father is my mother’s brother,” Fancy said aloud. “He is the eldest of my grandmother’s Leslie children. My mother is the youngest child of her second marriage to the marquis of Westleigh.”
“If you know that,” Bess chuckled, “you know more than me, mistress.” Then she said, “Lady Diana is the sweetest lass you’ll ever meet with, but beware of Lady Cynara. She’s proud beyond all bearing of her Stuart blood. She don’t mean to be difficult, but she can be. Don’t let her bully you, and I hope you’ll forgive me for being so frank, but here you are, all the way from the Colonies, and not knowing a soul. My conscience wouldn’t let me rest if I didn’t give you the lay of the land, Mistress Frances. You seem as good a lass as your cousin, Lady Diana.”
“I’m grateful to you, Bess,” Fancy quid. “It is difficult being so very far from home, and a stranger.”
The coach now drew to a stop. The door on the right side was opened by a liveried footman, and the steps pulled down so its occupants might dismount the vehicle. The duke of Lundy stepped forward, and offered his hand to Fancy.
“May I welcome you to England, and to Queen’s Malvern, Niece,” he said, helping her from the coach. “I am your uncle, Charles Stuart, your mother’s younger brother.” He bowed and drew her forward into the group of her relations.
“I am your grandmother.” Jasmine Leslie greeted Fancy with a smile, and then she kissed the girl on both cheeks. “You look nothing like your mother, but you certainly do look like your cousins, and all of you resemble my grandmother. Blood will indeed tell. Welcome to England, and to Queen’s Malvern, dear girl.”
“And this is my wife, Lady Barbara,” the duke continued.
Fancy curtsied politely.
“And your cousins, my daughter Cynara and my niece Diana Leslie,” the duke concluded.
Fancy curtsied again, and her cousins returned the gesture, but all three girls were eyeing each other curiously.
Jasmine put an arm about Fancy. “Bess Trueheart has taken good care of you, Frances?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am!” Fancy replied. “She has been most helpful. I wanted to bring my own servant, Junie-Bee, but Mama said my break with Maryland must be complete.”
They entered the house and settled themselves in the old hall that was Jasmine’s favorite room at Queen’s Malvern. The servants took her traveling cloak and came forth with trays carrying goblets of fine wine and delicate little sugar wafers, which they passed about. The family settled themselves about the fireplace. It was blazing merrily, taking the chill off the late afternoon.
As they sat making polite conversation, Cynara Stuart suddenly burst out, “We’re going to court this winter, Cousin Frances!” Her bright blue eyes were sparkling with excitement.
“We have been to court before,” Diana Leslie said softly.
“But only to be presented to the king,” Cynara replied. “They say he is the best lover in all the world.” She smiled archly.
“Cynara, mind your manners,” Jasmine chided.
“Well, everyone says it, Grandmama,” Cynara replied.
“We only visited a day at court,” Diana explained to Fancy. “We met the queen, too. She is not particularly pretty, but she is very nice.”
“They gave us sobriquets,” Cynara continued. “Everyone who is anyone at the court has a sobriquet. They called Diana Siren. They say she is so beautiful that she could lure men to their destruction, but I don’t think she ever would. Diana is far too sweet.”
“And Cynara they have called Sin,” Diana added with a mischievous grin. “I cannot imagine why. I wonder what they will call you, Cousin Frances.”
“My family calls me Fancy. I could not pronounce my name when I was a very little girl. I called myself Fancy in an attempt to say Francey, which is what my brothers first called me. Soon everyone was calling me Fancy. When someone calls me Frances, I wonder what it is I have done wrong,” Fancy finished with a little smile.
“Your mother’s first house was called Fortune’s Fancy,” the duke of Lundy remarked.
“I never lived in that house,” Fancy told them. “It was destroyed in a fierce storm six years after it was built. It was one of those storms that sometimes comes from the Caribbean in late summer. The house that replaced it is called Bayview. It was built on the same spot and oversees the Chesapeake.” She sighed, and her lovely face grew sad. “I will miss it.” Her voice trailed off.
“Of course you will,” Jasmine said briskly. “It would not be natural if you didn’t. I am an old woman. I have lived all but sixteen years of my life in England and Scotland, yet I still think of the palace where I grew up. It was set on the shores of a beautiful lake in a region called Kashmir. As I was the last, and the youngest of my father’s children, and my mother was English-born, my father thought it better I live there where the climate was more temperate than farther south where his court was, and the air tropical. My first husband was a Kashmiri prince. He was very handsome with dark eyes,” she told them, smiling.
“How many husbands have you had, Grandmama?” Fancy asked.
“Three,” Jasmine answered her, quietly pleased that this new arrival had addressed her as Grandmama. “The first was Prince Jamal Khan. He was murdered by my half brother. That is why my father sent me to my own grandmother in England. I traveled many months to reach here. My second husband was the marquis of Westleigh, Rowan Lindley. He is your grandfather, Fancy. My third husband was Jemmie Leslie, the duke of Glenkirk. And your uncle Charlie’s sire was Prince Henry Stuart, who had he lived would have followed his father, King James, onto the throne.”
“How did my grandfather die?” Fancy asked, curious. “Mama says she never met him and always thought of Lord Leslie as her father.”
“Your grandfather was killed by a religious bigot in Ireland. The bullet was meant for me, however, but Rowan died instead,” Jasmine explained. “I was just enceinte with your mother, dear girl.” She smiled. “You have a very large family here on this side of the ocean, Fancy Devers. In time you will undoubtedly meet many of them. My own grandmother had six living children. They have in their turn spawned many progeny, who have done the same. I believe my grandmother’s descendants now number over four hundred souls in England, Scotland, Ireland, and the colonies.”
“Gracious!” Fancy exclaimed. “I did not know that. All Mama said was that we had family here.”
“Has your mother been happy?” Jasmine asked.
“I have never known Mama to be unhappy until recently,” Fancy replied. “She and Papa can sometimes be most embarrassing, for they seem to love each other fiercely. I thought . . . I hoped I might find that kind of love one day, but . . .” She stopped, and said no more.
“Love,” Cynara said grandly, “is but an illusion, Cousin.”
“Indeed?” her grandmother noted dryly. “Considering your lack of expertise in such matters, Cynara, I am surprised you should believe such a thing.”
“I have heard it said,” Cynara began.
“I am relieved
