She wanted to weep at the pain she saw etched in his handsome face. Why was it that she was always giving such agony to those good men who did naught but love her. Why should her love bring such pain? Instinctively she held out her arms to him, wanting to comfort him somehow. “Oh, Nicolas,” she murmured against his reddish hair. “Dear, dear Nicolas! I am so sorry, my love. I am so sorry!” Her arms closed about him, and she held him as she would hold a hurt child.
He shuddered against her. “I don’t want you to go,” he said softly.
“You know I have no choice. If Niall Burke is alive how can I stay with you, Nicolas? We could not marry. Our children would have no right to inherit Beaumont de Jaspre.”
“Do you love Niall Burke?” His voice was ragged.
“I have loved him since I was fifteen,” she cried.
“Do you love me?”
“You are asking me to choose, Nicolas, and the choice is not mine to make.”
“Do you love me?” he repeated.
“I had begun to, Nicolas. Yes! I had begun to love you.”
“This is madness,” he said to her. “How can your husband be alive after all this time? You go but to chase a dream, doucette!”
“Perhaps,” she allowed. “But if Osman has said he is alive, then he is alive. I do not know how, but if I did not go to find out the answer to this puzzle, Nicolas, I should always wonder. If Niall is indeed alive I cannot in good conscience marry you, for I should be committing a mortal sin.”
“You will come back to me,” he said firmly, and he pulled back from her, looking with love into her face.
Now it was Skye who wanted to cry. “Seek elsewhere for a bride, my love,” she said softly. “It is unlikely that I will ever come back, Nicolas. I cannot ask you to wait for me. Every day that you remain unmarried you endanger your duchy, and you are the last hope of Beaumont de Jaspre. How your people love you! Since you came from your home in Poitou there has never been such gladness here. Find some sweet young girl to make your wife, the mother of the next generation.”
“No!” He was suddenly angry; frustrated that what he wanted so desperately was being torn from him. “I will only marry you, Skye. If I cannot have you then I want no woman. I shall go back to my holding in Poitou, and to Hell with Beaumont de Jaspre!”
Skye became equally angry, and her hand flashed out to make very hard contact with his cheek. Stunned, he fell back, for she had put all her strength into the blow. “Coward!” she said furiously. “Is this how you keep your promise to Fabron de Beaumont who so generously bestowed his realm and his wealth upon you? You gave your half-brother a death-bed promise that you would rule this duchy and keep it safe from the French. You gave him your promise to care for Edmond and Garnier. Do you think a French overlord will care for them? They will be thrown into the streets to fend for themselves, if they are not driven from Beaumont entirely!”
Her hand had left a bright red mark on his cheek, and rubbing that mark, Nicolas tried to explain. “I have never loved anyone before you,” he said in a low voice. “How can I live without you?”
“You think only of yourself, Nicolas,” she said scornfully. “I told you once that wealth and power are a great responsibility, to be wielded carefully. I have been wielding both since I was scarcely more than a girl. There have been times when it has been hard for me not to yield to my own desires, but I have not, and you cannot! If you love me you will let me go, Nicolas, because you cannot keep me now. All the devils in Hell could not keep me here by your side now that I know my Niall is alive!”
For a moment he closed his eyes, and she knew that he was fighting back the tears, as she struggled to contain her own sorrow. She must be strong, and she must instill in him some of that same strength. But she had not lied to him when she had said that she was beginning to love him. How could she not when he adored her so, and was so good both to her and the children? She had felt so safe with him.
“I will never forget you, doucette,” he said.
“Nor I you, Nicolas,” she answered him.
“You are sure?” For the briefest moment his green eyes held a flicker of hope.
“I must go,” was her simple reply, and for an equally brief moment Skye wondered if she was totally mad. Then, regaining control of herself, she said brightly, “You will have a wonderful time, Nicolas. You are now a most eligible man of considerable wealth. Think of all the lovely girls available to you, but choose quickly lest the French be tempted to a rash act.”
