"Yes, my lady," he had replied impassively, "I am grateful for your kindness." But when she had gone, he had run up the staircase of the house faster than he had ever imagined he could at his age, delivered the bad news to his young master, and then convinced him, not without great difficulty, to flee for his own safety. Less than a year later, Rogers had died quietly in his sleep. The truth of Lord Jeffers's death went with him.
PART I
Chapter 1
“Welcome to France, madame," the due de St. Laurent said V T to his mother-in-law as he handed her from her great traveling coach.
"Merci, monseigneur," Catriona Stewart-Hepburn said, curtseying stiffly, her famous leaf-green eyes making contact with the due's but a moment and then peering beyond him anxiously.
James Leslie, the duke of Glenkirk, stepped quickly forward, a smile on his handsome face, his arms open to enfold his mother into his warm embrace.
"Jemmie!" she cried out, her eyes filling with tears even as his arms closed about her, and he kissed her soft cheek. "My bairn!"
Glenkirk laughed, and then he hugged his mother. "Hardly a bairn, madame. Nae at my age." He stepped back, and gazed upon her. " 'Tis good to see you, madame. When we learned that you would be coming, we brought over our entire brood so you could finally meet your grandchildren, some of whom are already half grown."
"And your wife, Jemmie," his mother said. "You have been married more than a decade, and I have never met her."
"Jasmine has been so busy having our bairns that I couldna let her travel. She was nae a lass when I married her after all." He tucked her hand in his arm. "Come, and let us go into the chateau. They are all awaiting you, my wife and family, and my sister, and her children."