Skye O'Malley

“Whoreson!” she hissed. “Bastard! You sank my boat! How dare you! How dare you!” And her fist lashed out to hit him a blow that caught him off guard and actually staggered him. He grabbed at her, successfully holding her arms, and looked down into her face. The hatred he saw there was as fierce as her blow had been. Silently he cursed his father and Seamus O’Malley for ever believing that he and Skye could be reunited. “Aye!” he said through clenched teeth. “I sank your damned boat! I’ll not have you running off to your lover again and possibly passing off his bastards as my sons.”

Outraged, she let out a piercing shriek. “Do you consider me so without honor then, Niall Burke? And I repeat, / have no lover!” Then she wrenched out of his grasp and ran back up the stairs. Skye was very worried. It was time for the spring parade of ships to be arriving from the Indies. Word had come from Bideford that very morning that half a dozen ships, the largest grouping ever, would be here within the next few days. She had to get word to de Marisco and her fleet, which was waiting now on Lundy for her instructions. If she could not go to them, then they must come to her.

When evening fell Skye climbed up the west tower of the castle. In the tiny topmost room that faced Lundy, she lit two small signal lights in stone dishes and placed them in the window. One was set up high, the other low. Across the clear calm of the sea a boy at the top of de Marisco’s keep looked hard, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Then he hurried to find his master. Adam de Marisco looked across the eleven miles of water with his spyglass. One high, one low. The meaning was “Come at once. I need you.” They had set up that signal after last winter’s unfortunate episode with Lord Dudley. But why would she need him now? What of her husband? Still, Skye wasn’t a woman to take things overhard. If the signal was there, then she must need him.

Several hours later, for the winds had been light and he had been forced to tack back and forth in order to reach Lynmouth Castle, he sailed into the cave and up to the mooring. Skye’s boat was gone, but she stood awaiting him.

“Adam! Thank God you’ve come! I was afraid you wouldn’t see the signal tonight.” She made his craft fast, and he climbed out. “Where is your boat, little girl?”

“My husband sank it, Adam. He believes I use it to go to a lover. My sea clothes picked up the scent of your damned tobacco last trip over, and he smelled it on me.”

De Marisco whistled softly. “How did you explain it?” he asked.

“I didn’t.”

“Dammit, Skye! You must drive the man mad. Well, perhaps you’ll calm down when you are with child.”

She laughed harshly. “There’ll be no children, Adam, for the marriage is in name only. I angered him so that he’s sworn never to take me unless I ask-and I never shall! But that’s not why I called you here. I received word this morning that six ships are due into Bideford within the next few days-three English, two French, and a Dutchman sailing in convoy.”

“You’ve got the route they’ll take?”

“Yes, Adam!” her voice was excited. “I’d like to take them all!

D’you think MacGuire and his men can do it?”

Adam de Marisco stroked his chin reflectively and his smoky blue eyes sparkled. “Where would you do it?”

“Off Cape Clear. There are plenty of places to hide there.” “By God, you’re a bold wench! Yes! Yes, I do believe MacGuire and his men can pull it off!”

“Good! Then tell him those are my instructions,” Skye chuckled. “Lord Dudley owns a half-share in one of those ships. He’ll be ruined.”

“The Queen will make it up to him,” observed Adam. “Indeed she will, but it will be hard for her to do so, for her own coffers are none too full right now and she will be further strapped by the loss of her share from these goods.”

“Where do you want the goods sent, Skye?”

“I think we should hold these cargoes till midsummer. The flow of ships is greater then and the furor will have died down. It wouldn’t be safe to dispose of the cargo now.”

“If you’ve no further instructions, little girl, I’ll be on my way.

I don’t think Lord Burke would be too pleased to find me here.” ‘To Hell with him! Oh, Adam! Get me another boat. I shall go mad penned up here.”

“I don’t know, Skye. I’m not sure you’re wise to defy him. Wait a bit, little girl, until your anger is cooled. I’ll return here in a fortnight. If it’s stormy then I’ll come the first clear night after that.” She pouted slightly then said, “Oh, all right, Adam, but why do I get the feeling you’re in sympathy with him ?”

He grinned up at her from his boat. “Because I am, little girl.” I cannot imagine being wed to you and not loving your tempting little self. I wonder whether the man’s a saint or a fool.” She laughed and threw him his rope. “I’m not sure what he is either, de Marisco.”

“Don’t you think that it’s time you found out?” came the reply, and then the lord of Lundy’s little boat slipped out into the sea, its bow pointed for home, scuttling away like a crab on the morning sand.

She stood perplexed, then shrugged. Men! They were always trying to tell a woman what to do and they invariably stuck together. Still, Adam’s words haunted her. What was Niall Burke all about? She realized she didn’t know. Looking back, she saw the spoiled child-woman she had been at fifteen, the “Black” O’Malley’s darling. And she remembered how she had felt when she had first met Niall Burke, a sudden realization that she had met the man whom she would love the rest of her life. What an innocent thing she’d been! For she had loved two men since, learning that it was possible to love more than one man.

But had she ever really loved Niall Burke or had she been sexually aroused? Hating poor Dom so violently had helped rum her toward Niall. What had the Skye O’Malley of ten years ago known of life, of the world, of a man and a woman?

It had been a shock to find herself summarily wed to him without her own consent. Still-and she frowned to remember, instead of accepting the positive aspects of the situation-she had reverted to the child she had once been instead of acting like the woman she had become. Was it then so surprising that he treated her like a child?

After all, he understood her need for freedom, which was a good start. He was attractive, with no disgusting habits such as swilling his food or breaking wind in public. He liked the children, and they liked him. When she thought of the type of man she might have been married to, Niall Burke shone by comparison. Still, he had sunk her boat, and he accused her of taking a lover. She sighed, having failed to convince herself that Niall was either a devil or an angel.

She returned to the Great Hall to find Niall romping noisily with Robin and Willow. She sat at the board quietly watching them, a soft smile on her lips. He was so good with her children. She thought guiltily that she had given Khalid and Geoffrey children, and was Niall not entitled to children also?

“Hungry, madam?” He sat down next to her. “Be off, you little wild beasts!” he called to the children. “Kiss your mother, and then find your beds.”

Skye enfolded the children in her arms, gently nuzzling Robin’s soft golden hair, kissing the top of Willow’s dark head. “Good night, Mama,” said her little son. “Good night, Robin. God give you happy dreams.” “Good night, Mama,” smiled Willow. “I like our new father, don’t you?” she said enthusiastically.

Niall’s lips twitched and his silvery eyes locked for a moment onto her sapphire ones. Skye flushed as his deep voice drawled lazily, “Well, Mama? Do you like me?”

“Don’t be silly, Niall!” she muttered. “God give you sweet dreams, Willow. Now run along.”

The children ran to hug Niall, and then hurried out. “Where were you?” he asked quietly.

A sharp reply sprang to her lips, but she swallowed it back. “I was below in the boat cave,” she said.

“And the signal lights from the west tower window?” So he had seen them! “Oh, I must tell Daisy to extinguish them,” she said, as if to herself. Then she turned and uttered a small white lie. “The lights are a prearranged signal to my ships on Lundy Isle. MacGuire is there.”

Comprehension dawned on Niall. MacGuire smoked a pipe! “Is that where you were the other night? On Lundy?” “Yes.”

“Why the devil didn’t you tell me?” Good Lord! She’d been with MacGuire, and he’d acted the jealous fool! A lover! “I didn’t like your manner of asking,” she answered loftily, knowing where his thoughts had led him, but unwilling to correct his mistaken impressions.

“Dammit, Skye. I’m always the fool where you’re concerned.