Seeing the direction of her gaze, the duke of Glenkirk led his wife forward. "Madame, my wife, Jasmine Leslie."

Jasmine curtsied gracefully. "Welcome to France, madame. I am pleased that we finally meet."

"As am I," the older woman said, kissing her daughter-in-law on both of her smooth cheeks. Then she stepped back a pace. "You are very beautiful, Jasmine Leslie, and quite different from the wife I chose for Jemmie when he was young."

"I hope I compare favorably, madame," Jasmine answered.

Lady Stewart-Hepburn laughed. "Isabelle was a sweet child, but a moon to your sun, my dear. Now, I want to meet my grandchildren! All of them! I consider your bairns mine, too, as my Jemmie has been father to them longer than their own sires, eh?"

For a brief moment, Jasmine was speechless, and her turquoise eyes grew misty. Then, recovering herself, she beckoned her offspring forward. She was truly touched that Jemmie's mother could be so generous.

"Madame, may I present my eldest child, Lady India Lindley."

The young girl curtsied prettily.

"And my eldest son, Henry Lindley, the marquis of Westleigh. My second daughter, Lady Fortune Lindley. My son, Charles Frederick Stuart, the duke of Lundy."

While the girls curtsied, the young boys bowed.

Lady Stewart-Hepburn acknowledged them graciously, saying to the eleven-and-a-half-year-old duke of Lundy, "We are distantly related, my lord, on your late father's side."

"My grandfather spoke of you once," the young duke replied. "He said you were the most beautiful woman in all of Scotland. I see he did not lie, madame."