The king was indeed outraged, but not at Lady Denbigh for deliberately baiting the queen. His anger was directed solely at his wife, whom he decided to punish by sending her entire retinue of French back to Paris. Now Buckingham realized he had gone too far. He did not wish to be responsible for endangering the alliance between England and France, which this marriage represented.

In Paris, King Louis and his mother had heard of the discord between the recently married couple. They were not at all pleased, and decided to send an envoy to investigate. Buckingham quickly persuaded the king to allow the queen's household to remain for the time being.

The plague having finally subsided, the coronation was set for February second. At Glenkirk, James Leslie grumbled loudly at having to make the trek from the eastern highlands of Scotland down to London at the midpoint of the winter. The snows were deep. The trip would be cold, and take forever. They would have to leave immediately after Twelfth Night.

"I dinna intend taking all of you bairns," he said to his assembled family.

"I am perfectly happy to remain home," Fortune Lindley said.

"Henry, Charlie, and Patrick shall go, because the first two are English, and the last my heir," the duke of Glenkirk said.

India held her breath, and threw a beseeching glance at her mother. Adrian Leigh had been permitted to correspond with her, and had kept her apprised of all the gossip, and the coronation plans.

"I think India should go, too," Jasmine finally said.

"Why?" James Leslie demanded.

"Because she is Rowan's firstborn, and an English noblewoman of an old and respected family, who certainly should see her king crowned," Jasmine said quietly. "Besides, this is an excellent opportunity for us to look over the young men from suitable families. Many will be at the coronation who do not as a rule come to court. It is a wonderful chance for her. Besides, it will please me to have my daughter with me, Jemmie."

"Verra well," he said grudgingly, "but I dinna want to see that fancy young viscount hanging about India." He looked directly at his stepdaughter. "He's nae for you, mistress. Do you understand me, India? I hae been patient allowing him to write to you once a month, but you will nae wed such a fellow. This time I would see other suitors at our door. Ye dinna hae your cousin, René, to hide behind any longer. Did you nae know I knew 'twas young Leigh who you were so anxious to be wi, and nae the chevalier?"

India bit back the quick retort on her lips, and hung her head in a contrite fashion. She would damn well do what she wanted to do, but she would wait to get to England before she made that announcement. "Yes, Papa," she said meekly, "and thank you for allowing me to go."

"And ye'll pick a husband, India," James Leslie told his stepdaughter. "Either down in England, or here in Scotland, lassie. You'll be eighteen this June, and you canna wait any longer."

"Mama was only eighteen when I was born," India noted.

"But she hae already hae two husbands," he said. "And, besides, it takes time to make a bairn and birth it."

"I want to love the man I marry," India told him.

"I'll nae force you to the altar, lassie." James Leslie said, "but you must be more tractable and practical in this matter."

"I will try, Papa," India promised him.


***

"What a little liar you are," Fortune mocked her sister afterward when they were alone in their chamber. "You want to marry Adrian Leigh, India. I know you do! And he would like to marry you, although I do not think he loves you. Just your wealth."

"Of course he loves me," India said angrily to her sister. "He has told me so in his letters, Fortune."

Fortune shook her head. "I do not understand you, India. You have always been so careful where fortune hunters are concerned, yet now you become clay in the hands of this viscount. What is the matter with you?"

"You don't understand," India began.

"I know I don't," Fortune agreed, "but I do want to, India. You are my sister and I love you. We are only two years apart, and while we are very different, it doesn't mean I don't care what happens to you, because I do. Adrian Leigh writes you in a manner I do not believe he should be writing you. He behaves as if you were formally betrothed."

"You haven't read my letters, have you?" India was outraged.

"Of course I've read them," Fortune said matter-of factly. "You don't hide them very well, India. If Mama didn't trust you, she probably would have read them, too, and then you should not be going to England for the coronation. This Adrian Leigh is very bold, sister."