He sighed deeply, and she almost screamed with the sadness in the sound. “What kind of a girl should I choose, doucette? After you, mon amour, how will I be content with anyone?”
“I think, perhaps, a very young girl, Nicolas, but choose one with spirit, intelligence, and a sense of humor. Do not look for one who reminds you of me. Trust Edmond’s judgment, for he is a very wise man and he loves you dearly. He will want you to be happy.”
Nicolas reached out for her, but Skye quickly sidestepped him. “Will you not kiss me good-bye, doucette?” he said softly.
She glanced down at the gossamer of her chemise, and then shook her head. “Not as I am now, Nicolas.” A small smile lit her eyes. “You are very wicked, mon brave, even to suggest it. Go now, and let me dress, for I shall be late if I do not hurry.”
With another deep sigh he turned and left her to dress. She knew how difficult the interview had been when her hands began to shake as she buttoned her shirt and fastened her skirt. He was such a good man, and she knew how deeply he was hurting, for in a strange way she was hurting, too.
“It’s almost time, m’lady.” When had Daisy entered the room?
“Where are the children?”
“Waiting in the anteroom to say good-bye, m’lady.” Daisy’s honest eyes grew misty. “Are you sure I can’t go with you, m’lady?”
Skye hugged her tiring woman affectionately. “I am going to miss you terribly, Daisy,” she said, “but it is much too dangerous for you to come with me. Besides, I shall need you to watch over the children until Dame Cecily arrives and you begin your return journey home.”
“I’ll worry about you the whole time you’re away, m’lady.”
“You concentrate on marrying Bran and making him a happy man,” Skye counseled, and then before Daisy could become overly emotional Skye gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried from the bedchamber into the anteroom where her children awaited her.
“I wish I could go with you,” Murrough said enthusiastically. “Algiers sounds so exciting, Mother.”
“Algiers is dangerous,” Skye replied.
“I should like to fight the infidel!” Robin said bravely.
“The infidel would be enchanted by your blond hair and your light eyes, my darling. He would geld you like a horse, and if you survived the operation you would become the plaything of some wealthy man with a taste for boys. Not exactly the fate for an Earl of Lynmouth. Stay home, my sons, so that I do not have to fret over you.”
“I far prefer to go home to England,” Willow said primly.
Skye smiled, faintly amused. “I am relieved, Willow, that you do not choose to seek adventure as your brothers do. You will be safer back in your own homes, my darlings. Murrough, I have written to both Lord Burghley and the Countess of Lincoln regarding Merton College. I am sure they will comply with my wishes.”
“Thank you, Mother!” His blue eyes shone with delight and gratitude, and Skye felt great satisfaction to have pleased this second son of hers by such a small act. Murrough stepped forward and bent to kiss her. “Take care, Mother,” he said. “This time I feel no sadness because I know that you but go to return to us.”
She hugged him hard. “Dearest Murrough,” she murmured. “I do love you, my son.”
Murrough stepped back, rosy with a mixture of pleasure caused by her words and embarrassment at her public affection. “God speed,” he said as he pulled away from her.
“Murrough is right,” Robin said. “I don’t fe
el sad either, Mother. Find Niall, and then both of you come safely home to us.” Robin put his arms about her neck and kissed her lovingly.
“Are you sure I can’t go to court while you’re away, Mama?” Willow wheedled.
Skye laughed. “No court,” she said. “You will return to Devon with Dame Cecily, and continue with your lessons. You are not accomplished enough to go to court yet:”
Willow sighed dramatically. “I don’t know why you persist in treating me like a child, Mama,” she complained.
“I would think the answer to that is obvious every time you look in the mirror,” Murrough teased.
“She spends all day before the mirror,” Robin said wickedly.
“Boys!” Willow huffed, and then she hugged her mother in farewell. “Don’t be long, Mama. I miss you so when you’re away from me.”
“I will return as fast as I can, my darling,” Skye promised her daughter, then kissed her.
