Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Y OU play a dangerous game, madam," William Cecil warned.

"Nay, Cecil," Elizabeth Tudor replied, "'Tis no game I play at all."

"You might simply have forgiven Lord and Lady de Marisco their marriage, and then asked for their help. Stealing their child is only bound to bring out the tigress in Lady de Marisco, and you do remember the last time you incurred that lady's ire, madam, don't you?"

"It was never proven to our satisfaction that Skye O'Malley was behind those piracies, Cecil!"

"Hah!" the Queen's advisor snorted, and then clamping his lips shut he said nothing more. There was no arguing with Elizabeth Tudor once she had her mind made up, and in this instance he wasn't sure she was not right. It was really very unlikely that Skye O'Malley would willingly help the English Crown against her own marauding family. They would need a strong hold over her, and what was stronger than the bond of mother love?

"The child is all right, Cecil. She is at Hampton Court with her nursemaid, and a proper little tartar she is, I am told." The Queen chuckled. "I saw her the night that she was brought from France. She is de Marisco's image, and I doubt not he loves her dearly. 'Tis another good card I have to play, Cecil! The child is doted upon by both her parents."

Cecil shook his head. "The Seagull was sighted off Margate Head this afternoon. I've dispatched some of your Gentlemen Pensioners to escort them here to Greenwich."

"You are too diligent, my old friend," the Queen chided him. "There is no need to bring them to me, for they will come of their own free will. We will say my gentlemen are a guard of honor." She laughed drily. "Skye O'Malley will appreciate that, Cecil! She has wit, that damned woman! She has great wit!"

While the Queen enjoyed her little joke Sir Christopher Hatton, captain of the Gentlemen Pensioners, found himself on shipboard facing a woman he knew by reputation alone. It was a confusing reputation, for Elizabeth Tudor admired this woman and spoke of her with great respect while at the same time Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, claimed that the lady in question was a passionate drab who could not get enough of his loving. Hatton was inclined to dismiss Leicester's boasting, for the Queen would hardly like any female or accept her at court if she was openly out to snare the earl.

"My lord?" Skye looked questioningly at Hatton.

"I am Sir Christopher Hatton, madam, the Queen's captain. I am here to escort you to Greenwich."

"And by what means, Sir Christopher, are you to escort me? I see no coach, nor do I see horses. Am I to walk, perhaps, behind your horse like a Roman captive?"

Hatton shifted uncomfortably, realizing he had forgotten to provide transport.

Skye laughed easily. "Do not fret, Sir Christopher. I have full intention of hieing myself to Greenwich as quickly as possible, but I have only just arrived after a hectic voyage. I am going to my house on the Strand to bathe and change my clothes before I see Her Majesty. I will not present myself before the Queen until then, unless, of course, you have orders to drag me before Her Majesty immediately."

He had no such orders, and Hatton was totally nonplussed by this beautiful woman who seemed so in command of the situation. "Of course, Lady Burke…"

"Lady de Marisco, my lord."

"I was given to understand that you were the widow of Lord Niall Burke, madam." Sir Christopher was further confused.

"Indeed, sir, and I am, but Lord Burke died some time back, and I remarried. Lord de Marisco is my husband, and has been for two and a half years now." Skye smiled sweetly. "Would you care to come with us to Greenwood, my lord? If the Queen has ordered you to bring us to her you had best not appear back before her without us. I will be happy to send a message to your men on shore."

The door to the main cabin opened, and Adam came in. "The barge is here, sweetheart."

"Well, Sir Christopher? Are you coming with us?"

"I can as easily ride, madame, if you will but tell me where Greenwood is located."

"It is on the river, next to the Earl of Lynmouth's house."

"I will meet you there," Sir Christopher said, and then he beat a hasty retreat.

Adam waited until he was sure the captain had gotten off the ship, and then he chuckled. "You've frightened him to death, Skye. Not an easy task under normal circumstances, I would imagine."

"I see that though the Queen still enjoys the virgin state her taste in handsome young men has not changed," Skye muttered.

"The rumor is that he dances divinely," Adam guffawed.

"Perhaps," Skye said, "but there is a good mind, I'll wager, behind those beautiful eyes of his. Bess Tudor does not suffer fools within her inner circle." With an impatient gesture she picked up her cloak. "Let us go, Adam. Even though I know that our Velvet is safe, I want to know what this is all about. Where are the children?"

"Gone on ahead in the first barge," he answered her, slipping the cape over her shoulders. Bending, he held her a moment against him, and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll soon have our little one back."

The Greenwood barge took them swiftly up the river to Skye's London town house. Mignon had been left behind in France with Guillaume, for they were too old to travel to England, and belonged at Archambault, where both had been born and spent their whole lives. I shall have to train a new tiring woman, Skye thought irritably as they arrived at the landing, but who was that coming down the lawn wildly waving?

"M'lady! M'lady! Oh, dear Mistress Skye, welcome home!"

Skye stopped, and her eyes teared briefly as Daisy came running up to her. For a moment the two women stared at each other, and then they were hugging frantically. "What on earth are you doing here, Daisy?" she exclaimed.

They broke apart, and Daisy explained, "When Dame Cecily told me that you were coming home I knew you would need me, m'lady. Old Mistress Kelly, Bran's mum, came to live with us over a year ago when her man died and the English landlord took her cottage. My babes have given her a new lease on life. 'twas she who insisted I come up to London. The youngest baby's weaned, and don't need me anymore. Come along now, for you've been at sea several days and I know you'll want your bath." She turned her gap-toothed smile on Adam. "I've brought with me that pirate, Kipp, who always served you on Lundy, m'lord. They took everyone off the island, y'know."

"Good Lord," Adam exclaimed, "I didn't think they'd touch my people. What happened to them, Daisy?"

"The bailiff at Lynmouth made room, m'lord."

They had gained the house now, and as they climbed the stairs Skye said, "I'll have to hurry a bit, Daisy, for the Queen is expecting me even now."

"Ah," Daisy smiled, "I knew you'd be back in her favor quick enough."