"He kissed me," India said. "The first time René caught us, and scolded me roundly. After that we were more careful. Ohhh, Fortune, I cannot imagine my life without him! Papa simply has to change his mind about Adrian. I cannot bear to think of marrying anyone but him."

"But why?" Fortune was entirely perplexed. Certainly Adrian Leigh wasn't any more handsome than their brothers. His prose to India was just plain silly-her lips were two turtledoves-and his spelling was utterly atrocious. What in the name of all heaven was so special about him that India was behaving like a little ninny?

"I cannot explain," India said helplessly. "He is just too wonderful, Fortune, and I love him. You will understand one day."

Fortune shook her head. "You had best be careful, sister," she warned her sibling. "If you don't choose a husband, and you know it cannot be your swain, Papa will choose one for you. Parents still do, you know. It is their right. Mama and Papa have been very lenient with us."

"It must be Adrian," India replied stubbornly.

Fortune shook her head again. "We shall have no peace in this house, I am thinking, until you are safely married, India."

"To Adrian," came the reply, and Fortune laughed.

"I hope to never have a daughter like you," she said.


***

The duke and duchess of Glenkirk departed Scotland on the seventh of January, arriving at their house in London, Greenwood, on the thirtieth of the month. There was barely time for their clothing to be unpacked and pressed. Waiting for them upon their arrival was Viscount Twyford, filled with news. James Leslie was not pleased to see the young man, but listened politely.

The queen, it seemed, would not be at the coronation. Once again she had taken the counsel of her religious advisors, ignoring the pleas of both her mother and her brother, the king of France, who wanted her crowned with her husband. Henrietta, however, had been convinced by Bishop de Mende that the Protestant archbishop of Canterbury could not possibly place the crown of England upon her Roman Catholic head. Only he, a French Catholic bishop, could.

As that was completely unacceptable to the English, the queen would not be crowned at all; nor would she be in the abbey when her husband was. Of course the queen's behavior was outrageous. The duke of Buckingham was openly irate at what he claimed was an insult to England's church, and to Charles himself. The entire court was talking about it, Adrian Leigh told them, all the while throwing languishing glances at India, who kept sneaking peeks at him from beneath her dark lashes.

Adrian Leigh's mother had, to his annoyance, come up to London for the coronation. When she learned from her son that India would also be there, she began to advise him, and while he was no longer fond of her as he had been when he was a boy, he had to admit she was a wretchedly clever woman.

"Her stepfather will not even discuss the matter of marriage with me," Viscount Twyford told his mother. "I attempted to bring it up today when I went to Greenwood to welcome them back to London. I asked if we might speak privately, but he held up that big hand of his and said there was nothing I had to say to him that would possibly be of interest to him. How the hell can I ask for the girl's hand if he won't let me? India says he disapproves of our family because of the Lord Jeffers murder, and because of your poor reputation. Why the hell must you consort with men of such low station, madame? If you must take a lover, could it at least be one of noble blood? Could you not at least be discreet?"

"Blue blood runs cold," MariElena Leigh replied dryly. "Besides, Adrian, my lovers are not your concern."

MariElena Leigh was still a beautiful woman with smooth white skin, dark hair, and large, exciting dark eyes. Reaching out with very long, slender fingers, she plucked a sweetmeat from the plate before her and popped it into her mouth, the pointed tip of her pink tongue catching a drizzle of honey from the corner of her sensuous mouth.

"When the scandals you create endanger my marrying one of the wealthiest virgins in England, madame, they most certainly do concern me," he told her angrily.

"You cannot erase what has been, Adrian," she said. "If her family objects to you, you must take another tact, my dearest. I am surprised you have not considered it. Does the girl love you?"

"She believes she does," he said thoughtfully, "but I am the only man ever to kiss her, or try to court her. She is inexperienced, and has been very sheltered by her family. They have allowed her to refuse the eligible suitors who have come courting her. And why? She believes they were only after her wealth. I, on the other hand, have never mentioned her wealth. Although I am told by those who know that she is an heiress of considerable property."