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Authors: Heather Graham

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BOOK: Sweet Savage Eden
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“That’s quite kind, I’m sure.”

“Jassy, you shall never be meek and mild. No matter what your words say, your eyes flash.”

“Who do you think you will marry?” Jassy asked.

Lenore sighed. “Well, Jamie Cameron has claimed that he isn’t coming to the dance—he does not like such things. Of course, he never wanted to marry. Not before this year. I do not know what has changed him so.” She hesitated. “I do adore Jamie!” she whispered, almost with awe. “When he is near, I feel that I am hot, that I cannot breathe. He is as dashing as the devil himself, so tall and dark and cynical in all things! His eyes, his whisper, make me quiver. But then, he frightens me sometimes too. He will never do as a wife asks. He will never bow down before any man or woman. He is terribly demanding. I am oft surprised that he has managed to be friends with King James.” She laughed. “The king is oft so dour, and convinced that witches are after him! But that is neither here nor there—Jamie is a strong man. Too strong, perhaps. I think that Robert would be the easier match. He is quick to laugh, and to flirt, and still … I feel perhaps he would be the more loyal husband, for his needs are not so great. Jamie would demand both flesh and soul. Oh, but he is so handsome with his marvelous eyes. Just the way that he looks at a woman … but here I go, on and on. You really mustn’t
look so unhappy. Henry will arrange a marriage for you.”

“I do not want an arranged marriage.”

“No,” Lenore said shrewdly. “You want to join the dance.”

Jassy shrugged. Lenore suddenly leapt up. “I’ll help you.”

“What? Why should you?” she asked suspiciously.

“Oh, come now, I am not so awful a person as you may think! We did have the same father—even if your mother was a strumpet—”

“My mother was not—”

“Well, you are the bastard, right? Let’s not quibble. We shall both go, and we shall both wear white. Henry will never know that you are there, for we are so alike that if he sees you about the room, he will think that you are me.”

“He has threatened me with grave consequences, you know.”

“Oh, pooh. Henry is really not such a monster, either. It will be all right. But we must plan now carefully, and in secrecy. And if we play our cards right, perhaps you will capture some handsome young knight!”

Jassy lowered her head. She could not tell Lenore that she slept with the Bible with Robert Maxwell’s flowers pressed into it, nor that she had already chosen the knight that she wanted. She raised her eyes to Lenore’s and could not hide the excitement in them. “Let’s do it!”

When May Day came, the very air was filled with such excitement that Jassy could not be afraid of the possibly dire consequences of her deception. She heard the horses and carriages arriving, and she heard the tenants and servants playing down in the courtyard. She could hear them from her window, and when she looked down from it, she could see all manner of gaiety. Maids and youths already danced around the Maypole. The man with the bear had the animal doing circles upon his hind feet, and a marionette show was already in progress. A flutist was playing, and, in honor of King James, a group of Highlanders played the bagpipes. There was a great deal
of noise and confusion. The day was bright and clear and blue and beautiful. Spring was indeed with them.

Jassy rushed along the corridors until she reached Lenore’s door. She tapped, and Lenore drew her in, giggling. “Hurry!”

An hour later both girls were dressed alike. Jassy was delighted. Her hose were white silk, and her little leather slippers were white and decorated with glass stones. She wore a soft silk shift next to her flesh, and over it a binding corset, and three different petticoats. The dresses themselves were white brocade, with stomachers in a tougher velvet, low-cut bodices, and half sleeves with scores of white lace. Their face masks were covered with feathers and plumes. A little bit of a heel had been added to Jassy’s slippers to make her as tall as Lenore, and they had flattened her breasts as best they could with the corset. They had both done their golden hair up in ringlets, tied through with white satin ribbons.

When they were done, they stared at each other and both burst out laughing. “We are wonderful!” Lenore insisted.

