All the Sweet Tomorrows

I will write to the Queen, she vowed. No, I will write to Lord Burghley! I will explain to him how it is. This marriage is not valid in the eyes of my own Church, and I suspect it is also invalid in the eyes of the Church of England. I must lull the duc into thinking that I am becoming more biddable so that I can speak with Robbie. Bess Tudor has asked many hard things of me, but even she will be shocked to learn of my plight, I know. She will not make me stay here. She cannot!

Skye turned onto her side, away from her new husband who was snoring once again, and gingerly felt the weals he had raised on her skin. She would be revenged for each welt that he had marked on her flesh. That she promised herself. She had no intention of allowing him to further abuse her, even if she had to slit his throat. She could do it, too. Right now he lay helpless next to her, convinced of his own superiority, unbelieving that a woman could wield the power of life and death over any man. She smiled softly in the darkness. Fabron de Beaumont would very shortly learn, much to his distress, what it was like to have Skye O'Malley for an enemy. She didn't think that he was going to like it. Smiling, Skye fell asleep.

PART 2

BEAUMONT DE JASPRE

Chapter 4

Fabron de Beaumont awoke with a start and stared into the blue-green eyes of his bride of less than a day. She was nude and sat comfortably upon his chest, pressing a small but lethal fruit knife against the hollow of his throat. His heart began to pump frantically.

'Do not move, monseigneur,' Skye said pleasantly, 'else my hand slip; and do not make the mistake of thinking I will not kill you, for if you move I will.'

He swallowed hard, and she saw with a certain grim satisfaction the pulse leaping erratically in his throat. 'Why?' he said.

'You asked the Queen of England for a wife, monseigneur, and she graciously supplied you with one. I must assume that you knew the women of my region are proud and independent ladies. Even the women of France are enlightened in this day and age.

'I am not a creature to be beaten into obedience. I am a woman, monseigneur. I am a woman of intelligence, and wealth, and family. If you should ever raise your hand to me again without just cause I will kill you without hesitation. I will be a good wife to you, and if God wills it I will bear you children. I will not, however, convert to your Huguenot faith. I am not the best of Catholics, but I prefer my faith over others, and I have always granted that others have a right to their own beliefs.'

She looked piercingly at him. 'Do you understand me, monseigneur? There will be no more beatings!”

'And if I refuse to agree, you arrogant bitch, what then?' he demanded, his own dark eyes blazing with outrage and anger.

'I will kill you now where you lie, monseigneur,' she said coldly. 'My body is scarred with your marks. I have but to show them to your nephew, and to Pere Henri.

'I will claim that as a good daughter of the Church I knew your pastor had no real authority to wed us, and that although I begged and pleaded with you to call back Pere Henri to marry us in the only true faith, you would not have it.' She smiled sweetly down at him. 'Then I will claim that I could not live in sin with you, having always been a respectable married woman-and monseigneur, my reputation has always been spotless. But you forced yourself upon me, and when I tried to protect my virtue you beat me mercilessly. Having been subjected to a night of your carnal lust and unnatural desires, I did the only thing a good daughter of the Church could have done when you came at me again, threatening my very soul with your wicked perversions. I killed you.' She looked down on him dispassionately. 'Do you really think that the Church, or your good nephew, will hold me responsible for an act committed in a moment of terror?'

Skye had the upper hand now, and she knew it. She had quickly ascertained the duc was no fool. He would therefore not want a scandal. 'The choice as to whether you live or die is up to you, monseigneur. Make it now!' she said, her gaze icy.

'How do you know that you can trust me, madame?' he asked her, unable to keep his eyes from her beautiful breasts. 'I could agree, and then when you are off my chest, your knife put away, renege on our agreement. An agreement made under such duress can scarcely be legal.'

'You are, so your nephew claims, an honorable man. I must assume that honor extends to a mere woman as well as to your fellow man.'

He nodded, rather surprised by her logic. 'Very well, madame, I agree. I will not beat you again, but understand that any children you give me will be brought up in my faith, and not yours. I will not allow you to taint my sons with the great harlot Rome.'

'I agree,' she said without hesitation, knowing that if she decided to bear his children she would be able to teach them love despite Pastor Lichault. She swung lightly off him and lay the fruit knife upon the candlestand. Then, sitting back against the pillows, she drew the finely embroidered linen sheets up to cover her bosom. The simple show of modesty rather intrigued him.

He sat up and looked at her. 'You are a formidable woman, madame.'

'My name is Skye,' she said quietly. 'You have said it but once since we first met yesterday. Can you not call me by my name in the privacy of our chambers at least?'

'You have only used my name once also, Skye.'

'It is an unusual name, Fabron,' she answered him.

'It is peculiar to this region,' he said. 'It is a family name. From the beginning of time there have always been Fabrons in the de Beaumont family.'

There was a long silence between them, and then she asked, 'Why do you dislike women so much?'

He thought a moment, then said, 'I didn't realize that I did until just now.' He sighed. 'I suppose I resent the fact that I could not become a priest in my youth, as I wanted to. I was my father's eldest legitimate son. Edmond's father was my only full brother, although my father populated the region with his bastards. One of those bastards was even the son of a young noblewoman. He had few scruples, my father. He was a very carnal man. He was also a very strong-willed one. Eldest sons inherited, and only death was an accepted excuse for shirking one's responsibilities.

'My first wife suffered many years trying to give me a child. Poor Marie. With each miscarriage or stillbirth she became more determined to give me a live son. Such a sweet woman. She died trying, and I believed that God was punishing me for not having followed my conscience. When my second wife, Blanche, finally gave birth to that drooling idiot who is called my son, and then died also, I was certain that God was punishing me.

'When I met Pastor Lichault and confided in him he assured me that the loss of these two women had satisfied God's anger. He says that you are a healthy, vigorous woman who will easily give me children if I can but curb your wicked spirit, which is an affront to God.'

'I cannot agree with the pastor,' Skye said quietly. 'A woman is best handled with love and kindness. Like a flower, she will grow and flourish with a man's love. Unkindness will only make her vengeful and bitter. Besides, if you expect the kind of son who can rule this duchy, it is a strong woman who must bear him for you.'

'Did you love the other men you were married to, Skye?' he asked her curiously. 'Did they not object to your