Chapter 4
An especially nice tiling came of Skye’s stay at St. Bride’s.?Walking on the beach one day, she came across an injured?young wolfhound, not quite full grown. The poor creature?was half starved, its ribs plainly visible. Its fur was so filthy?and matted with salt that it was difficult to tell the dog’s true color.?Its leg had been caught in a rock crevice. Hearing the weak bark,?Skye ran to the dog, who looked up at her hopefully and thumped?his long tail in a friendly fashion.
“Ah, poor beastie,” murmured Skye sympathetically, and set?about freeing the dog. Carefully she removed the small rocks about?the animal’s leg. And then, as gently as she could, she drew the leg?from its prison. The dog winced, but did not growl. Skye patted?him. “There, love, come along now and let’s find some food for?you.” The dog fought his way to his feet and limped, stumbling a?little, after her.
The nuns were as sympathetic as Skye had been, and allowed the?dog into the convent. His origin and owner remained a mystery. The?island peasants would not dare claim the royal canine. Peasants kept?only working dogs, such as terriers, mastiffs, and mongrels. The?Irish wolfhound, that great killer of wolves and other predators,? belonged to the ruling class, as did Irish setters.
Skye named the dog Inis, after the favorite hound of Partholan,?an early settler in Ireland. Inis attached himself to her with a singular?devotion. He walked out with her in the mornings, sailed with her?in the convent’s little boat, and slept with her at night, spreading?his great lanky frame across the foot of her bed. Within a few weeks?he had regained his normal adult weight, one hundred sixty pounds,?and stood thirty-eight inches high. Bathed, his fur became a shining?silvery gray that reminded Skye of Niall’s eyes. Inis’s ears and the?feathers on his legs were black. The hound was Skye’s slave, his?soulful eyes lighting up with pleasure each time he looked at her.
Skye needed the dog’s love, for Niall Burke appeared to have?forgotten her entirely. And then there came the day when her show?of blood arrived right on schedule. She wept into Inis’s soft neck,?her heartbreak complete.
The Reverend Mother Ethna sent a message to the young O’Flaherty informing him that his wife was not pregnant and a week?later Dom arrived to claim his wife. The Reverend Mother personally?showed him into Skye’s apartment. “I would have come sooner,”?he said, smiling smugly, “but I was obliged to attend Niall Burke’s? wedding to Darragh O’Neill.”
Skye fainted. When she came to she was lying on the settle. She?heard Dom speaking solicitously to the nun. “I did not realize the?news of Lord Burke’s marriage would so unsettle my lady.”
“Did you not, my lord?” said Ethna O’Neill coolly.
O’Flaherty smiled and, ignoring the nun’s sarcasm, continued.?”I realize it is unusual for a gentleman to spend the night in your?convent, but I really do not think my wife should be moved until?the shock wears off.”
The Reverend Mother Ethna had decided she did not like Dom?O’Flaherty, but she did agree with him that Skye should not be?moved right now. She was forced to assure him that, though it was?unusual, it was not forbidden him to spend the night under St. Bride’s?roof. He was welcome. Dom thanked her politely, then asked if she?would take his wife’s hound, see that it was fed, and have it put in?the stables with his men and horses. Inis, who had taken an instant?dislike to Dom, was removed under protest.
They were alone. Dom O’Flaherty walked to the settle and said?coldly, “I know you’ve recovered your swoon, Skye. Now get up?and greet your lord and master properly.”
Slowly, she rose and placed a quick kiss on his mouth. He chuck-?led and with lightning swiftness pulled her close. She tensed and he?laughed. “Ah, yes. You don’t like me, do you, wife? How unfor-?tunate for you for you’ll soon be spreading yourself wide for my?pleasure, and my pleasure alone. And when I’m deep inside you I’ll?wipe all thought of Niall Burke from your mind!” His mouth ground?down on hers, and she beat her clenched fists against his chest. Then?suddenly she was rescued by a knock on the door. Dom smothered?a curse and called out sharply, “Come in!”
Two nuns, each laden down with a tray of steaming food, hurried?in, their eyes lowered. Placing their trays on the great refectory?table, they hurried out as quickly.