Jassy spun about and peered into her sister’s mirror. She felt beautiful and as innocent as a bride. She paused, hoping that Lenore would not hate her too much if she managed to capture Robert Maxwell. No, for Lenore would be equally happy with Lord Cameron. After all, he was immensely wealthy, and Lenore had known him all her life. They would fare well enough together.

And if not, it would not be Jassy’s fault. Lenore did not know what poverty was. She did not understand hunger and want. Jassy had to capture Robert.

“Come on, let’s slip down together.”

“Together!”

“Just to the landing. Then you must sneak outside, and I will go into the dining room. When the meal is halfway through, I will think of an excuse and change places with you. Now remember, you don’t have to admit anything to anyone, or say anything at all if you don’t want. This is a masked ball.”

“But to come down together—”

“The excitement is in the risk!”

Certainly, Jassy thought sourly. Henry would speak firmly to Lenore if they were caught—he would whip Jassy, then cast her out.

“Let’s go, then!” she hissed.

Amazingly, there was no mishap as they came down the stairway. Jassy quickly found the front entrance, came through it, and ran down the steps, encircling the massive building to come around the back. By then she was passing many people. The duke’s friends, his guards, his fighting men, the farmers, and some of the merchants with their wives and daughters. The gentry mixed with the common folk. Where the pipers played a fling, a guard in half leather armor danced with a barefoot farmer’s lass, and Jassy thought that many weddings were sure to follow.

She stopped before the marionette show. The puppets were beautifully crafted, and the stage scenery in the small box was excellent. Watching it, Jassy had a sense of a deep forest, and a wide ocean before it. Log buildings stood about, and houses made of wattle and daub. An Indian puppet cast herself over the body of a white man, and the white man
WEIS
spared.

“There you are, minx!”

It was Robert. He caught her by the shoulders and turned her around. He was dressed in Italian Renaissance fashion, with short ballooned breeches, long hose, and pointed toe-shoes. His mask barely covered the area of his eyes. He looked briefly around, then brushed her lips with a quick, stolen kiss. “The queen of the May! You are beautiful, my love. Tell me, will you come to my arms this day?”

It did not occur to her that he might think she was Lenore. She nodded, certain that he was aware of their deception. He laced his fingers with hers. “That you insist upon this silly charade! But, love, I am besotted. I shall come where you lead me!”

Delighted, Jassy smiled. She did not speak; she did not wish to impose upon the magic. She indicated the Maypole, and with their hands laced together they came to
it. Some goodwife handed them each a ribbon, and they joined the revelers singing and dancing around it. The goodwife claimed they would all be fertile, and bear many children, like the seeds of the harvest.

Looking toward the house, Jassy was alarmed to see that Lenore had made her appearance. She loosed her ribbon and ran. Lenore saw her and started in the opposite direction. Jassy raced for the house. She heard Robert as he caught up with Lenore. “Vixen! Come here!” And he laughed with the good fun of it. Lenore’s laughter tinkled along with his.

It was not so amusing for Jassy. She came into the dining room and took Lenore’s seat. To her great dismay she discovered that she was between Henry and Jamie Cameron. When she seated herself, Jamie poured her more wine from a silver chalice and whispered in her ear. “I had wondered when you were returning.”

“I—I have returned.”

Henry lowered his head to her and spoke softly. “I shall not tolerate such rudeness. Don’t disappear again until this meal has come to an end.”

Upon her lap and beneath the snowy tablecloth, Jamie Cameron’s fingers curled around her own and squeezed. She wanted to scream. Their hands rested together upon her thigh. She felt too warm, and her heart was thundering. Jamie was staring at her. He always knew what lay beneath the coverings. He was always capable of stripping her down to the heart and soul and bare flesh.

“Lenore! Lady Renwig has just asked you about the duke’s ball at Northumberland.”

The duke’s ball at Northumberland. She had no idea what Lady Renwig wanted. Lady Renwig wore a headpiece that resembled a giant hedgehog.