Entering her apartments, Skye said grimly, "I'm not in the Queen's good graces at all, Daisy, and I'd not be in England except that she stole our daughter. Oh, Daisy, wait until you see Velvet de Marisco! She is the most perfect little girl!"

"But why would she steal your child, m'lady?" Daisy began to undress her mistress.

"She seems to want my help in some matter, Daisy, and felt I would not give it to her unless she had some sort of strong hold over me. She will not recognize my marriage to Lord de Marisco because we did not ask her permission, but it has mattered not to us. We have a beautiful home, Belle Fleurs, in France. I did not think the Queen could touch us."

Daisy frowned. "I wonder," she mused aloud.

"What do you wonder?" Skye replied, climbing into the perfumed tub and settling down into the water.

"I'm wondering if it's about your brothers."

"Tell me what you know, Daisy."

"They're wild, m'lady, every one of them. I've heard Bran say it a dozen times a day. When you ran your family the O'Malleys prospered, and kept the peace; but your brothers have almost run through everything you built up for them, and they harry the English each chance they get. They deliberately bait them, m'lady, and taunt them something fierce, and you know the difficulties in Ireland are bad enough without that. Their mother, the lady Anne, has tried to control them, but she hasn't the strength. They laugh at her advice, and then gift her with things they've stolen from their raids and tell her not to worry, but she does fret and she'll not keep a thing they give her. Still, there is naught that she can do about them. They are too strong for her."

Skye nodded with understanding. Her brothers were proud and stubborn Irishmen with hot heads and no sense. She had left their raising to their mother, for it was indeed Anne's responsibility after Dubhdara O'Malley died, but Anne O'Malley was a gentle woman with a kind heart who had no real strength of her own.

"What have the O'Malleys been doing to irritate the Queen. Daisy? It can't simply be that my fool half-brothers have reverted to the piracies of my father."

"Bran says they've joined with your kinswoman, Grace O'Malley, to fight the English," came the reply.

"Fools!" Skye muttered.

"She's a fascinating woman, Bran says."

"She is indeed," Skye said. "She's from the nobler and more powerful branch of my family, the O'Malleys of Clare Island. She's even married to a Burke, as I was. Her husband is a distant cousin of Niall's. She's a dangerous woman, though, Daisy. She believes herself a patriot. She's fought the English since her youth, and I've no doubt she'll fight them right to the moment of her death. In one sense I admire her courage and her determination; but I have a cooler head than Grace, and she cannot win over England no matter the right of her cause. She does not see this, however, and if she were only responsible for her own life I should not argue how she live it; but she drags others into her schemes. If Elizabeth Tudor wants my aid in preventing my brothers from joining with Grace O'Malley then she shall have it, Daisy. I will not allow them to destroy everything I have worked and sacrificed for since our father, may God assoil him, left the responsibility of the O'Malleys of Innisfana to me!"

Daisy said nothing, but she saw the gleam of battle in her mistress's eyes. With a hidden smile she washed Skye's hair, thinking that it was good to be back here with her lady. She loved her bairns, but wiping their runny noses and wet bottoms was dull stuff compared to serving Skye O'Malley.

There was a knock at the door, and a housemaid appeared to say, "Sir Christopher Hatton awaits you, m'lady."

"Tell Sir Christopher that I am in my bath," Skye said mischievously, "and that I shall attend him eventually. Then see that he and his men have plenty of wine, beef, and bread."

"Yes, m'lady!" The housemaid bobbed a curtsey, and was gone.

"It will be at least two hours before you're ready," Daisy said.

"I make it closer to three," Skye said calmly, and the tiring woman giggled.

"You'll want to eat while your hair is drying."

"Aye, but sparingly. Enough to take the edge off my appetite so that my stomach doesn't grumble while I'm with the Queen, but not enough to spoil my appetite should we be asked to stay for the evening meal."

"Bread, cheese, and some good Devon cider, m'lady?"

"Aye, and a bit of ham too, Daisy. Bring enough for two, for my lord will be hungry also."

Daisy helped Skye from the tub, and carefully and thoroughly dried her mistress off before wrapping her in a long quilted velvet gown to ward off the chill of the autumn afternoon. Next she toweled all the water from Skye's hair, and settled her mistress by the fireplace to brush her own locks dry while she hurried downstairs to the kitchens to fetch the food. When Adam came through the connecting door between their rooms, Skye never even looked up as she continued brushing her hair by the fire.

"You're glad to be back in England, aren't you," she said, hearing his soft, happy humming.

"Aye, sweetheart," he admitted, coming to sit across from her. He loved watching her do simple feminine things.

"I've sent Daisy for food. Hatton and his men already wait below, but I'll not come down until I'm clean and fed. If I have to deal with the Queen I'd best do it from a position of strength. Daisy thinks it's my brothers. The four of them have managed to run through the wealth I spent years building up for the O'Malleys, and now they've joined forces with my hotheaded kinswoman, Grace O'Malley, to harry the English."

"They've not their older sister's wisdom," he said quietly.

"Ah, Adam," she answered, "I would have the English out of Ireland too, but I know that it will take more than the O'Malleys to do it. That is the problem with the Irish. They cannot unite, and as long as they can't, the English will hold Ireland whether the Irish desire it or not. It is our weakness, my love, for Ireland is a land where every man is a king. I am not the stuff of which martyrs or heroines are made, and I'll not sacrifice everything I've fought for and built up for that elusive will-o'-the-wisp called Irish independence. Even if they got it there's not one man they could all agree on to make king. Right now the Irish aren't even serious in what they do. 'Tis the fighting they enjoy. No matter the widows and orphans they make. No matter the misery they cause, the famine, the children dying from lack of decent shelter. All that counts for naught in the face of glorious battle with those who sporadically lead the rebellions. They switch sides with the regularity of a whore entertaining her customers; each of them always seeking a better position over his neighbor, and joining with his neighbor's enemies if he can't maintain his own superiority alone. 'Tis a wicked game, Adam, and I'll have none of it!"

