''Twas our last link with the past and Da. Now 'tis gone.'
'We'll always have the memories,' Sine said hopefully.
'Pah!' Peigi said sharply. 'The age has ended, and that's all there is to it!'
'Uncle Seamus was the one thing that kept this family close, and together,' Bride volunteered. 'Now, I suppose we'll all go our own ways.'
'We've been doing that for years,' Moire replied.
''Tis the way of it,' Eibhlin said quietly. 'All families scatter at one point in time. Especially the daughters, and God knows Da had his share of daughters.'
'We've made Da proud,' Moire said, 'at least some of us have. I've borne eighteen children, thirteen of whom lived. Peigi has twelve living, Bride nine, and Sine eleven. Even you, barren stock though you chose to be, would have made him proud with yer medicines and piety.' Moire looked around at her siblings. 'Aye, Da would be proud of some of us.'
'Da would be proud of me also, Moire,' Skye said quietly. 'You've been most obvious in leaving me out, but let me tell you that I've done just what he would have wanted me to over the years, and I've borne eight children as well. I've overseen three estates for my children as well as great wealth, and I've done well, Moire, by the O'Malleys!'
'Ye lost the Burke lands with yer carryings on!' Moire snapped.
'I lost the Burke lands because I was married in France without the Queen's blessing,' Skye retorted angrily. 'The Queen broke her word to me, for we made a bargain and I kept my part of that bargain. Had I returned to England without a husband Elizabeth Tudor would have used me again, and I will never be used again by anyone, Moire! What in Hell could you possibly know about it, living in a backwater manor house in an out-of-the-way village in Ireland?'
'Brian tells me that ye've advised him and our brothers to go into service with the English Queen.'
'Nay! I've advised them to obtain letters of marque from her and to go plundering along the Spanish Main. 'Twill keep them out of trouble here in Ireland, and fill our coffers as well, Moire. Should they keep on the way they're going, they'll lose everything, and Da wouldn't want that.'
“The Spanish are our friends,' Moire protested. 'We share the same faith!'
'Spare me your religious qualms, Moire,' Skye replied impatiently. 'The Spanish use us the same way the French use the Scots. 'Tis to their own advantage. Religion plays no part in it. If the Spanish occasionally give the Irish arms 'tis only so they'll harry the English, which is to Spain's interest and certainly not Ireland's. Do the English punish the Spanish? Nay! Rather they come with a vengeance to us, and 'tis Irish blood that flows in the streets, and Irish women who weep tears of pain and shame, and Irish children who starve for lack of their fathers to feed and defend them. Our
'Ye were always different,' Moire countered, and then she spoke no more on it.
The next morning Skye's sisters and their families departed for their own homes, bidding their youngest sister farewell with little warmth. The years had treated them quite differently, and sadly, Skye was as much a stranger to them as a woman taken in from the streets would have been. She understood them all too well, for her life experience had been broad. They understood her not at all, for their experience had been narrow. Still she kissed them and bid them God speed.
'Good riddance!' Eibhlin muttered as the last of them rode off down the road, and Skye laughed, tucking her hand through her favorite sister's arm as they walked back into the hall.
'Why is it that you understand and they don't?' she asked.
'Because they are more cloistered in their lives than I, despite my religious calling, have ever been. My medicine has allowed me to see more of the human condition and the world than they have. Besides they have always been jealous of your beauty, Skye, as well as your husbands. Think on it, sister. For thirty-one years Moire has been humped by but one man, and from her sour face I wager he scarce comes near her anymore. And I've always suspected that she says the rosary while he is atop her. I'll wager you don't say yer rosary while Adam makes love to you!'
'Nay, Eibhlin, she says not her rosary, for I keep her far too busy saying other things!'
'You're shameless!' Skye cried, 'and 'tis worse with you, Eibhlin, for you're a nun!'
“True,' her older sister agreed, 'but I'm also a woman.' Then she changed the subject. 'What think ye of Mistress Gwenyth?'
“That I’m overyoung to be a grandmother,' Skye laughed. 'Isn't it wonderful, Eibhlin! You'll be with her when her time comes, won't you?'
'Aye, Skye, I will, and believe me, Ballyhennessey is a far better place today in which to have a child than it was when you birthed Ewan and Murrough. I'll not forget the snow drifting across the floor while I tried to keep you and the baby warm.'
'Ewan is nothing like his father,' Skye replied. 'Neither, thank God, is Murrough! They're
'Tell me of my newest niece?' Eibhlin said.
Skye looked at Adam, and they smiled. 'Velvet's an impossible baggage, Eibhlin, but we love her dearly!'
'In other words,' Eibhlin chuckled, 'she is her parents' child.'
'Aye!' they both replied with one voice, and then laughed.
'When will you return to England, for I imagine you are anxious to be with your child.'
'We sail tomorrow, Eibhlin. Brian has promised me he will immediately disassociate himself and the O'Malleys of Innisfana from Grace O'Malley and her pirates. 'Tis easily done right now, for the winter is upon us and they'll be no more ships to chase until spring. By then I hope to have the letters of marque for the O'Malleys, and they can sail west to play havoc with the Spanish in the New World.'
Eibhlin nodded with approval. 'Ye've saved those four dolts, though they know it not. If they'd continued on their merry course, they'd have ended up on the gallows for sure, and then ye'd never be free of the O'Malleys. Give Brian the office as soon as you reasonably can, Skye. 'Tis past time ye had yer own fife.'
Adam silently agreed with Eibhlin O'Malley, and he was not sorry the following day to bid farewell to Brian, Shane, and Shamus O'Malley, and their mother. Anne, of course, was worried for her youngest, Conn, who was to sail with them, but Adam saw that the young man was anxious to free himself of both his mother and his three older brothers. Secretly Adam wondered if his youngest brother-in-law would ever go privateering in the New World. From Conn O'Malley's questions about Skye's trading business, Adam suspected he'd not.
They reached Devon several days later, anchoring in the harbor of Lynmouth Castle, and then rowing ashore. Daisy hurried to her cottage to see her small sons, while Skye sent out messengers to Dame Cecily at Wren Court and to the Queen saying that she had returned and would be keeping Christmas at Greenwich with her Majesty. Then she put her mind to the task of turning her brother into a gentleman worthy of the Tudor court.
Conn roared like a lion as his shaggy hair was shorn from his head, and his thick bushy beard cropped neady. He howled like a banshee to find himself in a steaming tub that smelt of lavender while his own sister, her sleeves rolled above her elbow, plied the scrubbing brush herself.
'Ye're killing me!' he yelled in Gaelic as she scrubbed his newly barbered hair.
'Speak English, you clod!' she roared back at him. 'You'll be laughed right out of the damned English court unless you do!'
“To Hell with the English!'
'My sentiments, too,' Skye laughed, 'but you need the bastards, Conn! Besides, the court is filled with pretty girls just dying to meet a big, handsome man like yourself. If you don't speak their language, how will you communicate with them?'
'I've not done so bad to date, sister,' he replied.
'With the serving girls?' she mocked him. 'Haven't you ever learned the difference between a lady and a wench, little brother? You'd best if you're to be a success at court, and you'd better be a success at court, Conn.