“The ball … was lovely,” she said. Henry would note the difference in their voices. No, she was her mother’s daughter, she was an actress, she could carry it off. “The weather was divine, and we danced beneath the moon. Even the king enjoyed it all tremendously.”

“To James I!” someone cried. “King of England and king of the Scots! Uniting us at last!”

Then someone else said that they really didn’t want to be united with the heathen Scots, and there was a whisper that such words could be treasonous. Jassy didn’t care. It had taken the pressure away from her.

“Are you all right?” Henry whispered to her.

“I don’t think that she is all right at all. I think that she is flushed beneath that mask,” Jamie said.

“I need air, please!”

“Perhaps I should take her out, Henry,” Jamie suggested. “They are crowning the princess of the May right now; Lenore shall need to be in the ceremony soon.”

Henry lifted his hand with dismissive annoyance. Jassy mustered up the courage to graciously excuse herself.

Jamie’s hand was on her arm. He did not lead her outside but through the door to the entryway and out to the front of the estate where there was no activity. “You’ve the heart of a true flirt, Lenore. The people were too much for you?” He spoke in a husky whisper. She found herself pressed against the house, and his lips touched down on hers.

“No,” she protested.

“Lenore, half an hour ago you were devouring me. Now you are playing the coy maid. What shall it be?”

Her heart was thundering. “I must get out back.” She hesitated, then stood on her toes and kissed him quickly. She mustn’t forget that she was Lenore. “I promise to devour you again, my Lord Cameron!” she whispered. Then she fled. Her knees were weak and her flesh was aflame, and she could still taste his lips upon her. She tried to wipe away the touch as she fled around to the gaiety in the back.

She came around the house just in time to see Lenore mounting a dais. Jassy, catching her breath, tore into the open doorway of the tack house. Desperately gasping for breath, she watched as Lenore was made queen of the May by her brother, the duke. Jane, now noticeably with child, stood at his side. They all laughed and kissed one another. It was a pretty scene. Pretty pageantry for the poor people, Jassy thought. But then, she promised
herself, from this day onward she would never be poor again. She would love Robert and support him in all things. She would check his gambling—if he really had such a habit!—and make him eternally happy and proud.

Henry stood before his people, and they cheered him. He raised his hands—the magnanimous landlord!—and the crowd fell silent. With a flourish he announced the dance of the May.

The musicians began to play. The beat was slow. Men and women moved into one another’s arms.

Lenore disappeared into the crowd.

Jassy saw Robert Maxwell. He was far across the crowd, on the other side of the dais. She had to reach him. She slipped from the doorway of the barn and began threading her way through the costumed dancers.

She walked into Henry and Jane and froze. “Choose carefully!” Henry told her affectionately. She nodded, breathed again, and started through the crowd once again. The tempo of the music picked up. Laughter rose, and the slow, staid dance became wilder. She saw Robert. He was just ahead of her.

A hand clamped down upon her shoulder. She was whisked into strong arms and swirled about with startling force. Stunned, she looked up into Jamie Cameron’s eyes. They began to circle and circle. Jassy tried to jerk free. “No!” she said in panic.

She felt faint. She twisted and saw that the real Lenore was now in Robert Maxwell’s arms. They were swirling to the furious beat with its pagan thunder of drums. They were laughing in each other’s arms.

She looked into Jamie Cameron’s eyes. She saw their hated dark indigo depths, tearing into her soul. She felt the force of his arms around her, felt her dreams plummeting to the bottom of the deepest ocean.

“Now!” the duke commanded, and the music ceased.

She tried to pull away, to free herself. Jamie Cameron ripped her mask from her face. “Jasmine,” he said.

She turned around, dazed. She still could not free herself from his hold. She saw Lenore, and Lenore was
with Robert, and he was kissing her tenderly, and they were both laughing.

Then she saw her brother, Henry, and she saw the raw fury in his face as he came toward her.

“Please, God, have some pity! Let me go!” she told Jamie Cameron, and she wrenched away from him at last and ran.

VII
   
BOOK: Sweet Savage Eden
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