"But if you openly join with the English, Skye, your own people will consider you a traitor. They are too simple to understand the complexities of the situation. Do you understand that, sweetheart?"

"I have no intention of joining the English, Adam. I am the O'Malley of Innisfana, no matter my half-brothers. They cannot take from me that which our father gave me. They must obey me or be oudawed among their own, and I do not believe that they have the stomach for being cast out by their own people. What I shall do will have nothing to do with politics, be they English or Irish. What I do I will do for the survival of my family, and that is all."

"Will you tell the Queen that?" he asked, amused.

Skye laughed softly. "Let Bess Tudor think what she will, for I shall not let her know that I intend to stop my brothers no matter what. If she thinks I do her a service, so much the better for us, Adam."

"You don't intend to be one bit repentant about us, do you?" Adam's dark eyebrows waggled with amusement.

"What difference should our marriage have made to her?" Skye demanded irritably. "Neither you nor I are of any importance to the English Crown dynastically. We have never been permanent members of the court. The only time I followed the court was when Geoffrey was alive. She may say whatever she will, but she has no excuse for denying our marriage or calling our daughter a bastard. We were married by a priest of the Holy Catholic Church, and though the Queen may deny the Church dominion in England before her own authority, she has never denied the right of the Mother Church in spiritual matters, no matter the Protestants and their clamor."

"What a pity," Adam said, "that you and Elizabeth Tudor cannot be friends. You have that sharpness of intellect that the Queen admires."

"She needs too much fawning upon, Adam, and I have not the patience. Neither have you, for that matter. Would you really enjoy spending your days dancing in constant attendance upon a very stubborn lady in her middle years? She would give us no time for ourselves, Adam, and I, for one, could not abide that." Skye gave her head a final touch, and putting the brush aside, she flung her hair back with a graceful motion. "There," she said, "'Tis finished, and I hear Daisy coming. Open the door for her, my darling."

With pleased confusion and a rosy blush Daisy re-entered the bedchamber carrying a heavy tray of food. "Oh, m'lord! Thank you!"

"'Tis nothing, lass, and it is good to see your pretty face again," he answered the tiring woman gallantly.

Daisy flushed again with pleasure, and said, "I've brought cider for you, m'lady, but I knew his lordship would appreciate some good nut-brown English ale. 'Tis a while, I'll wager, since he's tasted it." She set the tray down on the table by the fireplace as they drew their chairs forward.

"Daisy, lass, you've the soul of an angel and the heart of a loyal Englishwoman!" Adam exclaimed. "My stepfather may bottle some of France's finest wines, but I far prefer honest English ale! Thank you, lass!" he said, and bending from his great height, he gave her a hearty buss on the cheek.

"Ohh, m'lord!" Daisy grew redder, and then she scolded, "Sit down, m'lord, and eat. The Queen will be in a fine, tearing temper as it is."

The tray that Daisy had brought them contained thick slices of bread upon which had been set slices of pink ham and wedges of good English Cheddar that had then been toasted. The cheese was yet soft and burning, and the meal delicious to their taste in its simplicity. When the last crumb had been eaten and the ale and cider all drunk, they sat back for a minute in their chairs, smiling across the small table at one another. Another knock at the door brought them the news that Sir Christopher and his men were growing restive.

"I suppose we must get dressed and attend the Queen," Skye said.

"I think so, little girl," Adam replied, rising from the table and walking across the room to the connecting door between their rooms. With a grin he blew her a kiss before re-entering his own quarters.

A delighted smile touched her lips, and then Skye rose with a lazy yawn. "Is the black sapphire gown still in fashion, Daisy?"

"Aye, m'lady. I'll fetch it immediately."

It took almost a full hour for Skye to dress completely, but when she had finished she was well pleased with the results. The blue velvet of the gown was so dark it seemed almost black in color. It had a low, squarish neckline trimmed with two loops of pearls that were sewn in such a fashion as to outline her bosom. From the sides of the neckline protruded a fan-shaped neckwisk of delicate gold lace, and the full gold beribboned sleeves had beautiful matching cuff ruffs of the same lace. The overgown was plain, the undergown of the same material and color, heavily decorated in pearls, gold beads, and golden threads that had been sewn in an intricate pattern of flowers, bees, and butterflies. The bodice was done more simply, being decorated only with pearls.

Skye's hair was gracefully fixed by Daisy into its elegant chignon, and dressed with loops of almost pinkish pearls. She wore a strand of matching pearls about her neck, from which bobbed one enormous sapphire teardrop that nestled between her full breasts. There were pearls in her ears, and even her dainty handkerchief was edged in the jewels. The buckles on her velvet shoes were carved from mother of pearl, and her heels had been covered in the iridescent shell.

With a smile Skye pirouetted for her husband as he entered the bedchamber. "What think you, m'lord? Am I formidable enough to discomfit the Queen?"

"Aye, little girl, and make her jealous as well." He struck a pose. "And what of me, madam? Do you approve my costume. Am I fit to be by your side?"

"Aye, m'lord!" she said with heartfelt admiration, taking in his black velvet costume, the doublet of which was outrageously and heavily decorated in diamonds and gold thread. About his neck Adam had chosen to wear the de Marisco pendant, a large, round golden medallion with a raised sea hawk, wings spread, done in enameled colors with a ruby eye. Between his great size and the complete fashion of his costume he was really quite magnificent.

"Are you ready, madam?" he demanded, noting with some amusement that despite the richness of her jewels, she had chosen to wear upon her hands only his betrothal and wedding rings. Her subtlety delighted him, and he knew the Queen would notice, for Elizabeth Tudor rarely missed a thing.

As he watched them descend the staircase to the main floor of the house, Sir Christopher Hatton caught his breath. They were a simply stunning pair, and the Queen's captain could not help but wonder why they had never been to court in his time. He caught Skye's hand as she reached the bottom step, and raising it to his lips, he said with total honesty, "Madam, you are more than well worth the waiting for, if, my lord de Marisco, you will allow me the compliment to your wife."

"We accept the compliment in the spirit in which it was given, sir," Adam said softly.

