Wild Jasmine (65 page)

Cullen Butler then looked to his cousin. She was still pale and unconscious. “Master Maguire,” he said quietly, “could you please carry her ladyship to the castle? Her servants can attend to her better there. She has sustained a most severe shock this day, more than you can possibly know.” Aye, Cullen Butler thought sadly. One husband murdered was bad enough, but two? He did not know if Jasmine would recover from such a tragedy. “Fergus Duffy. Are you brave enough to carry a message to England for me? To her ladyship’s grandmother?”

“I am!” came the swift answer. Though he would have denied it with his dying breath, Fergus Duffy liked his English mistress well.

“Then come back with me to Erne Rock, and I will arrange it, but first see to his lordship’s body. We cannot leave him lying out here in the fields. The crows are already gathering for carrion.”

They did the priest’s bidding. Jasmine was carried to her chambers, where Rohana and Toramalli, already apprised of the events that had transpired this afternoon, were waiting to attend her. Rowan Lindley’s murdered body was brought to the church and lain upon the altar to await its coffin. Adali, ever his lady’s right arm, kept everyone in perfect order, including the two English wet nurses, whose first instincts were toward hysteria.

“Calm yourselves,” he told them. “There is no danger, and the children need you. If you become frightened, your milk
will dry up and the babies starve. All will be well, I assure you.”

Rohana and Toramalli undressed their mistress and bathed her now feverish body with cool, perfumed water. Tenderly, they laid her in her bed, and took turns watching over her. A day passed. And another. Jasmine remained unconscious, barely breathing, barely moving. Then, in the night between the second and third days, she began to cry softly in her delirium. The two serving women half listened at first, but when Jasmine repeated the same words over and over again, Toramalli sought out Adali.

“You must come,” she told him. “She is speaking, and yet she remains unconscious to everything about her. We are afraid, Adali.”

He followed her to Jasmine’s bedchamber and stood over his mistress, looking down upon her, his heart aching. She was so pale, and for all her nineteen years, she looked so young and helpless.

“We have kept her clean, and comfortable, Adali,” Rohana said. Both sisters had dark circles beneath their eyes, he noted. “Now she has begun to rave, and her words frighten us. Watch with us awhile. You will see, and you will hear also. We do not know what to do.”

He sat by Jasmine’s bedside with them, and just as he was about to nod off with his own exhaustion, Jasmine spoke.

“
Rowan. Rowan! Love me! I cannot bear it that you leave me without loving me a final time.
” Her eyes were tightly shut.

Adali sat straight up. Had he heard her correctly? It could not possibly be. He must be more attentive to his mistress.

“
Rowan. Rowan! Love me! I cannot bear it that you leave me without loving me a final time.
”

Adali stiffened with shock, his brown eyes meeting those of Rohana and Toramalli.

“There is more,” Toramalli said softly. “But wait.”

“
I will follow you, my love,
” Jasmine said. “
I will follow you into death rather than be without you. Oh Rowan, love me but a final time! I do not think I can live without you!
”

And Adali watched horrified as tears slipped from between Jasmine’s closed eyes and ran slowly down her pale cheeks. “How long has she been crying thusly?” he asked them.

“For several hours, Adali, and with each passing hour her life force grows weaker. What are we to do? She is willing herself into death. We speak to her, but she hears us not. We
have reminded her of her children, but there is nothing for her but her husband,” Toramalli said, her voice edged with deep concern.

“I must think,” Adali said, his brow furrowing. When the thought first came to him, he pushed it away, shocked by his own notion; but Jasmine began to cry out again, and her desperation burned into his very soul. He arose, telling the two women, “I must find Father Cullen. Remain with our mistress. I will be back as quickly as possible.”

On the previous day, when it was clear that Jasmine would not quickly recover from her shock, the priest had said the mass of burial over Lord Lindley, entombing his body in the stone vault beneath the church where were buried generations of the lords of Erne Rock Castle. Now, in the hours before the dawn, he knelt before the altar in the church praying for Rowan’s soul. Hearing someone enter behind him, he arose and turned to face Adali.

“We must talk,” the eunuch said to him.