The little Burke children slept with their nurse in the next room, and Skye slipped into their nursery to say a silent good-bye. They were far too young to understand her going or what it was she sought, but someday, she vowed, they would comprehend and, she hoped, bless her for what she was about to do. Her own eyes misted as she looked at them in sleep; Deirdre, so much like her, and Padraic, who grew more like his father with each passing day. She wanted him to know his father! It was for them as well as herself that she went off on what many would call a mad mission.
“They are both beautiful and peaceful as they sleep so sweetly in their innocence,” Edmond said quietly in the dimness of the room. “I would to God that you had been able to give the de Beaumonts such fine children.”
“The fates have willed it otherwise, dear friend,” she answered him.
He took her hand, and with a final glance at her babies they walked from the room. “You will let us know your position before another bride is chosen? If you can come back to us …” he trailed off.
“I will get a message to you immediately,” she said rather than argue with him.
“You won’t be back, will you?” he said.
“I keep examining the messenger’s words over and over again, Edmond,” she replied, “but they are true. Osman would not lie.”
“Satisfy my curiosity, chérie. Just who is this Osman in whom you have so much faith? Can you really trust him? Was he that good a friend?”
Skye paused a moment, wondering whether to tell him the truth. Why not? she thought. Perhaps it would help convince him. She drew a deep breath. “Edmond,” she said, “Niall Burke and I were to be married after the death and mourning of my first husband. Before our nuptials could be celebrated, however, it was necessary for me to make a trip to Algiers. My trading company wished to do business with the Dey, and when he heard that the head of the O’Malleys was a woman he insisted upon seeing me. He had given us a pendant to put atop our mast that would guarantee us safe conduct through Barbary waters, but the pendant was lost in a storm and we found ourselves in a fight with pirates. We won, but I was taken from my flagship and Niall was shot as he attempted to rescue me. I believed him dead, and lost my memory as a consequence. Khalid el Bey, known as the Great Whoremaster of Algiers, bought me as a slave. He intended to train me for his finest brothel, the House of Felicity. Instead, he fell in love with me and married me.
“When Khalid was murdered in a plot concocted by his evil friend, Capitan Jamil of the Casbah fortress, I was forced to flee Algiers. Jamil coveted me, and had decided to have both me and my lord Khalid’s wealth. I was pregnant with Willow at the time, but it didn’t slow me down, Edmond. With the help of Osman, who had been my husband’s dearest friend, I converted Khalid’s holdings into gold and fled Algiers with my personal servants via Robbie’s ship several days before my period of mourning was to end.
“Now do you understand why I trust Osman? If he calls me then I must go, Edmond. If he says that Niall is alive then he is, and I will find him! I must do this not only for myself, but for Deirdre and Padraic as well. They have a right to their father, and I have a right to my husband.”
“My God!” Edmond ejaculated. “You are amazing! You are more than amazing! You are formidable!” He stopped and, moving in front of her, took her two hands in his tiny ones. “What you have told me, chérie, will remain between us. I see now why you trust this Osman, and …” he sighed sadly, “I understand now that you will not be back.”
“Find Nicolas someone quickly, Edmond. Do not let him mourn me until I become so idealized in his memory that no other woman could possibly satisfy him. Find him someone who will understand and be patient with his pain. Someone who will see what a fine man he is, and be willing to wait for him to heal. My instinct tells me it should be a young girl, not necessarily an heiress, or even an eldest daughter, but a girl who would be pleased for such a plum as the Duc de Beaumont de Jaspre to fall into her lap. Find him someone who will love him, Edmond.”
“Yes,” was the resigned reply, “I will find someone who will love him, and eventually with God’s good luck he will love her, too. Poor girl, I do not envy her her lot, for it will be a difficult one. Nicolas will not be easy to placate.”