The footmen hurried up with their capes, and Skye and Adam were enveloped in the fur-lined cloaks, Skye's with a fur-trimmed hood. Escorted by Hatton, they hurried outside into the crisp wind of the late afternoon and climbed into their waiting town coach. Immediately the door was shut upon them, they were off, their carriage surrounded and escorted on the road to Greenwich by the Queen's own Gentlemen Pensioners.

"Where in Hell is she?" Elizabeth Tudor swore for the hundredth time that afternoon. "Her damned ship anchored hours ago! Where is Hatton? This is intolerable, Cecil!"

"Patience, madam," counseled William Cecil, Lord Burghley. "She will be here shortly." He already knew that Skye O'Malley, that marvelous and impossible woman, had gone to her house on the Strand. He knew exactly what she was doing, but in this particular instance he had no intention of informing his mistress, for Elizabeth would only fly into a temper, and her anger could ruin everything Lady de Marisco was as stubborn as the Queen. Cecil smiled to himself. He had thought of Skye O'Malley as Lady de Marisco, and indeed, despite the Queen's petulance in the matter, she was. That, he knew, would be the first order of business between them. Cecil smiled to himself again, and a small chuckle escaped his lips. It was going to be an interesting evening.

"What do you find so amusing?" Elizabeth snapped, but before Lord Burghley was forced to answer there was a knock upon the door and a maid of honor popped through it to announce, "Lord and Lady de Marisco are here, madam."

Elizabeth whirled. "Surely, Mistress Ann, you mean Lady Burke and Lord de Marisco," the Queen snarled.

"Y-yes, madam, your pardon," the maid of honor quavered. She was going to be in a great deal of trouble if the Queen found out about her liaison with Lord Dudley, and Lettice Knollys, the bitch, had seen them and was threatening to tell.

"They may come in," Elizabeth said regally, and quickly sat down in a high-backed, thronelike chair. As quickly she stood again, remembering the height of her guests and not wanting to be at any disadvantage.

Cecil, knowing her thought, hid a smile behind his hand as Skye and Adam swept into the room. By God, Lord Burghley thought at his first sight of them, this time she has truly found her mate! We'll not beat her now.

Skye's gaze met that of Elizabeth Tudor, and neither of them wavered. Then Skye curtseyed low and prettily as, by her side, her husband bowed with incredibly elegant flair; a flair not missed by the Queen, who appreciated such graces and good manner.

"I have said more than once, Lord de Marisco, that you were wasted upon that island of yours. You are indeed a man fit for my court."

Adam smiled warmly. "Thank you, madam, but if I had my choice I should prefer my rock to your court. I am a simple man, and such radiance is too overpowering for me. I far prefer the quiet life."

"But your choice of companion, sir, is indeed not conducive to peace and a quiet life." The Queen looked defiantly at Skye.

"As I have said, madam, I am a simple man. Simple men follow their hearts, and I have followed mine, as I know you would follow yours were the burden of England not upon your frail shoulders. How fortunate your people are in their Queen."

"And are you, Lord de Marisco, fortunate in your Queen?"

"You have my loyalty, madam, until death."

"But not your heart?"

"No, madam, not my heart, for I cannot give what I no longer possess. I long ago gave my heart to Skye O'Malley."

"I could clap you in the Tower for that remark, Lord de Marisco. I could send you both there, but I suspect it would not make one bit of difference to either you or that Celtic jade you have married in France, in a Popish ceremony!"

A small grin teased at the corners of Adam's mouth, and he strove mightily to keep it from bursting into full bloom. "Madam, I must plead guilty, and I must beg your forgiveness and your indulgence for both my wife and myself; but in all honesty, neither Skye nor I would change anything we have done."

Elizabeth Tudor burst out laughing, and with surprising familiarity she gave Adam a friendly punch on the arm. "That, my lord, is what I like about you!" she exclaimed. "You are just what you seem, and there is no deceit in you! Very well, you are forgiven your marriage, for I am forced to admit that looking at the pair of you I can see you are meant to be together." She turned to Skye. "As for you, madam, we have other, more pressing business."

"First I want my daughter," Skye said bluntly.

"What, madam?! You would bargain with me?" Elizabeth looked outraged.

"Would you not bargain with me?" Skye demanded. "Why else have you taken my daughter?"

"The child is safe at Hampton Court, madam. She will be returned to you."

"When?"

The Queen looked at Skye closely, and then sighing, said, "I will send a messenger out tonight."

"Your word is not enough, madam," came the shocking reply.

Adam put a hand on his wife's arm in warning while Cecil thought for a moment his heart had stopped. It was a fierce insult, and Elizabeth Tudor's gray-black eyes narrowed in anger. At that moment she looked very much like her father.

"Madam, must I remind you that you are my subject, and I am your Queen?"

"You are the Queen of England, madam, but I am Irish. To protect my Burke son's lands I did you a favor, a great favor, madam. I left my homeland and my children to marry for England's sake. The husband you chose for me, madam, was a cruel and unhappy man, but I offered no complaint, for you promised me that you would protect Padraic Burke's lands and his rights. You have given those lands to an Englishman, madam. My son is bereft of his heritage despite your promise to me." Skye looked defiantly at Elizabeth Tudor. "I kept my word to you, madam. Would that you had done the same."

"You are a thorn in my flesh, Skye O'Malley," the Queen said, "and you have ever been thus; but I need your aid now, and I will have it!"

"Return what belongs to me and mine, madam, and you shall have that aid. I want my child, the Burke lands, and Lundy Island. In return I shall do your bidding."

"Your child I will send for this night. The Burke lands I cannot return for fear of offending a loyal Englishman who serves me well, but I will give your son lands here in England. As for Lundy, I return it with one stipulation. You may not live on it, either of you. I'll give you no island base from which to strike out at me again! I will, however, my lord de Marisco, give you lands and a manor house of equal value, for I suspect that in marrying this termagant you have actually done me a service."

"My son is an Irish Burke!" Skye cried, for despite the fact that she knew the Queen was being overly generous, she ached at the loss of Padraic's inheritance.

