All the Sweet Tomorrows

'I was raised in the holy Catholic faith, Majesty,' Adam replied.

The Queen Mother nodded satisfied with his answer. 'This is my daughter, the Princesse Marguerite,' she said, 'and her betrothed, our young King of Navarre.'

Again Skye and Adam made obeisance to the royal couple. The princess had her mother's coloring, but fortunately, she looked like her Valois relations and was quite lovely. Henri of Navarre was a very tall, powerfully built young man with dark hair and merry amber eyes. Boldly he assessed Skye, his eyes dropping to her extreme decolletage. His eyes widened appreciatively, caressed lingeringly, and then shot up to meet hers in a daring challenge. Adam, being occupied with the princess, fortunately did not notice; but Skye grew warm with embarrassment.

'M'sieur!' she scolded the King of Navarre, gently determined that he should not even contemplate her encouragement.

'Madame cannot blame me,' he replied. 'I am a connoisseur of beauty, and you, madame, are the most beautiful creature it has ever been my incredible good fortune to meet. But tell me when and where we may meet! I must make love to you!'

'M'sieur! You are to be married tomorrow. What of your bride?'

Henri de Navarre smiled charmingly. 'Margot? She won't mind.'

'I am an affianced woman.'

'Then we have something in common.'

Skye was exasperated. She must discourage this impetuous man. Taking a deep breath, she said, 'You are naught but a rude boy of nineteen, m'sieur. I am a woman past thirty.'

'Ahh,' he smiled warmly at her. 'You are experienced then, and I adore women of experience.'

While Skye tried to extricate herself from this very difficult situation, Catherine de Medici watched from beneath hooded lids. Deciding that her daughter's conversation with de Marisco was boring, she listened in on Skye and Henri de Navarre. So the Huguenot with the prodigious appetite for women was interested in the Irishwoman. Here was a situation that could perhaps be used to her advantage. Henri was going to need to be diverted soon, and the beautiful Irishwoman looked as though she could certainly divert him if only she were willing.

Skye wasn't willing, however, and Catherine knew enough about human nature to see that the lady was not playing coy. It was unfortunate, the Queen Mother thought, but then she had a number of lovely creatures in her Flying Squadron who could be ordered to distract the King of Navarre if the proper time came.

Henri de Navarre, however, was not discouraged by Skye's stern rebuffs. All women, he had discovered, could eventually be wooed and won. Some were just harder to win than others, but it had been his experience that those ladies were the sweetest conquests of all. Reluctantly he allowed Skye and Adam to pass on, but he was determined that sooner than later he would hold the Irish beauty in his arms, and she would swoon with delight as all the others did at his passionate kisses.

'You are angry,' Adam said when they were out of earshot of the royals. 'I must assume that the young King of Navarre made indecent suggestions to you, sweetheart.' He took two goblets of chilled wine from the tray of a passing servant and handed her one. 'I cannot imagine Henri of Navarre not being taken by your beauty.'

'It is outrageous!' filmed Skye. 'He is to be married tomorrow, and here he is propositioning women the night before!'

Adam chuckled. 'Typical behavior of the young man, I am told.'

“The poor princess!'

'God's bones, Skye, don't feel sorry for that hot-tempered little bitch, Marguerite de Valois. She is the Duc de Guise's mistress. In fact she wished to marry him, and he was quite agreeable. Unfortunately Catherine de Medici felt the match with Navarre more favorable to her, and de Guise had just hurriedly wed with the Princess de Porcienne to escape a possible royal assassination. The Queen Mother wouldn't hesitate to inflict la Morte Italienne upon de Guise. In face I suspect she is quite sorry he escaped her. The de Guises are too ambitious, and Catherine considers them a threat to her sons. She has never forgiven them for the way they treated her when her eldest, Francois II, was married to their little niece, the Queen of Scots.'

'What a family!' Skye exclaimed. “They are as bad as the Tudors!'

Adam chuckled. 'Power,' he said, 'is a very heady draught, sweetheart.'

From some hidden corner the musicians started to play, and the guests began to get into formation to dance. Skye moved gracefully in and out of the figure, smiling softly in her pleasure at Adam, who partnered her with the utmost grace for so big a man. Mischievously he stole a kiss, and she found herself laughing up at him with pure happiness. As far as she was concerned, they were the only two people on the face of the earth. How fortunate I am, she thought. Somehow it has all come out all right. In less than two months Adam and I will be married. Bess Tudor will be angry, but I know that eventually she'll forgive us, and we'll go home again. We'll rebuild Adam's castle on Lundy. It is the perfect place for us-an island between our two countries. We'll gather my children, and together we will grow old together. That didn't seem like such an awful idea to Skye.

He saw her smiling, and asked, 'What makes you so happy, sweetheart?'

Gazing back up at him, she said, 'I was thinking of our growing old together, Adam.'

He chuckled. 'Do you think we might be young for just a little while longer, Skye? With you for my wife, my life is but beginning.'

'Oh, my darling!' she cried softly, and there were quick tears sparkling like diamonds in her sapphire eyes. 'What a lovely thing to say to me!'

'Adam! Adam de Marisco, is it really you?' As the dance ended they heard an excited feminine voice.

They looked about for the owner of the voice and an incredibly beautifully woman whirled into their sight. Reed-slender with a magnificent high bosom and tiny waist, she was dressed in apple green and gold silk, which complimented her wonderful reddish-blond hair.

'Merde!” Adam swore under his breath, and Skye giggled at the oath.

The woman stopped before them, eyed Skye briefly, dismissed her insultingly, and then flung herself on Adam's chest. 'A-dam, ma cheri! I cannot believe it is really you! Mon