Mais oui,” Orane agreed. “You all have beauty, charm, and intellect, but there is also a je ne sais quoi about you that cannot quite be defined but is certainly enticing to the gentlemen.” She stepped into the wardrobe chamber. “Now, let us see what you will need.”
Orane chose two gowns that Fancy might wear during the day and two gowns she might wear in the evening. Then clucking, she hurried away to her mistress, telling Jasmine, “She has no robes de chambre to entice him, madame. Her night garments are plain. Simple. Tedious. They cannot possibly attract or seduce a man such as King Charles. You must remedy this lack at once if she is to keep his favor!”
“Can any of my robes de chambre be altered until we can have others made?” Jasmine asked.
“Madame!” Orane sighed.
“I know, I know,” Jasmine said. “I am an old woman, but surely there is something among my things that can be made suitable, at least for tonight. Rohana! Look in my wardrobe.”
“There is a new garment that could be recut,” Toramalli spoke up. “Rohana, you know the one of which I speak.”
Rohana nodded and went to fetch the required garment. She returned and spread it out for her mistress to approve. It was a garment of lavender silk, cut with a long skirt, and flowing sleeves lavishly trimmed with a waterfall of cream-colored lace.
“We can recut the round high neckline,” Orane said, “and it will be perfect. We will also make a narrow belt to accentuate Mistress Fancy’s dainty waistline. It will be suitable for tonight. Then we will have time to make others.”
Jasmine nodded. “Can you two do it while I prepare myself for my appointment with His Majesty?” she asked her two elderly servants.
They nodded in unison and moved slowly off with the silk gown.
By the time Jasmine was ready to depart for Whitehall that afternoon, the gown was remade and packed with Fancy’s other garments. Jasmine climbed
