“You’re the first person who’s not told me that the MacWilliam won’t let his heir marry with an O’Malley of Innisfana.”
The Reverend Mother laughed. “Ah, these men and their pride!?Take heart, my daughter. The MacWilliam is a stern man, but he?loves his son. But tell me, child, have you no feeling for your young?husband?”
“I do not love Dom, nor did I ever wish to wed with him. I?begged my father not to force me to it, even before I met Niall?Burke. In fact, I did not wish to wed at all until I met Niall. I do?not believe a woman should have to spend her life with someone?she dislikes.”
“So,” chuckled the nun, “you’re a revolutionary like your sister,?Lady O’Flaherty.”
“No. And please, I beg of you, Reverend Mother, do not call me?Lady O’Flaherty. I shall never acknowledge Dom’s name as mine.?I am Skye O’Malley!”
“Very well, Skye O’Malley, we shall try to make your stay with?us as pleasant as possible.” The nun picked up a bell and rang it?sharply. It was instantly answered by a little novice. “Sister Feldelm,?this is Skye O’Malley, Sister Eibhlin’s sister. She is sheltering with?us for several weeks. The West Tower guest suite has been prepared?for her. Will you please escort her there?”
“Yes, Reverend Mother,” said the novice, bobbing a curtsey.?”If you’ll come along with me, Mistress O’Malley.”
“You are free to go wherever you chose on the grounds, Skye,?and the chapel and public rooms of the convent are open to you.?You need not keep to your rooms.”
“Thank you.” Skye turned to follow Sister Feldelm.
“My daughter, I shall pass on to you any information I receive.”
Skye flashed her a small smile, then followed the novice out.
How sad, thought the Reverend Mother. Another young woman?pushed into an unhappy marriage. She wondered what the Mac-?William would do. She knew what he would not do. He would not?let Niall have Skye, for he sought a better match for his heir. Damn?him and the others like him for the fools they were! Hadn’t they yet? learned that overbred wenches invariably proved to be bad breeders??A good sturdy lass of less elegant lineage made a better wife.
The Reverend Mother Ethna realized that beneath the gallant?defiance, Skye O’Malley was a frightened and desperate girl. If the?child was to be disappointed, best she learn it now so she might face?her grief with the nuns. In the time she was with them, they could,?with the grace of God, help her make peace with herself.
Alone in her apartment Skye inspected her surroundings. There?were two rooms, a good-sized dayroom, and a small bedroom. Both had fireplaces. The bedroom fireplace was set into the corner. The?room held only a big oak bed with claret velvet hangings. There was?no room for any other furniture. The size of the bed amused and? puzzled Skye until it dawned on her that the convent probably relied?on the generosity of its friends to furnish its rooms. Giggling to?herself, she wondered what the nuns thought of the great bed. It?faced the one small window in the bedroom, and looked out over?the sea.
The dayroom was a bright, pleasant room with windows on two?sides. They faced north, giving a far view of her home on Innisfana?Island, and west across the open sea into the setting sun. On the?east wall of the room was a large stone fireplace flanked by two?great carved winged angels. To the north of the fireplace was the?stout oak door that served as an entry.
On the opposite side of the fireplace a small floor-to-ceiling book-?case had been built into the wall, matching a larger one that shared?the south wall with the paneled bedroom door. Before the lead paned?western windows was a polished oak refectory table with armchairs?at the head and foot. To one side of the fireplace was a settle and?on the other a comfortable chair. There was a large carved chest,?and in the space between the windows stood a little prie-dieu with?an embroidered cushion. Skye’s trunk had been placed in the bedroom, beneath the window.
The convent’s benefactors had been more than generous. Heavy?claret-red velvet draperies hung from all the windows, and a large?Turkey carpet in reds and blues was spread across the floor, matching?a smaller one in the bedroom. Skye later learned that the O’Neills?had furnished the West Tower’s guest quarters when their own Ethna?became the head of St. Bride’s of the Cliffs.
