'If the Queen will allow it, Mother,' he answered, and she smiled and kissed him tenderly.
'As I am proud of your brother, so I am also proud of you, Robin. You arc the youngest page at court, and the Queen says you are the best of her pages, despite your youth. Continue to add lustre to the Southwood family name, my son.'
She took the boys by the hands and walked with them to the door of her antechamber. Then, quickly kissing each of them again, she bade them farewell and thrust them from the room. As the door closed behind them Skye put her back to it and stuffed her fist into her mouth to prevent her cries from being heard by her sons. They had both been so brave and she must not destroy their confidence in themselves, or in her. Inwardly she cursed Elizabeth Tudor for her cruelty in sending her so far away. The woman had no heart. The tears poured down her face in a steady, salty stream, and when Robbie knocked, she did not hear him at first.
'Skye, lass!' His voice cut into her sorrow.
Turning, she fumbled to open the door, and when he pushed into the room she fell against his chest, weeping. 'It's too much, Robbie!' she cried. 'I don't think I can do it! I don't think I can!'
He held her and made soothing noises, for that was all she really wanted. She would go to Beaumont de Jaspre because she had promised the Queen. Skye O'Malley had never been known to go back on her word, and she wouldn't now for all her sorrow at parting from her children. When he had decided that she had wept enough, he said sharply, 'Are you forgetting Willow, Skye lass? Will you go to her your eyes all puffy with evidence of weeping? She's not a babe to gull, you know.'
Skye drew in a deep breath, and then she shuddered against him and pulled away. 'I’m sorry, Robbie,' she said quietly, 'but dammit, I love my sons!'
'I know, lass,' he said, and taking her by the hand, he led her back into her bedchamber. Pouring some cool water from a silver pitcher into the matching basin, he pointed to it. 'Wash your face, lass. Willow and Cecily are waiting to bid us good-bye in the library. God's foot, she's like Khalid! She's always asking about cargo, and the bills of lading for them. She's more your heir than any of the boys, and that's for certain!'
'She's your pet,' Skye accused him, and she bent to wash the evidence of tears from her face.
That she is,' Robbie chuckled indulgently, and Skye was forced to laugh, which made her feel better.
She took the linen towel that he handed her, and dried both her face and her hands. 'I am ready,' she said. 'I don't feel so badly about Willow, for she is safe with your sister, but when I thought of my two little boys at court, with no one to protect them…' she sighed.
'Adam will protect them. He told me before he left that he will spend his time going between Devon, the court, and Ireland, checking on your children while you are away. He's a good man, and why you didn't marry him is beyond me.'
Why was it that everyone always assumed, Adam included, that she wouldn't have him? 'He wouldn't have me, dammit!' she swore at Robbie. 'It's twice he's turned me down because of some misguided notion. Now he's decided that he does love me, that he does want me, and it's too bloody late!'
He looked at her, astounded. The Devil you say, Skye lass!'
'Let's go, Robbie,' she said. 'It isn't polite to keep a duc waiting,' and she stamped from the room, gazing quickly about it for one last time. Who knew when she would see her London house again. Right now, all she wanted was to go before the leaving killed her with sorrow.
In the library Dame Cecily and Willow awaited Skye. Willow ran to her mother as she entered the room, hugging her hard, and saying, 'I shall miss you, Mama. When will I see you again?'
'Once I am settled I shall ask the duc if you and your brothers can come. Will you like that, my darling?'
'I will be able to come back to England to be a maid of honor to the Queen, won't I, Mama?' Willow looked very anxious, and Skye realized how glamorous and exciting the court must seem to a young girl.
'If you continue to do all the things you should, Willow, then I see no reason why you cannot go to court in a few years' time. I must have good reports from Dame Cecily, though, and you must make me proud when you come to Beaumont de Jaspre.'
'Oh, I will, Mama! I promise you I shall be very good, and I shall study my lessons hard! When I go to court someday I shall outshine the Queen herself!'
'It is not very wise to outshine Elizabeth Tudor, Willow. That lesson your Mama has learned.' Skye gave Robbie and Dame Cecily a wry smile, and then said, 'Come now, Willow, and bid me farewell. It grows late, and we cannot miss the tide.' She bent down and enfolded her daughter in her arms. Khalid's daughter. Except this winter and the winter she had been in the Tower, she had never been separated from Khalid's daughter. Suddenly it was like losing him all over again, and she began to feel teary once more. She quickly regained control over her errant emotions, and kissed her daughter twice, once on each cheek. 'Adieu, my dearest daughter,' she said softly.
'Farewell, Mama. Go in safety with God's blessing.' Willow kissed her mother upon the lips, and then quickly turned away before her mother might see her tears. She knew full well how Skye felt about leaving her children, and she understood why she did it. I will never be that vulnerable when I am grown up, Willow thought with the easy confidence of youth.
Dame Cecily and Skye hugged each other, and the older woman did not bother to hide her feelings. Big tears ran down her plump, apple cheeks, and she fumbled irritably for her handkerchief. 'I shall miss you, my dear,' she sniffled, 'but I will take good care of Willow for you, Skye. That I can promise you.'
'I know you will look after Willow with love,' Skye replied. 'What would she or I ever do without you, Dame Cecily? You have been like a mother to me and a grandmother to Willow from the first. I shall miss you also!' She hugged the old lady, comforting her with the promise, 'You must come with Willow when Robbie brings her to Beaumont de Jaspre. Edmond tells me it is a lovely country, all flowers and sunshine.'
“Well,' Dame Cecily said with a small sniffle, 'I've never been one to travel, and I’ve never been outside of England. Lord bless me, I’ve only been to Plymouth and London in my time; but I might very well come with Willow. I’m not so old yet that I’m to be frightened by something new!'
Skye gave her old friend another hug. 'Then come with Willow when she comes!' she said.
'Skye lass, it's growing late now,' Robbie admonished.
The two women hugged a final time, and then Skye caught her daughter to her once more. 'Be good, my little love,' she said, and then releasing Willow, she almost ran out the door.
They hurried through the gardens of Greenwood House down to the private landing where Skye's barge awaited them. The glory of the day had not abated one bit, even now in the late afternoon. The flowering trees scented the air, and already blossoms were beginning to fall, drifting like bits of pink and white silk along the river's green edge. She looked back only once, and then the tears filled her eyes so quickly she couldn't really see. Turning, she climbed into her barge. It was better that way. There were so many memories. Memories of her first trip to London, of Geoffrey, of their falling in love, of Lynmouth House right next to Greenwood, of Niall, and of Robin's birth upon this very river, in this very barge. She had not felt this way since she had fled Algiers. It was as if one door was closing firmly upon her, and although another door loomed open and inviting, through it was the unknown. The unknown had always frightened her.
The river traffic was light at the moment. Business was done for the day, and it was yet too early for the pleasures of the evening to begin. Independent watermen looking for fares to take from one landing of the city to another poled about the river calling out to likely-looking customers along the river banks. They entered the London Pool, and Skye's bargeman steered them skillfully through the many merchantmen and galleons moored or awaiting departure. Her heart quickened as she saw the
'The Queen did provide us with a strong escort, didn't she, Robbie?' Skye queried him.
'Aye, lass. We'll be traveling with a total of ten ships. The escort is led and commanded by a young gentleman from Devon named Francis Drake. He's a competent seaman, but God help the Moors if they attack us. He's the fiercest fighter I’ve ever known. If he doesn't manage to get himself killed he'll one day amount to something, I’ve not a doubt.'
The river barge bobbed and bumped itself against the
