them chuckled at the pompous Earl of Leicester's discomfort, Skye said in honied tones, Your Majesty knows my two sons, Murrough O’Flaherty and Robin Southwood; but I have brought my daughter, Willow, to greet you.'
Elizabeth Tudor turned a kindly glance upon Willow, totally adorable in a burgundy-colored silk gown. Willow curtseyed gracefully, gaining further approval from the Queen. 'How old are you, my child?' she demanded.
'I have just had my ninth birthday, Your Majesty,' Willow replied.
'And what do you study? You do study?'
'Aye, madam. I study French, Latin, and Greek, as well as mathematics, music, and philosophy. Mama says I must begin Italian and Spanish as well this year; I will one day have a great estate to administer.'
The Queen was amused as well as pleased. Had she a daughter of her own she would fully approve such a curriculum. 'Can you dance?' she asked Willow.
'Aye, madam. The dancing master comes at eight in the morning four days weekly.'
'And the wifely arts, Mistress Willow? Do you learn those also?'
'Aye,' replied Willow, 'I like them, although I love gardening best.'
'You are a good child, I can see,' the Queen said. 'Perhaps in another year or two your mama will allow you to come to court as one of my maids of honor. Would you like that, Mistress Willow?'
Willow's golden eyes grew round with delight, and she looked to her mother. 'Oh, Mother, may I?' she asked.
'In a year or two,' Skye answered, 'if the Queen still has need of you, Willow, you may certainly come. Now please thank the Queen for her kindness.'
'Oh, thank you, madam,' Willow said fervently, curtseying again.
'You are fortunate to have such a good little maid for a daughter,' Elizabeth remarked.
“I am fortunate in all my children,' Skye replied, 'even the babes I must leave behind.'
The Queen had the good grace to look momentarily uncomfortable, but then she recovered quickly. 'You will take the Duc de Beaumont de Jaspre our personal greetings, dear Skye, and you will tell him that England is grateful for the safety of his harbors. As to the rest, I know that I may rely upon you.' It was a dismissal, and it was a warning.
Skye curtseyed low, and at least two of the gentlemen standing near the Queen almost fell over in their efforts to gaze at her almost bare breasts.
'Have you really known her, Dudley?' one courtier asked.
'She's as hot and juicy a piece as you could imagine in your wildest fantasies,' Dudley replied low. 'I had her right after her husband, the Earl of Southwood, died. He'd always kept her well serviced, and she could hardly wait for me to put it in her. Oh, yes, my friend, I know Skye O'Malley well.'
'What a shame the Queen is sending her away,' the courtier said.
Dudley chuckled. 'Bess knows Skye will make the duc a happy man, and a happy man is a grateful man, grateful to the England who gives him this delicious sugarplum to eat up.'
The two men snickered lewdly, but by then Skye and her escort had already left the Queen's reception room.
'When is the next tide?' Skye asked Robbie.
'About six this evening,' he replied.
'It doesn't give us much time, does it? Well, let's get back to Greenwood, my loves, so that I may change.'
They hurried through the corridors of Whitehall Palace to the Old Palace Stairs, the public landing on the river, and there Skye's barge awaited them. The barge sped down the river to Greenwood, and Skye flew into the house to change her clothing. The under-maids hurriedly packed her beautiful gown away, and the last of the trunks was sent on to the Pool, where Skye's own flagship, the
Skye dressed in the clothes she habitually wore aboard ship; a split-legged skirt of light, black wool, natural- colored woollen stockings and dark leather boots, a cream-colored silk shirt, and a wide leather belt with a silver buckle. Her black hair was twisted into one thick braid, a simple hairstyle that would not blow into her eyes. Adam had sat watching her as she dressed, handing her her garments in Daisy's place, as the maid had been sent on ahead.
'Don't come with me to the ship,' Skye said to him. 'I don't think I can bear to see you receding as the ship sails off.'
He nodded, understanding and silently agreeing. Best that their good-byes be said in private. “I’ll take Murrough and Robin back to Whitehall, and then tomorrow, I’ll see Dame Cecily and Willow safely back to Devon,' he said.
'Will you keep an eye on the children for me, Adam? Not just here in England, but in Ireland as well. My brother, Michael, is a good man, but he's a priest, and Uncle Seamus is elderly, far too elderly even to take on the responsibilities he has now. My son, Ewan, can use the strong influence of a real man.' She flung herself against his broad chest. 'My babies!' she wept. 'It's so hard to leave the others, but my babies are too young even to know me. Please look out for them, Adam. I can trust you!'
'You will write to me,' he said. It was more a statement than a question.
'I will write to you,' she answered.
'I will pray for you also,' he said quietly, and she looked up at him, startled. He laughed. 'I know men don't speak a great deal about God, Skye, but I believe, and I do pray.'
Tears moistened her eyes again. 'I will pray for you also, my darling. I will pray that you find a woman to love and to keep!'
He smiled down at her, and then his lips met hers in a kiss of incredible sweetness. Their mouths melted into one another until there was no beginning and, seemingly, no end. She wanted the kiss to go on forever, for his touch had transported her beyond the world she knew and into a realm of light and love so pure that she knew nothing would ever be the same again for either of them.
She protested when he reluctantly lifted his head from hers. His arm fell from about her waist, and he touched her cheek lightly with his fingers. 'Farewell, Skye O'Malley. Farewell until we meet again.' Then Adam de Marisco turned and left her.
For a moment Skye stood rooted to the floor, filled with a feeling of such terrible loss that she thought her heart would surely break. If he had been a fool then she had been a bigger one. She should have insisted that he marry her! Now it was too late.
'Mother?'
She started at the sound of the voice and, looking down, saw her sons standing before her. 'Murrough, Robin,' she said.
'We came to bid you farewell, Mother,' Murrough said. 'Lord de Marisco is going to take us back to Whitehall now.'
She bent down and hugged her elder son. Then, straightening, she took his face in her hand. 'I am proud of you, Murrough O’Flaherty,' she said. 'You are a good lad, and I love you. Remember what we have spoken of, and act accordingly. Only you can win your lands, my son. I know you will make me proud.' Then she kissed him quickly and stepped back, releasing him.
Murrough's eyes were damp, but he manfully forced back his tears. 'I will make you proud, Mother, and when you are settled you will let me come to you?'
'You will all come to see me,' she promised, and then she turned to her younger son.
Robin flung himself into her arms, and although he was silent, his little shoulders shook. Skye waited until he had composed himself. Robin, like his father, had great dignity. Finally he looked up at her, and his mouth trembled as he said, 'My father would not like this, Mother. He would not approve of what the Queen has done, sending you from your children.'
'No, Robin,' she admitted. 'Geoffrey would not like what the Queen has done, but he would accept her decision and abide by it, for your papa was in all things the Queen's most loyal servant. Whatever your feelings in this matter, I expect you to do what your papa would have done. He would have accepted the Queen's choice, and so must you. He would have accepted it with good grace, and you must do the same.' She smoothed his wavy, dark blond hair gently. 'Will you come to visit me, my lord Earl, once I am settled?'
