Skye O'Malley

He held out his hand to her and she took it, delighting as his warm fingers closed around hers in the lovely and familiar sensation. Together they walked from the library, and upstairs to Skye’s old bedroom overlooking the river. Wordlessly they removed their clothing. As she undressed, the memories crowded in about Skye. Walking to the window, she stared out and saw that the night had begun to clear. Storm-tossed clouds chased the quarter moon across the sky and here and there stars were suddenly visible. How long ago had she stood in this very spot letting Geoffrey into her room? A lifetime ago, surely, and now that was over and done with. She smiled with the memory of her “Angel Earl” hanging on a vine, and then put the memory from her.

She turned back to Niall. He stood watching her struggle with her memories, understanding what she must be going through. Proudly she walked over to him and, standing on tiptoe, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “It is our time now, my lord husband. Our time, now and always!” With a glad cry he swept her up and carried her to their bed.

In the morning the sun shone warm and bright for the first time in days. Spring had finally had its way in England. Skye awoke content and relaxed for the first time in months, blushing rosy with happiness at the memory of the. previous night. Mischievously she straddled the sleeping Niall, lying on his stomach, and began to brush her soft breasts against his back. Shortly her labors were rewarded by a murmuring, and then he said sleepily, “That’s nice, Rose lass, don’t stop.”

“Rose ? Oh, you knave!” she shrieked, outraged. Grabbing a handful of his dark hair, she yanked with all her strength. “Ow!” he roared, his body shaking with laughter. Turning over, he imprisoned her on top of him, and she felt his manhood, hard and seeking. They were face to face, and his silver eyes glittered. He raised her carefully and then lowered her, slowly impaling her inch by sweet inch onto his lance. Her eyes were wide with surprise, and fast clouding with desire.

His hands reached up to play with the perfect round fruits of her breasts, and he lifted his head to nurse on a dark nipple, eyes widening in surprise at the milk that suddenly filled his mouth. Fascinated, he continued suckling, and more excited than she had ever been, Skye found her hips moving in the age-old rhythm of pleasure. She was shocked by herself, and by him, for neither of them could stop. Unable to control herself any longer, Skye pulled away from him and, arching her body, threw back her head, and took her release. Her pleasure increased when she felt him taking his as well. She collapsed atop him, and he gently laid her on her side. When his breathing had quieted he said tentatively, “Dear God, Skye, I apologize.”

“For what, my love?”

“For stealing my daughter’s breakfast,” he answered, shamefaced.

She laughed softly. “Don’t worry, Niall. I have two.”

“Two?”

Skye giggled, openly amused now. ‘Two breasts, my dearest fool! One is more than enough for Deirdre’s breakfast, and I’d best fetch her, for Cecil told me yesterday that we must leave London today without fail.”

“Don’t go, my love,” he pleaded. “It’s been so long.”

“You had Rose to keep you company.”

“No, love. From the day we reconciled our differences and became truly wed there has been no one else.” Sapphire eyes locked into silver ones knew he spoke the truth.

“Thank you, Niall,” she said. “Thank you for that.” There was a sharp rap on the door and Eibhlin’s tart voice called, “Your daughter needs to be fed, and we must be on the road soon. If you’ve not been well reunited by now, then nothing will help you!”

Laughing, Skye slipped a gown about herself, and opening the door took Deirdre from her sister. “Have Daisy arrange my bath, Eibhlin, if you please,” she said. “If I’m going to spend the next several days traveling, I am going to start out clean.” Eibhlin smiled back. “You’re radiant, little sister,” she said, and was gone.

Skye walked back to the bed and lay Deirdre upon it. Fascinated, Niall leaned over and gazed down at his daughter, who puckered up her little face and began to howl. “Good God, what have I done?” He drew back, terrified.