Skye pulled from her husband’s grasp. “How thoughtful!” she?exclaimed brightly. “We have been sent supper.”
“I’ve no appetite for food yet,” he said in a surly tone.
She raised the cover of a dish. “Look! Boiled shrimp! And here’s?a lovely capon, and a small joint of mutton! If we don’t eat it now,?it will get cold.”
“Let it!” He came swiftly up behind her and loosened her laces,?sliding his hands around to cup her breasts. “This is what I’m hungry for, Skye,” be said, squeezing her flesh. “The food will wait. Your?laces are loosened. Go into the bedroom, finish undressing, and wait?for me in the bed.”
She closed her eyes to squeeze back tears. “Oh, Dom!” she?pleaded. “Not here! I’ll do whatever you want me to, but not here?in this holy house. Not here!”
“I hadn’t considered it that way,” he said thoughtfully, “but the?idea of fucking you in a convent appeals to me. Shall we pretend?you’re a young nun about to be ravaged by a Viking chief?” She?blanched at his sacrilege, and he snarled, “Quickly, Skye! I’m hot?for you-having been denied my marital rights for over a month!”?He punctuated his words with a light slap to her cheek.
She wanted to fight him, but she had been so badly broken by?the news of Niall’s marriage that she couldn’t find the spirit. She?fled into the bedroom and, with shaking fingers, pulled her clothes?off and climbed into the big bed. A moment later, Dom entered the?room, drinking from a goblet of wine. Placing the goblet on the?nightstand, he undressed swiftly, letting his clothes fall where they?dropped. When he turned to enter the bed she bit back a cry of?terror. Niall had been a big man, but Skye’s husband was unnaturally?large, enormous. Seeing her fear, he chuckled. “The wenches in?Paris call me Le Taureau! Do you know what that means?”
Terrified, she nodded. “The bull.” Her voice was a whisper.
“Aye, the
Skye managed to gasp, “But Dom! I am not ready!”
He raised himself above her, and gazed down at her. “You’re not?ready?” His look was incredulous. Had he not been so astounded?he might have hit her. “You do not have to be ready, Skye. I am!”
And she felt herself being ripped asunder by his monster sex.?Before she could cry out, his hand clapped over her mouth. He?pushed himself into her, muttering all the while, “You’re tight as?a drum, woman! Burke’s cock must be no bigger than a worm, to?have left you so tight!” He grunted his pleasure while, beneath him,?her eyes reflected pain and fright. She tried to lie still, hoping to?ease the pain, but she couldn’t. She writhed in an effort to escape?him, and mistaking her actions for growing passion, he laughed.?”I knew it! Beneath all the ladylike manners you’ve the makings of?a good whore! I’m a lucky man!” And he drove deeper and harder?into her. “Don’t fear, lovey,” he panted, “I’ll teach you many a?good trick to please us both!” Then, with a growl of pleasure, he? collapsed.
For a moment they lay sandwiched together, then O’Flaherty got?up and, returning to the dayroom, poured himself more wine. Skye?felt tears gushing down her cheeks, but she made no sound for fear?of angering him. She heard him lifting the covers of the dishes,?sampling the food. He didn’t think to offer her any.
Coming back into the small bedroom, clutching a chicken leg,?Dom sat on the side of the bed. He patted her backside. Skye feigned?sleep, hoping he would leave her in peace. She heard the sound of?his slow, methodical munching, and then the leg bone hit the floor.?”Spread yourself!”
Resistance was useless. She was his wife, his chattel. She obeyed?and was once again subjected to pain and degradation. When he was?through this time he rolled off her and fell asleep on his back, snoring?contentedly. Skye waited until she was sure he slept soundly, then?crept from the bed. She could barely walk, but she would have? crawled on her hands and knees to get out of that room.
Gaining the dayroom she shakily poured herself some wine, spill-?ing half on the table. Adding some more wood to the fire, she?collapsed into the large chair.
Niall! His gentle hands, his loving mouth! He had sought to please?her while teaching her to please him. Damn
