pain.
De Grenville was soon in his cups, and he leered at Skye in a?friendly fashion. “For a learned and modest woman you cost me?dearly, Mistress Skye. Now that the Earl of Lynmouth is back at?Court I suppose he’ll be taking my barge.”
He was back! And he’d never even sent her word! “Why should?he take your barge, Dickon?” she asked absently.
Robert Small suddenly came to life. “That’s no story for Skye’s?ears, Dickon!” he protested, kicking his friend beneath the table.
But de Grenville paid him no heed. His hostess’s rich wine had?fuzzed his wits. “Why shouldn’t she know, Robbie? When I turn?my barge over to Geoff it will be all over Court. Don’t know why?I bet him anyway, but I did want that stallion.”
Skye felt a premonition of disaster run through her. “What bet?is this, Dickon?”
“Enough, de Grenville!” cried Robert Small desperately, glancing?toward his sister and Marie.
“No, Robbie,” snapped Skye. “I believe I should hear what Dickon has to say. Pray, sir. enlighten me as to what you and my?lord Earl wagered.”
“I bet my barge against his prize stud stallion that he couldn’t?make you his mistress within a six-month period. Looked like such?a sure thing. You certainly cut him dead at the inn in Dartmour.?Didn’t think he was your type at all. But then, my father always?said women were a fickle lot and not to be trusted.”
Cecily and Marie both gasped. The Gallic Jean shrugged philo-?sophically. But Robbie, who knew her best of all, held his breath?in anticipation of the explosion that immediately followed.
“The bastard!” she raged. “The damned bastard! I could kill him!?I
Marie and Cecily rose to follow her-, but Robbie stayed them with?a gesture and went after her himself. He saw her running across the?terrace, down into the garden. His short legs pumping hard, he ran?after her calling, “Skye, lass! Wait for me, Skye!” She stopped, but?her back remained toward him. As he reached her he could see her?shoulders shaking. He walked around her and gathered her into his?arms. She wept wildly. “Oh, lass, I am so sorry. But don’t waste?your tears on him. He’s not worth it, Skye. He’s not worth any?grief.”
“I l-l-love him, Robbie.” she sobbed, “I l-l-love the bastard!”
He sighed. He was going to have to hurt her further, but there?was no help for it. Best she know the worst from him than have?some ass like de Grenville tell her. He drew her over to a carved?stone bench and they sat down.
“I want you to hear this from me, Skye. Southwood’s only son?and his wife and four of his daughters are dead of the smallpox.?That’s what sent him down into Devon in January. De Grenville?tells me the rumors at Court are that the Queen has already picked?out an heiress for him, and Geoffrey Southwood would never say?no to a wealthy match. And now that he no longer has a son, it is?imperative that he remarry. The sooner the better, I would say, for?with a new wife he’ll have little time for you, lass.”
She raised her face to him and he thought as he had thought a?hundred times or more, that she was the most beautiful woman he?had ever known. Tonight when he left her he would visit a sweet?young whore of his acquaintance, but on the long nights at sea it?would be Skye he thought of, not little Sally. It would be Skye’s?face that he would easily recall to mind, the young prostitute’s fading?from memory within an hour of their parting.
“You understand what I’m saying to you, Skye?” He looked anxiously into her wet sapphire eyes. “You understand that in all?likelihood it’s finished with Southwood.”
She sighed. “I am carrying his child, Robbie. In six months’?time, more or less, I shall present the seventh Earl of Lynmouth?with a child, and I pray God it’s a son! And I also pray that his rich,?new wife does precisely what his last rich wife did-deliver girls!”
“Marry me, Skye.”
“You are prejudiced, Robbie,” she smiled wanly. “Take me back?inside and I’ll bid de Grenville goodnight. What time do you sail?tomorrow?”
“We catch the midday tide. I’ll come in the morning to bid you?farewell.”
They walked back through the garden and into the house. De?Grenville had fallen asleep in his chair.
“il
“No,” said Skye.
“He hurt you,
Skye shrugged. “Better I heard it from him than from a stranger,?Marie. Alas, our good wine does not agree with him.”
Suddenly the small dining-room door was flung open and Skye’s?bargeman stumbled into the room beside her majordomo, Walters,?who gasped, “Madam, the Queen comes!”
“What!?”
The bargeman spoke up. “The Queen, mistress! She’s almost?here! She sent a messenger ahead of her on the river.”
“My God, I’m not dressed properly to receive her! Quick, Marie!”?And she raced upstairs to her own apartment, calling to Daisy as?she ran. “Fetch the burgundy-colored silk with the gold-and-cream-?stripped underskirt. The rubies! My gold ribbons! Marie, go back?downstairs and have Walters clear the dining room. I’ll want ham,? cheeses, fruits, thin sugar wafers, and wines. Have them set on the?sideboards in the banquet room. Wake de Grenville and have Robbie?sober him!”
Marie turned and ran from the room while the maids fluttered?about Skye. She quickly changed her clothes. “Hawise, watch the?window! Sing out the second you see the Queen’s barge!”
A few minutes later, as Skye smoothed the wrinkles from the?elegant silk gown, Hawise called, ‘The Queen’s barge is rounding?the bend, ma’am!” Skye flew from the room and down the stairs.?Catching Robbie and de Grenville by the hands, the trio sped across?the terrace, down another garden, and reached the barge landing? moments before the Queen’s boat bumped it. The two men stepped?forward to aid Elizabeth as she disembarked, while Skye swept the monarch a magnificent curtsey, her wine-colored skirts billowing?gracefully, her dark head lowered in perfect submission.
The young Queen eyed her hostess approvingly. “Rise, Mistress?Goya del Fuentes. Ton my soul, you make the most elegant and?graceful curtsey I’ve ever seen!”
Standing, Skye thanked the Queen with a smile and Elizabeth?said, “We hope you’ll forgive us this unorthodox visit, but it was?brought to our attention that Sir Robert sails tomorrow. We could?not allow him to leave on such a lengthy voyage without giving him?our good wishes.”
Robbie flushed with obvious pleasure. “Majesty, I am over-?whelmed by your kindness.”
“Madam,” said Skye, “will you take refreshment?”
“Thank you, mistress. Sir Robert, de Grenville, you may escort?me. Southwood, take Mistress Goya del Fuentes and Mistress Knol-?lys.”
The Queen moved off, leaving Skye stricken. Here was Geoffrey?stepping up from the Queen’s barge, handing out a ravishing lovely?red-headed girl.
“Skye, may I present the Queen’s cousin Lettice, this is Mistress?Goya del Fuentes.”
Lettice Knollys smiled in a friendly fashion, her pale skin glowing?and youthful. “We’re of an age,” she said. “May I call you Skye,?and you call me Lettice?”
“But of course,” Skye answered. God in Heaven, was this girl?the rich match the Queen proposed for Geoffrey?
“It’s good to see you, Skye,” the Earl of Lynmouth murmured?softly as he escorted both women up the garden to the house. Behind?them the other half-dozen barges that had escorted the Queen were?unloading their passengers.
“What a charming house you have,” remarked Lettice. “I have?always wanted a small house on the Strand. You do not come to?Court, do you?”
“There is no need. And besides, I am not of the nobility. If the?Queen invited me, however, I would, of course, obey.”
They had reached the house now, and as they entered, Southwood?said quietly, “Lettice, I must speak with Skye. Keep the Queen?occupied for me.” Before Skye had time to protest he had whisked?her into the library and