"Precisely, madam, and by resettling him here in England as a child I shall have one less rebel to contend with in my old age, for he will grow up to be a loyal Englishman I have no doubt!" Elizabeth Tudor laughed at the irony of her victory over Skye.

"Now, madam, I have done much for you, you must in return do something for me."

"Give over, little girl," Adam said softly. "You'll not beat her in this. She's been generous where she might have been harsh." Skye looked up at him, and he saw the sadness in her eyes, which were wet with diamond tears she would not shed. "You cannot always win, Skye," he said, and she nodded. This time their battle was a draw.

"Very well, madam," she answered, but her very agreement was edged in defiance, "what can I do to help you?"

"Your brothers and the O'Malley fleet have joined with that great rebel, your kinswoman, Grace O'Malley, to wage war against me. They harry the shipping lanes, which hurts this nation's commerce, and they encourage rebellion in Ireland. It is impossible, madam, to stop them for they are, I am forced grudgingly to admit, marvelous sailors. I sent Drake to Ireland a year ago, and even he cannot catch them! You could. You could stop your brothers, madam, and if you do you will cripple Grace O'Malley. That woman is a menace to England, and I would have her stopped!"

Skye pretended to consider the Queen's request, and then she said, "If I can stop my brothers, madam, I will need pardons for them all. I will not betray my family even for England's Queen."

"Granted."

"Then I shall try, madam," Skye said with feigned innocence.

"You had best succeed, madam!" came the sharp warning.

"I can only do my best, madam."

"Then God help your brothers," the Queen cackled, her good humor suddenly restored. She peered closely at Skye. "You took your time in getting here, madam. I was told that your ship arrived at midmorning."

"I could not appear travel-worn before England's Majesty, madam. I went home and took a bath," came the calm reply.

"You kept me waiting while you frolicked in your bath?" Elizabeth was outraged.

"I should have done Your Majesty no honor had I not bathed and attired myself in my finest clothes, madam. I am not so ill bred as to arrive before you smelling of sweat and the sea."

"You claim to do me honor, madam, and yet I sense that you actually defy me," Elizabeth grumbled. "But enough! You will stay for the evening meal, and you will tell me about the Duc d'Alen?on. He seeks to marry me, y'know."

"In France they speak of nothing else," Skye said demurely.

Elizabeth Tudor preened, and then with girlish enthusiasm asked, "What is he really like?"

"He is an amusing man, madam. I believe you would find him quite compatible."

"Amusing?"

"He has wit, Majesty, or at least as much wit as any son of Catherine de Medici could have."

"They say he is badly pock-marked."

"He grows a beard even now to disguise it, madam. He is an attractive man, and a great favorite with the ladies."

Cecil listened to Skye and marveled. One moment she gave to the Queen, and in the next instant she took away. The duke was charming, but he was his mother's son. He was pock-marked, but handsome. He longed to be with Elizabeth, but the ladies of the French court would be desolate when he left them. Cecil smiled. This woman was definitely the Queen's equal, but that was a thought he would keep to himself.

Leaving the Queen's closet, they adjourned to the dining hall where the court was awaiting the arrival of Elizabeth Tudor. The Queen had now transferred her attentions to Adam, and Skye was left to herself.

"As fair as ever," a displeasingly familiar voice murmured in her ear, and Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester, came around her into her view.

"As lecherous as ever, I've not a doubt," she returned, irritated as his eyes plunged boldly to fasten on her breasts. "You look as if you would eat me, my lord. Is there not meat enough at the Queen's board to satisfy you?"

"Only you could ever satisfy me, Skye."

"Only you, my lord, could ever revolt me so much with your want of delicacy."

"Ah, you Celtic bitch, as always your refusal of my passions ignites me with desire," he exclaimed, backing her against the wall. His arms pinioned her while his head dipped to press hot, wet kisses across the tops of her breasts.

Remembering a similar situation of several years earlier, Skye thought with a wicked little smile: The fool never learns , and then she brutally jammed her knee into the Earl of Leicester's groin. She was rewarded by instant release, and the silly, pained, surprised look upon his face. Calmly straightening her gown, Skye pushed past him, saying, "Dudley, I can't believe you don't remember our last encounter of this nature. I would also remind you that the last time you accosted me you were rather violently removed from my house by Lord de Marisco. He was only my friend then. Now he is my husband, and a most doting husband at that. I would that you think on it before you approach me again." Then with a polite mocking curtsey she moved from the shadows and up to the Queen's table, where a place had been made for her.

Robert Dudley swore, and then swore again as he heard low laughter near his ear. "Hatton, say one word of what you saw, and I swear I shall run you through!" he hissed through gritted teeth.

Sir Christopher Hatton chuckled with pleased laughter. "I would not have believed it, my lord," he jibed at the earl. "Did you not tell me yourself that she was a passionate little drab, and quite hot for you? By God, Dudley, I should hate to see a woman who didn't like you!" Laughing merrily, he moved off, leaving the earl most discomfited.

After the meal there was dancing, and although Skye would have far preferred to leave Greenwich and return to her house, she could not depart until the Queen had left, and Elizabeth Tudor, it seemed, was full of energy, and as merry as May this night. She danced with verve, and more with Sir Christopher than any other man in the room. Remembering Adam's teasing remark about Hatton dancing divinely, Skye had to admit that he was the best dancer she had ever seen; and seeing Dudley sulking on the sidelines gave her great pleasure.

"Good even, Mama," Robin said, coming up to stand beside her.

Skye turned, and with a pleased smile gave her son a swift kiss. "You are not surprised to see me?" she asked.

"The Queen told us some weeks ago that you would be returning to court, Mama."

"Did she also tell you the manner of her invitation to us, Robin?"

The young earl looked puzzled. "I don't understand," he said.

"The Queen's agents kidnaped Velvet," Skye said quietly.

"God's nightshirt!"

"Do not use such language, Robin," the mother in Skye scolded.

"Your pardon, Mama, but I was so surprised by your disclosure I could not help myself. Is Velvet all right?"

