and, like a prism, it caught the light and twinkled?a rainbow back at her. The sapphires were among the finest she’d?ever seen, and certainly Indian.
“My lord, I cannot. They are far too valuable,” she sighed regretfully.
“Geoffrey, sweetheart, and I beg you not to be silly. What harm?is there in two friends exchanging gifts on New Year’s Day?”
“But I have nothing for you,” she protested again.
“Nothing? Have you not given me the hope that someday we?might share love between us? And your sweet kisses are far more?precious to me than jewels. Come, love, let me fasten the sapphires?into your little ears.” His hands brushed her curls back, making her?shiver, and he carefully set the earrings in their places. “Perfection,”?he said.
Skye faced the pier glass, turning this way and that to admire the?sparkling, richly blue stones. “Damn you,” she said softly, “they’re?beautiful-and I love them!”
He chuckled. “I’m happy to see you exhibit even the tiniest bit?of greed, sweet Skye. Now, love, I’ve something else for you before I go. An invitation to my Twelfth Night masque. Will you come??Perhaps Captain Small will escort you? The Queen will be there.?I have not yet broached the subject of a royal charter for your trading? company, but I shall do so before the ball, and I will endeavor to?present you to Her Majesty that evening.”
“Oh, Geoffrey, how lovely! Of course I shall come, and Robbie?shall be my escort, though I doubt I can get him into anything overly?elegant. Robbie takes no pleasure in lavish dressing.”
He nodded, satisfied. “I must get back to Whitehall now, sweet-?heart.” He rose and she moved toward him. He towered over her,?making Skye feel very small as she gazed up at him. His long fingers?trailed smoothly over her upturned face. “I’m a patient man as long?as the prize is worth the wait, my pet.”
“I could disappoint you, Geoffrey,” she frowned up at him, her?face intent.
“I think not, Skye. I think not.” He brushed her lips lightly with?his. “What would you like for Twelfth Night?”
“My lord! You must not spoil me!”
“Sweetheart, I’ve not even begun to, but I shall. Until Twelfth?Night.” She hadn’t time to reply before he nodded and, turning, left?the room without another word.
Geoffrey Southwood strode down to the river bank and hailed a?waterman to take him the short distance back to the palace. “White-?hall,” he said, climbing into the little boat and seating himself.
“Aye, me lord,” the waterman said as he pushed off into the?stream. “I’m going to enjoy de Grenville’s barge very much,” the?Earl said softly to himself. Then he grew somber. It was no longer?a game. To his surprise, his heart had become deeply involved. He?had not been entirely truthful in letting Skye believe that the Queen?had kept him at Hampton Court. There had been several occasions?over the past few weeks when he might have returned home. But?he had chosen not to because he had wanted time to think.
She had been so very vulnerable that November night, and he?could have taken her easily. She was young. She had known a great?love. Widowed two years, she was now obviously ready for a man.?His bet with de Grenville might have been won then and there. But?she had trembled faintly in his arms, and somehow he couldn’t?dishonor her. Geoffrey was amazed at himself, for he had never?been soft, or overly concerned with the feelings of others.
When he had returned to his house that night he had found a?plump little maid bringing wood to his bedchamber. His green eyes?narrowed speculatively for desire rode him fiercely. He slid an arm?about her little waist, and she giggled.
“What’s your name, lass?”
“Poll, m’lud.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirteen, St. Thomas’s Day past, m’lud.”
“Are you willing?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Are you a virgin?”
“Nay, sir,” she said as she shed her blouse, revealing breasts?generous for one so young. Her skirts and petticoats rapidly fol-?lowed, and she was naked.
There were no preliminaries. He loosened his codpiece and, pull-?ing her to the bed, pushed her down and fell on her. He pumped?into her methodically until she cried her pleasure. The ache in his?manhood was finally soothed. Rolling off her, he lay quietly for a?moment and then rose from the bed. Drawing a gold piece from his?purse, he gave it to her. “Run along now. Poll.” The girl gathered?up her garments and, giving him a saucy smile, ran from the bedroom.
He sighed now with the memory. He had been physically ap-?peased, but by no means satisfied. It was Skye he had wanted. There?was an innocence about her, though she had been married, widowed,?and was a mother. That innocence made him want to love Skye, not?betray her.
There was no doubt about it, the Earl of Lynmouth was feeling?the pangs of real love for the first time in his life.
Robert Small was not thrilled by the invitation to the masque.?”Dammit, Skye, I’m no gallant to be escorting you.”
“Now, Robbie, stop grumbling. Geoffrey suggested it himself,?though I warned him you’d fuss. The Queen will be there, and he?has promised to present us.”
His weathered face softened a little. “Well, I’d like to meet Young?Bess, I would. What must I wear?”
“Nothing overly ornate. I promise. I have decided to go as?’Night.’ Your costume will match mine. I’ll have them done, so you?need go only for one or two fittings with the tailor.”
“Very well, poppet. I can’t let you go alone else those elegant?Court popinjays overwhelm you.”
She kept her word, and on the night of the masque Robert Small?found himself dressed quite simply though very elegantly indeed in?a black velvet doublet sewn with tiny silver brilliants, and edged in?silver lace at the neck and sleeves. The short round black breeches?were lined in stiff horsehair to puff them out. He wore black silk? stockings and thick-soled black leather shoes with silver rosettes.?His short cape was also of black velvet, lined in cloth of silver and?trimmed in sable.
Skye presented him with a beautiful golden sword, its handle?sprinkled with small sapphires, rubies, and diamonds. To her vast?amusement he swaggered before the receiving-room pier glass, a?little smile playing across his lips.
“Do you think you might crow?” she teased.
He reddened. “Ah, give over, Skye. But damned if I don’t look?as good as any dandy.”
“You do. I only wish Dame Cecily could see you.”
“Thank God she can’t! I’d never hear the end of it. She’s always?trying to rig me out for some party or other, but I’ve avoided her?so far. Now don’t you tell on me.”
Skye laughed. “All right, Robbie I’ll keep this a secret.”
He sighed, turned from the mirror, then eyed her critically. “Isn’t?your neckline a bit low?”
“No, Robbie, it isn’t,” she said softly, “it’s the height of fashion.?Now let me have the mirror, if you can tear yourself away.” He?sniffed in mock offense and she stuck her tongue out at him.
“I’ll see the coach is ready, Mistress Peacock,” he said, striding?grandly from the room.
Skye stood quietly gazing at her image. Her black velvet dress?was magnificent, and she knew she should eclipse every woman at?the masque. The low, square neckline was unrelieved by any lace?at all, but offered a very daring show of white breasts instead. The?sleeves, full to just below the elbow, were slashed to show silver?lace inserts. The silver lace was repeated at her wrists. The black?velvet bell-shaped skirt parted to reveal a black brocade underskirt?which had moons, stars, planets, and comets embroidered on it in?silver, pearls, and diamonds. Her black silk stockings with their?silver lace rosette garters were sewn with tiny diamond brilliants,?as were her narrow, pointed, high-heeled black silk shoes.
Her hair, parted in the center, was arranged in a soft chignon at?the nape of her neck. This new French fashion would also set her?apart from the other women at the masque. They would still be?wearing their hair puffed out at each side. Her pearl-and-diamond?hair ornaments were shaped like stars and tiny crescent moons.
Her necklace was a magnificently opulent display of blue-white?diamonds. There was a matching bracelet. And in her ears were?pear-shaped diamonds that fell from baroque pearls. On the fingers?of her left hand she wore