They continued down into the lovely courtyard of the castle. Skye had decided to leave at twilight when Villerose’s streets would be fairly empty. No announcement had been made of Skye’s departure, and would not be until she was long gone. It would be most difficult to explain to the people, but explain they would have to eventually. Skye suggested to Edmond as they entered the courtyard that they wait as long as possible in order to protect Beaumont de Jaspre from the French, and give him an opportunity to look over the possible candidates for Nicolas’s hand.
“With my children here it is unlikely that anyone will notice me gone for a good week. The servants, of course, must be told to keep silent.”
Daisy was waiting with her mistress’s cloak, and she wrapped it around Skye, pulling the hood up to disguise her lady from prying eyes. With trembling fingers Daisy fastened the heavy gold frog fasteners, and then stepped back. Her eyes were teary, and Skye gave her a quick hug, chiding, “None of that, Daisy. I’ll be back before you know it!”
“God s-speed, m’lady!” came the quavering reply, and then Daisy turned and fled back into the castle.
Skye watched her go, and then said, “Poor Daisy. We have never been parted since she came into my service. She even went into the Tower with me. Watch over her, Edmond, and see that she and the children get safely off at the proper time.”
He nodded, and then Skye saw Robbie and Nicolas coming toward her. The young duc had dressed himself in his finest clothes, and the dark green velvet was very flattering to his rich chestnut hair and his forest green eyes. About his neck was the heavy gold chain of Beaumont, its lion pendant lying on his chest.
“How handsome you are,” she said sincerely as he stopped in front of her.
“How beautiful you are,” he answered, looking down into her face, and Skye’s heart contracted painfully. His hand gently pushed back her hood so he might have a last look at her, and then he bent his head and briefly and tenderly brushed her half-parted lips with his own. For a long, heart-stopping moment their eyes met, and then he gently drew the hood back up over her head. “Au revoir, mon coeur,” he said, and then turned and walked from the courtyard into the castle, never once looking back at her.
“Go with him!” Skye begged Edmond.
“Aye,” Edmond said, and catching her hand up kissed it fervently. “God speed, chérie,” he murmured, and then he too was gone after his young uncle.
A silent servant helped Skye to mount her white palfrey while another aided Robbie. Then together they trotted their horses from the flowered courtyard and across the drawbridge. As they went Skye said in a sad, resigned voice, “I have been here just over one year, Robbie. How macabre! Where will I be a year from now, do you think? Will Niall and I be safely home in Ireland?”
“Lord bless me, lass, who knows
?!” He wasn’t going to let her feel sorry for herself, and he could see the terrible emotional toll her farewell from Nicolas had taken. “One thing I can promise you, Skye. Wherever you are a year from now it will not have been a dull year, for you’ve never been a dull woman. By God! I do enjoy trying to keep up with you, my lass! ’Twill be one of two things for me: either I’ll never grow old following after you, Skye O’Malley; or I’ll be old before my time!” He chuckled. “I can just see Cecily’s face when she gets here and finds us gone. She’s always said I make a fuss over nothing when it comes to your constant adventures, Skye lass. Now she’ll see,” he chortled wickedly. “Now she’ll see!”
Part 3
NORTH AFRICA
Chapter 7
ALGIERS shimmered in the midday heat. The sun glared off the deep-blue waters of the harbor and reflected back onto the white, white buildings of the city. Skye’s ship, Seagull, was anchored a short distance out in the harbor. Robbie had no intention of allowing Skye ashore until he had made absolutely certain that Jamil was not in the city.
“You’re an old woman,” she teased him as he climbed down the side of the ship into the small dinghy that would take him into the docks.
“Ye’re damned right, I am!” he shot back, not one bit intimidated. “Do you want to spend the rest of your days in slavery to Jamil, lass?”
“I’d sooner be dead!”
“Then I’ll just be on my way to find Osman,” Robbie said with a chuckle. “Besides, ye’re getting too old to be running around in diaphanous trousers and beaded tops.”
“Too old?!” She looked outraged. “I’m not yet—”
All the Sweet Tomorrows Page 27