"So the Queen assures me, although I have insisted that my baby be returned immediately. Velvet is at Hampton Court."

"Why?"

"Your uncles in Ireland are causing difficulties, and the Queen wants my aid in suppressing their high spirits."

Robin laughed. "The Irish are always causing trouble," he said matter-of-factly.

"This is serious," Skye said, "and I would remind you, my lord earl, that you are half Irish."

"By blood, yes, madam," Robin replied quietiy, "but my heart and my loyalties are all English."

"Yes, Robin, they are. I have raised you to be your father's son. I might have done otherwise. I, however, am Irish, but I do not condone these useless rebellions in which your uncles have involved themselves, and I must stop them before they do any serious damage to the family."

The young earl nodded. He understood the difficulty of his mother's position. "I am sure that the Queen has not hurt Velvet," he said.

"No, she has not, but nonetheless it was a terrible thing to do to us. I have, however, exacted my price in return for my aid. The Queen has recognized our marriage, both Adam and your brother, Padraic, have been given estates, and Lundy has been returned to us."

"Padraic has his lands back?"

"Not in Ireland. The Queen would not give him back the Burke lands."

Robin saw the sadness in his mother's eyes, and he put a hand on hers, saying, "I am sorry, Mother, but at least we are now less a house divided, and for that I am glad."

"Where is Willow?" Skye asked her son, changing the subject, for she could no longer think of Padraic's loss without weeping.

"Look for the Earl of Alcester, Mama," Robin said. "Wherever he is, Willow will be."

"God's blood!" Skye swore. "Did I not warn her about involving herself with a man?!"

"'Tis not Willow who has involved herself with Alcester, but rather the other way around," Robin said with a smile. "He is quite smitten with her, and in a position to offer marriage, Mama."

"Tell me."

"James, Lord Edwardes, Earl of Alcester," Robin began. "Aged twenty-four, a widower with one child, a daughter. Educated, well mannered, neither drinks nor gambles to excess. He seems to enjoy the ladies, but is no lecher, I'm told. I rather like him, Mama, and Willow, for all her hoity-toity ways, likes him too, although she hasn't given the poor fellow the least encouragement." Robin chuckled, a sophisticated sound far beyond his years, Skye thought. "He's rather shy, I think."

"What of his family?" Skye demanded, for this young man surely had a family who would object to their son's marriage to a young woman not of the nobility.

"His parents are both dead, Mama. He has a paternal grandmother, I am told, but no one else of note."

"What of his finances? Surely there is some gossip about that."

"He's not rich, Mama, but neither is he a pauper. I have been told that his estate is small, but well kept." Here Robin made his voice even lower. "He doesn't know the extent of Willow's wealth, Mama. No one at court does, for she hasn't been here that long. Besides, Willow is rather closemouthed about her affairs, and spends very little of her allowance."

Skye smiled with satisfaction. Her daughter was being quite discreet, and that was all to the good. She looked about the room, and finally spotted Willow standing amid a group of laughing young people. How lovely she looked in her garnet-red velvet gown, and how delighted Khalid would have been with her, the doting mother couldn't help thinking. "Which one is Alcester?" she asked Robin.

"The young man by her right elbow."

Skye let her gaze assess her daughter's would-be suitor. He was a pleasant-looking young man of medium height with light brown hair. He was well built, and his young face had an intelligent and kindly look to it. "Introduce me," she commanded Robin.

Robin offered his mother his arm and led her across the floor to where his sister stood with her friends. Suddenly Willow saw them coming, and her eyes lit up joyfully. Breaking away from the group, she ran the few steps between them.

"Mama!"

Skye enfolded her daughter into her arms and hugged her tightly. "I have missed you these weeks," she said, "and how lovely you look tonight, my precious. I see you are wearing Nicolas's pearls, and how pretty they look on you."

"Mama."

Skye looked up, and then moving away from Willow, she saw Robin with the Earl of Alcester. "Yes, Robin?" she said, feigning surprise.

"Mama, I would present to you Lord James Edwardes, the Earl of Alcester. My lord, my mother, Lady de Marisco."

Alcester caught her hand and, raising it to his lips, kissed it. "Lady de Marisco, it is my pleasure. Now I know where Mistress Willow gets her beauty."

"Really, Alcester," Willow said, flushing with pleasure though her voice was sharp with pretended annoyance, "I am said to look like my father."

"Both you and your mother have dark hair," poor Alcester protested.

"Quite true, my lord," Skye agreed. "How astute of you to notice it, and as for you, Willow, surely I have taught you better manners. His lordship offered you a compliment. Thank him, and accept it graciously." Skye smiled at her daughter, then at the earl. "Now," she said, "you will excuse me, for I must find my husband. Willow, we are at Greenwood for several days, and then we must go to Ireland. Please come to see us." Skye kissed her daughter, and then smiling again at Alcester, she bid him farewell.

Finding Adam, she remained with him until the Queen had left and they were free to depart for Greenwood. As they rode back to their house she told him of Willow's suitor. "I think we will be approached by his lordship before we leave for Ireland. Find out what you can about the young man. Robin's information is encouraging."

"What does Willow think of him?" Adam queried.

"I have not had the opportunity to find out, but I suspect from what I have seen she is not averse to his suit. We shall see. I will never force her to a husband, as my father forced me to Dom O'Flaherty."

Adam put his arm around his wife. "All that was long ago, sweetheart. We will be certain it is what Willow wants."

Neither Skye nor Adam had the opportunity to check further on the Earl of Alcester, however, for the following afternoon he arrived unannounced at Greenwood. "I hope you will forgive what must seem a lack of manners on my part," he apologized, "but I understand that you will not be staying in London long, and I wished to speak with you about Willow."

"Indeed, sir, be seated," Adam invited the earl, who sat down on the edge of a chair. "What is it you wish?"

"I want to marry your daughter, sir," the earl said.

"Willow is my stepdaughter, my lord. She is my wife's child by her second marriage to a Spanish nobleman."

"Why is it you wish to wed with my daughter, my lord?" Skye asked quietly.