Skye snatched the baby up and put her to the breast. Deirdre’s small hands kneaded her, and though she watched her anxious father with suspicious blue eyes, she suckled noisily without interruption. “It occurs to me that she has never seen a man up close,” said Skye. “She was frightened. In a few days she’ll be very used to you, my love.” Satisfied, Niall.watched with pleasure as his wife fed their child. Afterward they spent a few minutes playing with Deirdre. After tasting her father’s fingers, the baby consented to hold on to them while her father pulled her back and forth. It was a game she particularly enjoyed, and she began to look at Niall with less suspicion. When the maids arrived with Skye’s tub, Deirdre was sent off with her aunt to be prepared for the long journey home. Niall retreated to the room next door, dressed in his traveling clothes, and then checked the coach while Skye finished dressing. The Lynmouth traveling coach had been secreted in Greenwood’s stables so that nobody would know the Burkes were staying there. The coachman and footmen had spent a happy few days in the company of Greenwood’s friendly maids. Now, under their master’s watchful eye, the coach was drawn from the stables and the six matched grays were harnessed to it. The luggage was packed in, and the water. Wine bottles were filled and secured. An open woven wicker basket was carefully fitted into an iron rack attached just three inches above the seat in the center. Lined in silk with a small down mattress, it would shortly hold Lady Deirdre Burke. Daisy would sit on one side of the basket and Deirdre’s doting aunt would sit on the other. Beneath the seat a kitchen maid stored two baskets packed with bread, cheese, hard-cooked eggs, ham, and fruit. In the small family dining room of Greenwood, Robbie, Adam, Eibhlin, Skye, and Niall enjoyed a quick breakfast of ham and egg pudding, bread, and fruit. They had a hard day’s riding ahead of them. They were all eager to be on the road, away from the nightmare that London had become.

Daisy and the baby were already settled inside the coach when Eibhlin climbed in.

“Should we draw the curtains?” asked Daisy.

“Please don’t,” answered the nun. “All I’ve seen of London is a darkened river and the Tower. I’ve never been here before, and I don’t ever expect to come back. I would like to take a memory of this city back to Ireland with me.”

Niall helped his wife mount her horse. Sitting on the animal gave Skye a feeling of freedom that made her giddy. Mindful of the need for secrecy, she drew her hood about her face, noting that the coat of arms had been carefully removed from the coach doors. The coach and the four horses with their riders moved through the streets, London’s morning sounds surrounding them. “Milk! Who’ll buy my good, fresh milk?”

“Violets! Sweet violets!”

“Herring! Fresh-caught herring, ha-penny a pound!”

“Pots! Bring out your pots to mend!”

The solemn little party, well disguised, rode stolidly onward until they gained the high road. When they had traveled several miles outside the city, Skye threw back her hood with an exuberant gesture, and let her long, dark hair billow behind her. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her cheeks were pink with excitement and with the joy of riding. At the top of a hill she stopped and gazed back at the city. “How did you convince Cecil to free me?” she asked her three rescuers.

“You mean Niall didn’t tell you?” demanded Robbie.

“I imagine he’d other things on his mind,” murmured de Marisco.

“Well, how did you do it?” she repeated, and they told her. “You mean you sacrificed your share of the Santa Maria Madre de Cristas for me, Adam? Your share was what you ‘found’ on board the Gazelle!” she asked when they had finished. “I’ll make it up to you! I swear it!”

“You’re free, Skye, and that’s all any of us cared about,” he protested, embarrassed.

“I included your emeralds, the ones you took for yourself. They were added to the Gazelle’s treasure,” said Niall calmly. “You took my emeralds?”

They all waited for the explosion. But Skye began to laugh. “By God,” she said, “I’ve beaten Elizabeth Tudor well and true, and in a manner I never expected to.”

“What do you mean, Skye?” asked Robert Small. “Why, Robbie, the Queen has gained nothing except some gold, and a few cold stones, but I have the true treasure. I have the three of you. Niall, my beloved husband, and my friend Adam, and my dearest Robbie. Until Bess Tudor has a husband and loyal friends like mine, she has nothing of value at all. I pity her.” They stared wonderingly at her, realizing that Skye really did pity the Queen whom she had bested. The three men felt a burning sting behind their eyes, and each blinked rapidly, unashamed. Skye gazed at each of them long and lovingly, and her smile was as bright as the morning. “Gentlemen! I’m for