time they got around to her interrogation. He smiled.
Some days later, however, Cecil was not smiling with regard to the matter of Lady Burke. Standing before him was an irritatingly implacable Irish nun who identified herself as Sister Eibhlin nee O’Malley, of St. Bride’s Convent, Inishturk Island. “I have come,” she said in a soft but firm voice, “to attend my sister in her travail.”
At first Cecil pretended ignorance. “Madam,” he answered coldly, “I have no idea to what you refer.”
Eibhlin flashed him a hauntingly familiar mocking smile. “My lord, let us not waste time. Your signature was on my sister’s arrest warrant. I have spent the last several days traveling here at breakneck speed from the west coast of Ireland. I mean to be with Skye, and unless you give me leave to join her, I shall find some means of getting to the Queen and making this whole affair public. The O’Malleys have held their peace thus far, for Lord Burke assures us this is but a misunderstanding.”
“Why?” demanded Cecil, now becoming irritated, “why should I allow you to be with your sister, madam? I will not allow her husband. Why her sister?”
“My brother-in-law is a fine fellow to be sure, sir, but I am a midwife by profession. Skye needs me.”
“She has her woman with her.”
“Daisy? An excellent lass for doing hair or caring for my sister’s clothing and jewels-but as a midwife? I fear not. The mere sight of blood sets the poor girl to swooning and there is much blood connected with a birthing. Did you know that? Perhaps though, you would prefer that my sister suffer.”
“Good God, woman!” snapped Cecil. “We wish no harm to Lady Burke. We would have sent someone to help her when her time came.”
“I can well imagine,” rejoined Eibhlin scornfully. “Some ancient crone with dirty fingernails who would undoubtedly infect both Skye and the babe. What do you know, my lord Cecil, of midwifery?” The Queen’s closest advisor felt his temper rising higher. The woman was insufferable. “Madam,” he thundered, “getting into the Tower is easy. It is the getting out that will be hard.”
Again she smiled that mocking smile, and this time he recognized it. It was the Countess of Lynmouth’s smile.
“I trust I shall be free to come and go, my lord. There will be necessities I must get when my sister’s time comes.” “No, madam,” said Cecil. “It would be too simple for Lady Burke to escape the Tower in a nun’s robes. Whatever you need you must either take in with you or have the servants fetch from the markets. You may enter the Tower, but once you leave it you will not be allowed back inside. Those are the conditions.”
“Very well,” answered Eibhiin. “I will abide by your conditions.” She bowed faintly to him and, turning said regally, “Farewell, my lord. My thanks.”
Several hours later, clutching the precious parchment in her slender hands, Eibhiin O’Malley entered the Tower of London and was escorted to her sister’s apartment high in one of the several towers. As she mounted the stairs, Eibhiin was pleased to see that the soldier who escorted her was respectful, and that the building seemed clean, relatively draft-free, and had no noxious odors.
Skye was sleeping when she arrived, but Daisy practically fell on her neck with undisguised relief.
“Oh, Sister, thank God you’re here!”
Eibhlin’s generous mourn twitched with amusement. “Now, Daisy, is it as bad as all that?”
“Sister, I have never even helped birth a kitten. I was so afraid I’d be alone with my lady when her time came. Lord Burke would surely kill me if I’d let anything happen to either Mistress Skye or the child.”
“Well, you need worry no longer, Daisy. I’m here, and I intend to stay!”
When Skye awoke, Eibhiin was well settled into the Tower suite. “How on earth did you get here?” she exclaimed, hugging her older sister.
“About ten days ago a giant of an Englishman arrived at St. Bride’s and told me you needed me. I was hurried across Ireland on the back of a bony horse, put on a tossing ship, and set down at Lynmouth. Niall told me the rest, and sent me up to London to be with you.”
“And Cecil let you in here? I am surprised. I’ve seen no one but Daisy and the guards since the morning after my arrival. I think I am supposed to be made afraid through continual isolation.” “But being a sensible woman, sister, you are not afraid, I suspect.”