Alcester flushed, and then said as quietly, "Because I love her, madam."

"I do not see how you can love her, my lord, though I doubt not your good intentions. You have known Willow but a short time. My daughter and I are very close, and he has not written me of you, nor has she said anything about her affections being engaged."

"Madam, Willow is the most discreet of maidens. From the moment she arrived at court I could see she was different from the others. She is chaste where many are not. She is kind, and devout, and intelligent. I worship the very ground she walks upon, and I would make her my wife."

"If, my lord," Adam said, "we were to consider your suit—and mind you, we will do so only should Willow approve—what dowry would you ask?"

"I am not a wealthy man, my lord," the earl replied, "but I am not poverty-stricken. I can provide comfortably for a wife. Whatever dowry you wish to offer I will accept."

"You are not aware then that my daughter is an heiress, my lord?" Skye looked closely at James Edwardes.

"An heiress?" The Earl of Alcester looked dumbfounded. "I d-did not know, madam."

Studying the young man's face, Skye decided that he was telling the truth. "Willow's father was a wealthy man, my lord, and she is also the heiress to her godfather, Sir Robert Small. Should she agree to entertain your suit a generous dowry will be set aside for you, but the bulk of my daughter's wealth must remain in her hands. If you are willing to agree to that then we shall speak with Willow."

"Do you control your own wealth, madam? I had heard the rumor that it was so."

"I do, my lord, and it has always been thus since my first marriage. A man is entitled to his dowry, but a woman is also entitled to have her own monies so she may not be beholden to anyone. You have noted that Willow is an intelligent girl, and so she is. Intelligent enough to know how to invest her capital, for I have taught her and so has Sir Robert. If you will trust her she will increase her wealth."

"Unusual as it is, madam, I will agree to your terms, for I truly do love Willow. There are others, madam, like the Countess of Shrewsbury, Bess of Hardwick, who control their own wealth. If Shrewsbury can live with it then surely I can." He smiled mischievously, and seeing his smile for the first time, Skye thought that the earl was a most handsome young man. "Besides, madam, Willow is far prettier than Bess of Hardwick."

"I should certainly hope so!" Willow exclaimed, coming through the door of the morning room. "Good day, Mama, Papa. Alcester, what are you doing here?"

"He has come to ask for your hand in marriage, Willow," Skye answered, thinking that her daughter was perhaps a trifle too pert. "I am not sure you are old enough, however."

"Mama!" Willow shrieked, and blushing, she turned to James Edwardes. "Mama is not teasing? You really want to marry me?"

The earl looked down at Willow with a tender expression in his brown eyes. "My dear, I have wanted to marry you from the moment I first set eyes on you. Will you have me, Willow? I will do my best to make you happy." Boldly he drew her close to him, and gazed into her face.

Looking up at him, Willow whispered, "Oh, James, I did not dare to hope. Yes! Oh, yes! I shall be so proud to be your wife!"

The earl bent to kiss Willow, and Skye felt Adam reach for her hand. She looked at him, and he saw the tears in her eyes. He knew her thoughts in that moment. She was thinking of Willow's father, Khalid el Bey. "He would be proud of her," Adam said softly.

"Yes," she answered him, "he would be proud of her." And then Skye thought of how she had kept Willow safe all these years, safe to reach adulthood, to marry a fine young man like James Edwardes. Yes, Khalid would be content.

Willow looked positively radiant, all rosy with blushes, and the earl was suddenly very sure of himself and totally masculine. Skye and Adam both smiled at the young couple, and then Skye spoke.

"You cannot be married until next spring after Willow's fifteenth birthday," she said, "and you must have the Queen's permission. She becomes, I have found, most irritable when not kept informed with regard to the lives of her courtiers."

The earl nodded, and then turned to Adam. "When would you like to sign the betrothal agreements, my lord?"

"Not until after the Queen has given her permission, Alcester. We will not give Elizabeth Tudor the chance to spoil your happiness by claiming that she was not informed from the very beginning."

The Queen was told that evening that the widowed Earl of Alcester wished to marry Mistress Willow Small, a maid of honor. Looking at the pair, Elizabeth Tudor was strangely touched. Usually the defection of one of her maids was cause for a temper tantrum; and in the short time Willow had been at court the Queen had grown fond of the young girl. Still, Willow's innocence was unquestionable, and Alcester was known to be an honorable man. "If I give my permission," the Queen said, "when would the marriage be celebrated, madam?" and she looked at Skye.

"Not until after Willow's birthday next April, Majesty," came the calm reply.

The Queen nodded. It was a respectable amount of time for a proper betrothal period. "I am happy to give my permission for your daughter to wed with the Earl of Alcester, Lady de Marisco. I shall expect to be invited to the wedding provided that you have settled things in Ireland by then."

"I shall do my best, madam," Skye said demurely. Not for the world would she spoil Willow's good fortune.

There was a knock at the door of the Queen's closet where they had been gathered, and Elizabeth called out her permission to enter. The door opened to reveal Sir Christopher Hatton, who was carrying something in his arms.

"You sent for this, Majesty."

"Give it to Lady de Marisco," the Queen commanded.

Hatton handed his bundle to Skye, and with pounding heart she took it as the woolen cloak fell away to reveal the sleeping Velvet. "Oh, my baby," she whispered as Adam leapt to her side with a soft oath to gaze down at their daughter. With a gentle fìnger he touched Velvet's pink cheek, and the baby opened her blue eyes to sleepily murmur, "Papa," at him.

"Now, madam," Elizabeth said, "you have your daughter back. When do you leave for Ireland?"

"As soon as I have settled my children, Majesty."

The Queen, who knew that little Velvet was her godchild, chucked the baby under the chin, and said, "Court is no place for my goddaughter. I assume that you will send her to Devon, but what of young Mistress Burke and her brother? Would you allow them to remain here at court? Lord Burke may join my pages, and his sister would be safe in the Countess of Lincoln's household."

