All the Sweet Tomorrows

The two men greeted each other cautiously, and then Edmond said, 'Thank heavens! When you mentioned this man, Skye, I feared that he might be your lover.'

'My lover?' Her first thought was to be offended-and angry. She didn't need this sort of thing! Her lover, indeed! Then, suddenly, she saw the humor in the situation, and she giggled. The situation was made even funnier to her mind by Robbie, who, having recovered from his initial shock at Edmond de Beaumont's words, began to roar with outrage.

'Christ's bones! That's a filthy French thought if I ever heard one! Has the Queen given you to a froggie then, Skye? I'll not have it! Her lover?' His hand went to his sword. 'You've been insulted, and so have I!'

'No, Robbie!' Skye cautioned.

Edmond de Beaumont had quickly realized his mistake, but he was a proud young man, and Robert Small's furious tone had begun to offend him. It was up to her to defuse the situation. Reaching out, she touched Robbie's hand in a gesture of conciliation. 'Edmond meant no harm, Robbie.' Then she turned to the younger man. 'I was not aware that you misunderstood the situation, m'sieur.' Her tone was cool.

'You said he was your cher ami, madame,' was the reply.

'I said he was one of the two best friends that I had in this world, Edmond.' She bit her lip to keep from laughing. 'God only knows what you will think when you meet Adam de Marisco, my other friend.'

'I will think him a very lucky man, madame, and I beg that you forgive me. You also, Sir Robert. In Beaumont de Jaspre a woman is not a friend. She is a wife, a mistress, a mother, or a servant. You understand what I am saying?' He looked very anxious.

Robert Small shook his head. 'You can't do this, Skye. Even for the Burke lands, you can't marry this duc. You hear his nephew. They have no respect for a woman's intelligence in this place. You will be a thing to this man, an animal to be bred, no more. I can't allow you to destroy yourself in this manner.'

'Robbie, I must obey the Queen! I cannot fight off the Anglo-Irish and their English friends. I need a strong ally, and Elizabeth Tudor is that ally. Her price is high, but pay it I must. If I balk now she will destroy me entirely. It will be all right, you will see. The duc and I shall come to a comfortable arrangement between us.'

Robert Small looked to Edmond de Beaumont, but now the young man's face was smooth and devoid of emotion. 'Well, M'sieur de Beaumont,' Robbie demanded, 'will Skye be able to come to an agreement with your uncle, or will it be as I have said?'

'My uncle is an old-fashioned man, Sir Robert, but he has a good mind. He is intelligent, and although Lady Burke's independence will come as a bit of a shock to him, he will come to understand that this is the way she is, and I think he will even enjoy it. His first wife was a distant cousin from Florence, and a very timid lady. My uncle's second wife was the daughter of a neighboring nobleman. She was a vapid little thing, really more a child than a woman.

'You, Skye, are far different from either of those ladies. Be patient with Uncle Fabron. It will take you a little time, but I know that you will win him over, and he will appreciate your intelligence as well as your beauty. You are the perfect wife for him. You must not be concerned, for I live at the castle and I will always be there to be your friend.'

'I’ll be there also,' Robbie said. 'Be warned, M'sieur de Beaumont, that I will be making my home in Beaumont de Jaspre until I am sure that Skye is safe and happy.' He put his arm about her. 'This is the daughter I never had, and she is most dear to me and to my sister. Her eldest daughter is my heiress. For all our lack of blood ties, she is my family, and I will not have her hurt!'

Edmond de Beaumont could not help the admiring look that crept into his violet eyes. He had not doubted from the moment he had first seen Skye that she was a woman that men loved, but that she could command such loyalty was indeed impressive. 'You may trust me, Sir Robert,' he said. 'Skye will be happy in Beaumont de Jaspre. I promise it.'

The doors to the salon opened, and Dame Cecily and the children entered. Edmond de Beaumont noted the proud, loving look on Skye's face, but remembering her manners, she introduced him to Sir Robert's sister before drawing her children forward to meet him. Dame Cecily, warned to his size, greeted him courteously before turning to her brother, saying, 'I heard you roaring like a lion all the way to the second landing, Robert. I hope that you are not giving M'sieur de Beaumont a bad impression of England and the English.'

'On the contrary, madam,' Edmond de Beaumont quickly interjected. 'Your brother has given me the very best possible impression of the English.'

'I want you to meet my children, Edmond,' Skye now said. 'This,' she gestured gracefully with her hand to a tall boy who looked so very much like her, 'is my son, Murrough O’Flaherty.'

The boy, dressed elegantly in black velvet, white silk, and lace, bowed beautifully, a lock of his hair falling across his forehead as he lowered his head. 'M'sieur de Beaumont, I am pleased to greet you,' he said in a voice that Edmond could hear was but newly changed.

'And I you, sir,' Edmond replied courteously.

'My daughter, Willow,' Skye said, and Willow, gowned in red velvet, curtseyed prettily.

Edmond de Beaumont bowed in return. 'Mademoiselle Willow.'

'My son, Robin, the Earl of Lynmouth,' Skye said.

'M'sieur de Beaumont.'

Edmond looked at the slender boy in sky-blue velvet and exquisitely done lace. His features were incredibly beautiful, if slightly arrogant. The boy had dark blond hair and unusual lime-green eyes. He was obviously his father's son. 'My lord Earl,' Edmond de Beaumont said politely, and then turned to Skye. 'You have fine children, madam, if these three are an example. I only wish my uncle could see them.'

'Should our mother's marriage to your uncle prove a felicitous union,' Murrough O’Flaherty said, 'then your uncle will meet us all, m'sieur. Our duties here in England can spare us for a short time.'

Edmond de Beaumont was amused. The older boy was obviously spokesman for his younger brother and sister, despite the disparity in their ranks. The children were obviously disapproving of their mother's marriage, and who could blame them. 'I hope you will come to Beaumont de Jaspre soon,' he said. 'You will like our small country. The weather is like summer most of the year round, and the sea bathing most delightful.'

'I have never bathed in the sea,' Willow said.

'Ah, mademoiselle,' said Edmond de Beaumont, looking up at her, 'I shall take you myself when you come. Our sea is the blue of your English sky, and as clear as crystal. The water is warm, and the sea bottom golden sand. Can you swim?'

Willow shook her head.

'Then I shall teach you, mademoiselle! Would you like that?'

'Oh, yes, m'sieur!' Willow's face was pink with pleasure, and Edmond noted to himself that she, too, must favor her father.

'Will you teach me to swim, too?' Robin asked.

'Indeed, my lord, it would be my pleasure,' Edmond replied.

'I know how,' Murrough said loftily. 'My brother and I learned early. We are a seafaring family, m'sieur.'

'Can you sail, sir?' Edmond de Beaumont demanded.

'l can.'

'Then you, also, will enjoy Beaumont de Jaspre. The sea about us makes for excellent sailing.'

'Perhaps, m'sieur, but I doubt that your waters can equal our fine Irish seas.'

'Murrough!' Skye was somewhat shocked by her elder son's intractable attitude. 'Please tender your apologies to M'sieur de Beaumont.'

'For what?' The boy looked surprised. 'Our Irish seas are true seas, worthy of our seafaring talents. I have been told that the Mediterranean is naught but a placid Turkish lake.'

Edmond de Beaumont laughed heartily. 'Indeed the Turks seem to think so, young Murrough O’Flaherty; but