All the Sweet Tomorrows

'Osman is growing dotty,' Robbie muttered as Nicolas took Skye from him and, lifting her into his arms, carried her to a nearby settle.

Carefully he propped her up, rubbing her wrists, calling her name softly, almost frantically. A serving man ran up with a small goblet of wine, and gently Nicolas began to force some of the potent liquid down her throat. Skye coughed and then her eyes flew open.

'He is alive!' she cried.

'Who, ma doucette? Let me send the infidel away.'

'No!' She turned her face to the messenger, Haroun. 'Is there any more message?' she almost begged him.

'I have said it all, lady,' he answered her, sorry to see the wonderful light go from her beautiful blue eyes.

'How can I be sure you are who you say?' Skye demanded.

“That's the first intelligent thing you've said,' snapped Robbie, relieved. 'What the hell is he talking about?'

'Osman sends word that Niall is alive.'

'What? Are ye daft, lass?! Niall Burke was murdered by a crazy nun, and dumped in the sea. How the hell can he be alive, and how do you know that's what he means anyway? He who is your true mate? What kind of gobbledygook is that?'

'When Khalid was murdered by Yasmin and Jamil, and I grieved for him, Osman told me that my future was with the man I had first loved, the man of my own homeland, Niall Burke.' She turned to Haroun again. 'Where is the proof you are who you say?' she demanded.

'My master said if you asked for such proof I was to tell you what he once told you. Follow your instincts. They will never fail you,' Haroun replied. 'Play out your part as Allah has foretold.'

Skye grew pale again. 'He is from Osman,' she said with finality.

'What kind of proof is that?' Robbie yelled.

They are Osman's words to me before I left Algiers. Since he spoke them to me when I was alone, I must accept them as proof of Haroun's honesty. He could only have learned them from his master.'

Robbie snorted irritably. 'You, Haroun, how did you know where to find Skye Muna el Khalid?'

'A vessel belonging to this lady stopped in Algiers several weeks ago. I brought its captain to see my master, and my master asked this captain, an old man with a strange and unpronounceable name.'

'MacGuire?'

'Aye, lady!' Haroun's dark face cracked in a small smile. 'My master asked this man to take a message to you, but the old man said that you were not in your homeland, but rather in this place. I was therefore dispatched to fetch you to my master. He says that you must waste no time in coming to him, for the man who is your true mate is in danger.'

'Can we sail tonight?' Skye demanded of Robbie.

'Aye, but I think you're crazy, lass. Let me go to Osman, and see what it is he has to say, if indeed it is really him. Have you forgotten Jamil? God, what Jamil would not give to wreak his revenge upon you, Skye. Algiers is too dangerous for you, lass.'

'No! I will go, Robbie! I must go!'

Robbie looked at Haroun. 'Is Captain Jamil still alive, man?'

'He lives, sir, but at this time he is gone from the city to Istanbul to seek a cure for his illness. It will be safe for the lady. My master would not call her were it not safe.'

'We sail tonight!' Skye said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Nicolas St. Adrian had stood by, looking from one to the other while they had spoken back and forth and to the dark Haroun. The quick language that they had used was not familiar to him, and he had not understood a word that they had said. He had known instinctively, however, that he was somehow about to lose Skye, and all his emotions gathered themselves to fight this. He could not, would not, let her go from him. 'Tell me, doucettem' he begged her. “Tell me what this man has said, and why I feel you are about to go from me?'

She had forgotten him! She had forgotten this gentle and tender man who loved her so deeply, who intended to make her his bride in a month's time. For the last few minutes it had been as if he had not existed, for the truth was that only Niall Burke existed for her. Her hands flew to her face in distress, and her beautiful sapphire eyes, dark in their sorrow, looked into his face. 'I cannot marry you,' she said softly. 'My husband is alive. Haroun has brought me word from an old friend in Algiers that Niall is alive. Osman would not lie to me. I must go to Algiers, Nicolas. I must find Niall.'

'Do not leave me,' he begged her.

'I have no choice, Nicolas,' she said low. 'Niall is alive. I cannot wed another while my lawful husband lives.'

'Let Robert go,' he said. 'Let Robert go to find out if what this man says is true. Stay with me until he returns.'

'Aye!' Robbie chimed in. That's what I told her too, Nicolas, but she will not listen. As always she is stubborn!'

'Niall is alive! Osman says he is in danger,' she shouted at them. 'I must go to him! I must, and I will. To send Robbie is to waste precious time. Wasted time could cost my Niall his life! If that happens I shall never forgive either of you. Never!'

'Go then,' he shouted back at her. 'Go, but if this turns out to be a fantasy, promise me that you will return to me, doucette! At least give me that hope.'

'Osman would not lie to me,' she said softly.

'Promise me!'

She looked into his face and saw that there were tears in his green eyes. 'Oh, Nicolas, what have I done to you! You see! Did I not warn you, my darling? I destroy in one way or another the men who love me. It has ever been thus, and I do not know why it should be.' She leaned over and kissed his cheek. 'I promise that if this is a wild and futile chase I will return to you, my dear Nicolas, for surely no woman has ever been so fortunate in love as she is unlucky.'

'Let the children stay with me,' he said. 'You will return to me, I know it.'

'If I am not back by midsummer, or you have no word of me, you must send them all home, Nicolas. Padraic must be on his lands, and Murrough and Robin have their places at court. Then, too, you must choose another wife.'

'No!' His handsome face was anguished. 'No,' he repeated softly.

'Yes,' came the voice of Edmond de Beaumont, and the dwarf hopped down from the large chair where he had been sitting quite hidden. He had heard all, and now he spoke urgently to his uncle. 'Have you forgotten why you were made Fabron de Beaumont's heir, Nicolas? Of all the eligible men in this family only you are whole, normal, able to father the next generation. For that, my Uncle, you will need a wife.'

'I have Skye,' came the stubborn reply.

'No longer, I think,' Edmond de Beaumont said sadly. 'It pains me also, Nicolas. Never in my lifetime has this castle been as happy as it has been since she came into it bringing her laughter and joy for life and love. We should, however, do Skye's memory a great disservice if we allow ourselves to fall back into the old and gloomy ways.' His violet eyes brimmed with sympathy for his uncle. Of them all, he understood her loss best, for Edmond de Beaumont loved Skye, too. Looking at her now, he said, 'Must you go, cherie?'

'Yes, Edmond, I must go. If Osman says that Niall is alive, then Niall is alive. How, or where, or why I do not know, and I will not know until I see