Skye knew that Elizabeth Tudor was demanding her children as hostages for her success in Ireland. "Lord Burke," she said, "I know would be thrilled to take his place among your pages, madam, and with his brother, the earl, to watch over him I know he would be safe. My daughter, Deirdre, however, is another matter. Although I feel she would be better off with the countess, she carries a fear of being separated from me again. Might we leave that decision up to her?"

The Queen's face softened with sympathy. She understood the fears of a lonely child well, having been motherless since age three. "Of course," she agreed. "If mistress Deirdre wishes to go with you I will understand."

Much to Skye's surprise, Deirdre wanted to stay with Geraldine FitzGerald, the lovely Countess of Lincoln. Like her sister and her brothers, the little girl was fascinated by the Tudor court. It was one thing to be left with an elderly uncle or aunt, but to be left at court was quite another matter! Skye felt almost betrayed, and grumbled indignantly. Adam, however, found the whole thing amusing on one hand, and very fortuitous on the other.

"Your mission is a serious one, sweetheart," he said. "It is better we not be encumbered by the children. I fear not the Queen's captivity, but in Ireland it could be dangerous for them to be used as pawns."

She knew that he was right, and so they drove down to Devon where Velvet was left safely at Wren Court with Dame Cecily. Told of Willow's betrothal, Dame Cecily burst into tears, sobbing that she was so very, very happy for her baby.

"I can't believe she's old enough to wed," the good woman wept joyously. "'twas only yesterday I was changing her nappies."

Skye smiled to herself as she patted her old friend comfortingly. Willow, she thought, amused, would be simply mortified to be reminded of such a thing. She reassured Dame Cecily that James Edwardes was a wonderful man, and the perfect husband for Willow.

Then Skye took the opportunity to see Daisy's two small sons. Both looked like their father but for their gap-toothed smiles, which were their inheritance from their mother. The de Mariscos did not stay long in Devon though, departing the day after their arrival for Innisfana Island, on the west coast of Ireland, the ancestral home of Skye O'Malley.

Skye had taken the precaution to send a message on ahead calling her brothers into a family council. She knew that were they not on Innisfana they would be easy to reach for Grace O'Malley's sailors never ventured far from Ireland. It had been a long while since she had seen them, over five years, and in that time they had squandered everything she had built up for the O'Malleys since her father's death. She knew that her gentle and soft-spoken stepmother had exercised no control over her four sons; but why had she allowed them to take up with Grace O'Malley? She knew her brothers well enough to know that they were not patriots. She could only conclude that they had joined with Grace simply for the fun of a little hell-raising.

It was not harmless fun, however, Skye thought, and had her own family not been so intimately involved, she would have let her half-brothers pursue their own destructive course. She had no future in Ireland, and neither now did any of her children. She agreed with Elizabeth Tudor, who had said: "There is only one Christ Jesus, and one faith; the rest is a dispute about trifles." She and the Queen would never be friends, but Skye's loyalty was never seriously questioned, for her views were Erastian enough to protect her.

They sailed south into St. George's Channel, around Cape Clear, and north to Innisfana. It was November now, and the northerlies were sweeping down the Atlantic from the Arctic. Still the sky was clear, and although cold, it was pleasant sailing. Only once did they see another sail on the horizon, but that was from a ship inward bound to England from the New World, and they did not pass within hailing distance of each other.

Skye owned eight ships, and they were all with her, having by fortunate coincidence been in England at this time when she needed them. Like all the O'Malley ships, they were sleek and built for speed as well as cargo. Each one was well armed in order to defend itself, and as a fleet they were a powerful weapon, particularly since they had added more cannon as they were carrying no cargo this time.

Several days before they sailed Skye had assembled all her crews, and spoken quite frankly to them about why she was going home, and the fact that they might find themselves in a fight. About half her men were Irish, and she offered them the opportunity to remain in port and take passage on other vessels rather than fight their own people.

Bran Kelly spoke for the Irish. "We're your men, and our loyalty is to you, the O'Malley. We've all got family in Ireland, most of our people on Innisfana or O'Flaherty lands. If yer brothers cause more trouble with the English it's our women and children who'll bear the brunt of their vengeance."

There came a chorus of ayes as the Irish nodded and whispered among themselves.

"We'd just as soon stick by you, m'lady," Bran continued, and the rest of the men again nodded their agreement.

There was little to do on the voyage, and Skye spent a good deal of time pacing restlessly about the decks, or leaning over the bow rail staring hard ahead into the endless horizon. She disliked dissension, and because she must reassert her clan authority upon her brothers she was going to cause much dissension within her family. She wondered how Anne would react. Would she agree with her stepdaughter, or would she side blindly with her beloved sons?

"Dammit," Skye said aloud, "it was not up to me to raise them! Why could Anne have not been strong?"

Adam stood behind his wife, his strong arms wrapped about her lithe form. "You judge people by your own yardstick, Skye," he said softly. "Most women are not strong like you. They are meek, gentle creatures who rely upon their men for everything, including their very thoughts. Anne O'Malley has been widowed for sixteen years now. Her whole life has been the memory of your father, and her boys."

"My dear brothers, who have all been spoiled rotten and obviously have no sense of responsibility," Skye fussed. "I sent them to the sea to learn its ways, and I saw that they were taught to read and to write, and to do their numbers. Yet they waste everything I have built up for them, and they play at rebellion without a care for their families or their people. In Da's time a man might be a freebooter without incurring the royal wrath, but times have changed."

"Yes, little girl, you see that, for you are out in the world, but your brothers have never left Ireland, and have no desire to do so. Change is slow in coming to your green and misty land, Skye. Your people are a hundred years behind England, and you know it."

Skye pressed her lips tightly in a narrow line of disapproval. There was no use talking, for talk would change nothing. Adam was right, Ireland was behind the times. She sighed deeply with regret, and wondered if she could really prevent her four half-brothers from destroying themselves, from destroying Innisfana and their people.

"Is this a fool's chase?" she asked Adam, turning her face up to his.

"I don't know, sweetheart. You can only try."

"Damn Grace O'Malley," Skye said vehemently. "She plays the power game, as does the Queen. But I'll not let her destroy us. I'll not!"