“Come into my cottage,” the priest directed. The two men entered the small house, settling themselves before the fire, which just barely glowed with still-alive embers. Cullen Butler placed some peat bricks upon the coals, and fanned them into a flame. The room began to warm. “Is it Jasmine?” he asked, knowing that of course it was.

“My mistress is dying, Father Cullen,” Adali said quietly.

“You are certain?” the priest responded.

Adali nodded. “I am, but I think I can save her. Before I do, however, you must know what is involved. I cannot bear this burden by myself. It is far too great a responsibility for me to carry alone.”

“I will shoulder my part of your load willingly,” Cullen Butler replied. “Jasmine is my cousin, and I love her too. Tell me what it is you must do to save her from a premature death.”

Adali began slowly to explain, repeating his mistress’s words to the priest, then saying, “Her body must be physically satisfied so that her mind can release its hold upon Lord Lindley. If that happens, I believe she will regain consciousness again and we can prevent her demise. Her own sense of duty to her children, to the marquess’s memory, to Maguire’s Ford, and to Cadby will eventually overwhelm her grief.”

“Are you proposing that a man be sent into her bed, Adali?” Cullen Butler asked him, shocked by the very thought.

“I am,” the eunuch replied.

“It is unthinkable!” the priest cried.

“She will die unless we do it, and she may die anyway, but I will not give her to death willingly, without a battle, Father! I was nothing until my French father’s blood gave me the opportunity to serve as her mother’s eunuch. When Lady Gordon departed India, she placed Yasaman Kama Begum into my keeping, and I have never failed to do my duty toward my mistress. It was I who ferreted out Prince Salim’s wicked intent toward the princess! It was I who kept her safe from him! She is the daughter I could never have!
I will not let her die!
” Adali declared with more passion than Cullen Butler had ever seen him exhibit in all the years that the two men had known each other. Adali had always gone about his duty with a calm, deliberate air. He had always been the voice of reason in an otherwise turbulent world. His great distress now was evidence of his fear.

“Why do you think such a thing would save her?” the priest asked, realizing that he was weakening in the matter.

“You lived in India long enough, Father, to learn the truth of how the mind can overcome the body. Remember the yogis on their bed of nails? The firewalkers whose feet were never burned? The holy men who could go for weeks without food or drink? And the snake charmers who could put away their fears for their own bodily safety while handling the deadly cobra snake? I think the same principle may apply here. If the princess’s mind can be made to believe that her husband has come to her and made love to her a final time, I think she can recover. We cannot just stand by, Father, and allow her to die.”

“I will pray by her bedside,” Cullen Butler said.

“Your prayers will be certainly welcome, but whether by her bedside or in your church, what matter? And you have been praying for her already, haven’t you? It has done no good, Father. God helps those who help themselves, and we may have the solution if we are but bold enough to execute it,” Adali said. “Time grows short.”

“Who?” the priest asked, realizing that he was giving in to the eunuch’s persuasion, and wondering if God would forgive him this apparent denial of everything he had ever been taught and was trying to pass on to others. Still, he reasoned, if Adali were right …

“Rory Maguire,” Adali told him. “He’s already in love with the princess, although I doubt he has ever dared to admit it to
himself. He is a young man of great honor and good sense. We may trust him.”

“Will he do it, Adali?”

“I will persuade him,” Adali replied.

“Let us go, then, and find him,” the priest said. “This deed had best be done as quickly as possible, and before the dawn of another day. If Jasmine is growing weaker by the hour, she may not have much time left, in which case neither do we.”

The two men hurried from the priest’s cottage to the gate house where Rory Maguire had taken up residence. They knocked upon the door until they were finally admitted by the sleepy Irishman. Closing the door behind them they pushed their host into his day room, and when they were certain he was awake, they laid their plan before him.

Rory Maguire flushed, startled, by their explanation of the situation and their unorthodox method for resolving it. “
I cannot!
” he cried. “My God, Father, how can you even be party to such a suggestion?”

“If you do not do as we bid you,” Adali said stonily, “and my mistress dies, you will have killed her. Her death will be upon your head, lord of Erne Rock Castle. Can you live with that? Can you live with the sight of her orphaned children each day?”