Skye’s days quickly took on a comfortable pattern. She rose early,?and attended mass in the convent’s chapel. She was not particularly?religious, but she prayed now that Niall would soon come for her.?Afterward she obtained her own breakfast from the kitchen and went?off by herself to walk across the convent grounds. A small sailboat? belonging to the order was placed at her disposal, and Skye spent?many hours sailing and fishing to pass the time. The convent soon?enjoyed a number of fresh seafood dinners courtesy of their young?guest.
The main meal of the day was served at two in the afternoon,?and Skye ate it alone in her dayroom. The evening meal was served?after vespers, and sometimes Eibhlin joined her young sister. Oth-?erwise Skye was again alone.
The convent had a surprisingly fine library, and the bookshelves in Skye’s dayroom were also well filled. On very wet days, she?read. Skye O’Malley was a well-educated woman for her day. She?could speak her native Gaelic as well as English, French, and Latin.?She could write, and though she might not sew as fine a seam as?her sisters did, her needlework was passable and she could knit.
She knew how to run a household, understanding provisioning,?salting, conserving, preserving, soap-making, and perfume-making.?She knew the rudiments of brewing and household medicine. She?had been taught to keep accounts, for O’Malley firmly believed that?the only way to avoid being cheated by one’s own steward was to?do one’s own household accounts. And as if that were not enough,?Skye was one of the finest navigators her father had ever sailed with.?The O’Malley often joked that he thought his daughter could smell?out her ship’s destination.
Though she saw the nuns as she moved through the uneventful?pattern of her days, Skye actually spent most of her time alone. The?order of St. Bride’s was not a cloistered one, nor was it a begging?order. The nuns were workers, devoted first to their God and second?to the poor. Some of the nuns were teachers and others gave medical?aid to the surrounding area. The rest farmed for the convent, cooked,?knitted, sewed, and did the farm and household chores.
Skye adapted instantly, and entered into the spirit of the convent,?doing her share of fishing, snaring rabbits, and one day even bringing?down a young buck. The venison was a rare treat for the nuns.
Skye needed that constant physical activity. Had she not worked?so hard she might never have slept. Why had Niall not communicated?with her? Surely he understood the anguish she was feeling. He?could not, she was sure, have made love to her with such exquisite?delicacy while intending to leave her forever.
It might have eased her mind to know that Niall Burke suffered?no less than she did. He had clawed his way up through the swirling?darkness to discover himself trussed like a damned Christmas goose?on a cockle of a boat that was bouncing all over the ocean. The?bearded captain of the little boat gave him a wicked but sympathetic? grin.
“So, you’re awake, me lord.”
“Where the hell am I?” snarled Niall. “Unloose me at once!”
The captain looked unhappy. “Ah, now, your worship, I can’t?do that. If I were to unloose you, and you became violent, which?I can see you’re sure to do, I’d be in terrible trouble. Take Lord?Burke home to the MacWilliam was what the O’Malley told me to?do, and that’s just what I’ll do.”
“At least sit me up, man, and give me a dram. I’m cramped, my head feels like the little people are mining gold inside it, and I’m?not sure I won’t be seasick.”
Captain MacGuire chuckled. “All right, lad. You don’t ask a?great deal of a man, and I’m no fool to make you any more uncom-?fortable than you already are.” Bending, he hauled Niall into a sitting?position, his back against the mast, and held a flask to his lips.
Niall gratefully swallowed several gulps of the smoky, peat-?scented whiskey. It hit the pit of his stomach like a burning rock,?but almost immediately it began to spread its warmth through his?cramped, wet body. “So the O’Malley sent me home?” he said?thoughtfully.
“Aye, me lord, and you’ve slept as peaceful as a babe most of?the way. We’re just about there.”
Niall craned his neck and looked to the coast, but he was not a?sailor and the distant landscape looked all the same to him. “How?long?” he demanded.
“A bit,” came the infuriatingly vague answer. “See that little point?over there? Once we’re around it you’re home. That’s where we’ll?land, and then I’ll walk you from there. I’ve a message to deliver?to the
