All the Sweet Tomorrows

him plainly, and without guile. He looked up at her again, and said quietly, 'I respect your grief, Lady Burke.' Then to change the subject he asked, 'Do you have children?'

Her smile lit her whole face, and she said, 'I have four living sons and two daughters.'

'They will like Beaumont de Jaspre,' he assured her. 'The climate is mild and pleasant most of the year, and your children will enjoy bathing in the sea.'

'My children will not be coming with me, m'sieur.'

'But why?' He was surprised, and now he understood the reason for the sadness that lurked deep in her fabulous blue-green eyes.

'My eldest son, Ewan, must remain on his lands, m'sieur. His full brother, Murrough, is a page with the Earl of Lincoln's household, and must remain with the court if he is to earn lands and possibly a peerage of his own. My third son is the Earl of Lynmouth. He is the Queen's favorite page, the small boy who now stands on Her Majesty's right. As for my youngest son, Lord Burke, he is but two and a half months old. He, too, must stay on his lands, and he is much too tender to travel besides. My daughters are to remain here also. Willow is nine, and heiress to my business partner, Sir Robert Small. Deirdre is just sixteen months old, and, like her baby brother, too young to travel.'

'I do not understand, Lady Burke, why you agreed to this marriage,' Edmond de Beaumont said. 'I have been told that you arc outrageously wealthy in both monies and lands, and now you say you have children much too young to leave. Surely you are not one of those women who seek a great title?'

'If the choice were truly mine, M'sieur de Beaumont, and your uncle the Holy Roman Emperor himself, I should not wed with him; but the choice is not mine. It is the Queen's will that I do so, and therefore I must.'

'Why?' He was distressed for her.

'Because I am Irish, M'sieur de Beaumont, and the English have had a stranglehold on my homeland for several centuries now. I agreed to marry your uncle because if I did not, my infant son's lands would have been parceled out among the Anglo-Irish, those sycophants of the English monarchs.

'I am a realist, M'sieur de Beaumont,' Skye continued. 'I could not hope to beat the English in a fair fight, for unfortunately the Irish are not a nation able to unite behind one ruler. If we were the English would not be in our homeland. My duty is to my children, and to the memories I have of their fathers. I am responsible for the lands of four families, as well as an enormous commercial interest and a fleet of vessels. Should I beggar myself and my children for an ideal? I think not.'

'Madame, I wonder if you are the right woman for my uncle.'

'Why?' She smiled at him. 'Because I am outspoken, m'sieur?'

'My uncle is used to a more complacent type of female,' he smiled back, and she thought that he had a beautiful smile.

'If you complain to the Queen that I am not suitable,' she said in a more serious tone, 'Elizabeth will wonder what I have done to incur your displeasure, m'sieur. That would endanger my infant son, Lord Burke. I promise you that I shall be exactly the type of wife your uncle seeks. They tell me that he is old, and not in good health. I vow to nurse him most tenderly.'

'Who on earth told you that my uncle is elderly, Lady Burke?' Edmond de Beaumont was surprised. 'Uncle Fabron is but forty-five, and is in excellent health.' He saw the shock upon her face. 'My God, they have lied to you in order to gain your cooperation!'

She was very pale, and he placed a surprisingly warm hand over her trembling, clenched ones. 'Lord Burghley said that your uncle was an older man in ill health. That I should be home within a year or two at the most. Dear God, my babies! I shall never sec my babies again!'

'This is infamous!' Edmond de Beaumont accepted the fact of arranged marriages, but this beautiful woman was being used in a terrible way. 'I shall speak to the Queen myself,' he said. 'You cannot be made to leave your children like this!'

'No!” Her blue eyes were huge and frightened. 'M'sieur de Beaumont, you must not speak to anyone of this! You will do me no kindness, and I shall lose everything. I have accepted my lot, and so must you.' She turned her hand so she might grasp his tiny one. 'Please, m'sieur,' she said.

'Madam, I am already your devoted servant,' he answered. 'It will be as you wish. I would be your friend.'

'You already are, M'sieur de Beaumont, and since you are, I think you should call me Skye.' She calmed herself now, assured by his gentleness and air of concern.

'With pleasure, Skye, if you will call me Edmond.'

Across the room Robert Dudley sneered to the Queen, 'Look how she simpers at the dwarf so sweetly. It sickens me! Is the duc a dwarf also? How amusing that would be, Bess! It would take two of them to equal one Geoffrey Southwood, or Niall Burke!' He laughed nastily.

'Are you jealous, my lord?' Elizabeth Tudor's voice was sharp. 'I thought you had gotten over your passion for Lady Burke. Do not try my patience, Robert. I have been most generous with you, and you will repay my kindness.'

'I adore you, Bess! You well know it, but you will not marry me. I am only a man, madam!'

'Fie, Rob, lower your voice,' the Queen chided. 'Others are looking at us, and in answer to your question the Duc de Beaumont is not a dwarf. His nephew showed me his miniature, which was sent for his intended bride. He is a well-favored gentleman. Lady Burke should not be overly unhappy in Beaumont de Jaspre.'

'She will be out of the way,' Dudley answered. 'You do not fool me, Bess. I know you far too well. Lady Burke is in your subtle mind an enemy. By sending her to Beaumont de Jaspre you rid yourself of that particular enemy.'

'I also gain a spy against France, Spain, and the Papal States,' the Queen said quietly. 'I have no doubt that Lady Burke will hear many interesting things that she can pass on to us.'

'By God, Bess,' Lord Dudley said admiringly. 'You are totally ruthless!'

The Queen smiled archly at the Earl of Leicester. 'Dance with me, Rob,' she said, 'and we shall discuss what to give Lady Burke as a wedding gift.'

Skye and Edmond de Beaumont were watching the Queen and Lord Dudley capering merrily to a sprightly tune played by the musicians, when William Cecil came up to sit with them.

'So you have made friends with the Petit Sieur de Beaumont, Lady Burke, and you, m'sieur, see the exquisite prize we are sending to your uncle. Do you think that he will be pleased?'

'How could he not be, Lord Burghley?'

'The Queen has decided that you will depart here at the end of April, Lady Burke. M'sieur de Beaumont will travel with you and your party to Beaumont de Jaspre.'

'The Queen has promised me that I may remain in England until Sir Robert has returned my lord. I will not go until then! What is all this indecent haste about? I will leave by mid-May. I must first have a trousseau made, for the gowns I have to wear here in England and Ireland will be totally unsuitable in a warmer climate. Would you have me arrive to wed the duc in my shift?'

Edmond de Beaumont chuckled aloud at the look of discomfort upon the face of the Queen's Secretary of State and Lord Treasurer. 'There is no great rush, Lord Burghley,' he said. 'After all, my uncle is in robust health, and the miniature I shall send him tomorrow of Lady Burke should increase his ardor. If we leave in mid-May as Skye suggests, we will be in Beaumont de Jaspre by June, a perfect time for a wedding, especially there.'

'Ah… yes, yes!' William Cecil began to edge nervously away.

'You have been most kind my lord,' Skye said sweetly, but her eyes were blazing with anger. 'How fortunate I am that my husband-to-be is in such fine health.'

'Indeed, indeed, madam!' Lord Burghley murmured, and then turned and hurried off into the crowd.

'You are no mean opponent,' Edmond de Beaumont laughed.

'What miniature?' Skye demanded.

'Of you? I intended to paint it tonight,' he answered her.

'You are an artist?'

'I do competent portraits,' he said. 'If you would give me but a few minutes I shall do a quick sketch of you for