Rory Maguire groaned with despair.

“You love her, lord of Erne Rock,” the eunuch relentlessly continued. “Only your honor has kept you from admitting it to yourself, but I am a man who sees into the heart. I see your love for her because I love her also. I will do what I must to save her, and you must too.”

“What if she awakens and finds me with her, and not her husband?” Rory Maguire demanded. “She will cry rape, and I will have brought shame upon my family’s good name. I did not remain in Ireland to do that, Adali. What will you do if that happens?”

“I will give her a mild sleeping potion before I let you enter her chamber. You will then make love to her and depart. If God is with us, then she will awaken tomorrow unknowing of what has transpired, but alive. We three will carry the burden of what we have done, but it will be an easy burden if my lady recovers her health, will it not?”

“And what of her serving women?” Rory Maguire asked.

“I will send them to their beds even before you come,” was
the answer. “The fewer people who know of the deed done, the better.”

“Ye’ve said nothing, Father,” Rory Maguire said. “Have ye no words for me in this matter?”

“You have my blessing,” Cullen Butler told him softly.

The young man shook his head wonderingly. “Two more unlikely conspirators I’ve never seen,” he told them. “Very well, I will do yer bidding, though I am ashamed of it. Still, I cannot live with the thought that my actions might have saved her should I refuse you.”

“In half an hour’s time,” Adali told him, “Rohana and Toramalli will be in their own beds, and all will be in readiness for you. Do what you have to, and then return here.”

The priest and the eunuch left the younger man.

“Your scheme is worthy of a cardinal,” Cullen Butler told Adali as they parted company. Then he returned to his place before the altar of the little stone church that Jasmine had given him.

Adali hurried into the castle and up the stairs to his mistress’s apartment. Within her bedchamber Rohana and Toramalli continued their watch. “How is she?” he asked them.

“Weaker,” Toramalli replied, and Rohana wept.

“Go to your beds, and do not return until the morning is fully two hours old,” he told them firmly. “I will keep watch over her.”

Putting a comforting arm about her twin sister, Toramalli led her from their mistress’s apartment and to their own chamber at the top of the house. She wondered what plan Adali had concocted to save their princess. There was no doubt in her mind that he would save her. That she and Rohana had not been invited to share in that plan could only mean that Adali did not want them to know of it.
What would he do?

Rory Maguire left the gate house and walked slowly down to the lakeshore. Gritting his teeth, he plunged into the dark waters, ducking his red-gold head beneath to cleanse it. A man never entered a lady’s bed without bathing. His mother had always told him that, and although there had been many times he had not obeyed her admonition, this time he would. Hurrying back to his quarters, he put on clean breeches and a clean shirt. He decided against wearing his boots, and then changed his mind. If he was seen by anyone barefooted within the castle in the early morning, gossip would ensue for certain.

His heart was beating more quickly than usual. He could hear it faintly within his ears. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about what he was about to do. Yet now, walking up the staircase of the castle to her chambers, he must. The eunuch had said that he loved her, but that his honor had prevented him from admitting to himself. Had Adali been right? He sighed wearily. Aye. Adali had been.

From the first moment he had seen her, he had been lost. It wasn’t just her beauty, which was certainly formidable. It had been her bold, nay, regal manner that had enchanted him. Irish women were hardly shy and retiring creatures, but this simple woman, he thought, would have taken a sword up to defend what was hers if she had had to do so. Her swift actions regarding her husband’s murderer were worthy of a Celtic warrior. Then he remembered that it was women warriors who had once taught the men of Ireland how to fight. He knew nothing of this India from whence she had sprung; but she certainly exhibited her Irish ancestry.

The castle, to his relief, seemed deserted as he turned the handle on the door and stepped into the master chamber. Walking through the day room, he hesitated at the bedchamber door; finally, with a soft sigh, he entered. The place was gently lit with beeswax candles, and a good fire burned within the fireplace. Walking to the bed, he gazed down at Jasmine. God, she was so pale! She seemed hardly to breathe, and her closed eyelids were purple with her agony. This isn’t right, he thought unhappily. Then Jasmine began to cry out as Adali had said she would.