Skye smiled. “No, Eibhiin, I’m not.”
“Then you’ve gained no more sense with the passing years, little sister, than you had at ten,” replied the nun tartly, and Skye laughed. “Oh, Eibhiin, it’s so good to have you with me!”
Later the two sisters bundled together in the large bed that took up almost the entire bedroom. It was hung with Skye’s own garnetcolored velvet hangings. The sheets, feather bed, goosedown pillows, and fur coverlets were her own. A fire blazed in the corner fireplace, warming the cold early December night and scenting the room with the fragrance of applewood. Because it was at the top of one of the towers, Skye’s bedchamber was totally private. It was the one place where she was free of being overheard. Now she and her sister spoke softly, but freely.
“Have they presented you with a list of formal charges?” asked Eibhlin.
“No, which confirms my suspicions that they suspect me of piracy but have no proof. I have not even been questioned.” She chuckled warmly. “No, they have no proof, Eibhlin. They will have to let me go eventually, and I’ll have made Bess Tudor doubly a fool!” Eibhlin looked thoughtful. “Be careful, sister, that it’s not you who rides for a fall. Elizabeth is England’s acknowledged Queen, and if she chooses she can keep you here until you rot.” “If she tries,” said Skye, her voice becoming hard, “the Burkes and the O’Malleys will rouse all of Connaught against her. And if Connaught rebels, all of Ireland will follow. There are enough hotheads in Ireland waiting just for an excuse.”
“My God, Skye, you’re bitter! Why? Why this unremitting hatred for the English Queen?”
Slowly, leaving out no detail, Skye told her sister of the Queen’s decision regarding Robin’s guardianship and of Lord Dudley’s continuing rape and abuse of her. Niall had not explained these things to Eibhlin.
“And I thought I was the rebel,” said Eibhlin. “By God, Skye, you’re a cool one. So the Queen knew of Lord Dudley’s conduct and allowed it. Then she’s gotten what she deserved! Now, however, our problem is to free you.”
“She can do nothing without proof!” maintained Skye stubbornly. “She needs no proof to keep you here,” repeated Eibhlin. “What we must do now is convince her to her satisfaction that you are not guilty.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet. I must pray on it.”
Skye laughed. “It will take a powerful prayer, Eibhlin. Go to sleep. My conscience is as clear as an innocent babe’s.” And so saying, she tied the ribbons of her lace-edged lawn night cap firmly beneath her chin and, lying back, quickly fell asleep. Eibhlin, however, lay awake thinking. Skye was right. The Queen had presented no formal charges of piracy against the Countess of Lynmouth, which meant that she indeed had no proof. But until she was convinced that Skye had had no part in the piracy, she would hold her prisoner, though she dared not act openly against her. It was a standoff.
The following morning as Skye was finishing her daily exercise period on the battlements, a captain of the guards stepped up to her. “Good morning, my lady. I am to escort you to Lord Cecil.” “Very well,” said Skye, her heart quickening. So at last they were going to question her. She was looking forward to the challenge of pitting her wits against Cecil’s. She followed the guardsman through a maze of corridors until, finally, he ushered her into a paneled room with a small oriel window that overlooked the Thames. Seated at a long table were Cecil, Dudley, and two other men. She believed one was the Earl of Shrewsbury, the other Lord Cavendish. Seeing no chair for her, she said icily, “You surely do not expect a woman in my condition to stand, my lords?”
“Please remember that you are a prisoner here, madam,” said Lord Dudley meanly.
“And,” continued Skye, “unless
“Please bring a chair for Lady Burke,” ordered Cecil. “Dudley, be silent.”
“I hope,” remarked Skye boldly as she settled herself with much display, “that you’ll be good enough to explain the meaning of my imprisonment. I have been kept in total ignorance for weeks now, and I am beginning to find this situation quite intolerable.” A grim smile touched the comers of Cecil’s mouth. “We were desirous of speaking with
