Skye O'Malley

by Bertrice Small

  Skye thanked the surgeon, paid his fee, and sent him away. Then she took on the O’Flahertys. Gilly blustered at her. “Claire says you’re responsible for my son’s condition.”

  “Your son is responsible for his own condition,” replied Skye coldly. “Last night after the meal was finished and I had seen to my household duties, I went to your daughter’s rooms to speak to her about arranging a marriage. I found her and your precious son fucking merrily! And it was not the first time they had engaged in this … incest! When I tried to flee from them they ripped my clothes from me, and used me vilely! Both of them! I tried to escape again and Dom lunged at me. When I stepped aside he fell through the open door and down the stairs. I’m only sorry he didn’t break his damned neck! It would have saved me the trouble of caring for him. If you still believe that I have wronged your son, Gilly, then we will take our case and place it before the MacWilliam.”

  “Yes!” sobbed Claire. “For once in your life, Father, take the initiative! Dom will spend the rest of his life half a man because of her! She deserves to be punished!”

  Skye drew herself up proudly and looked down upon the vengeful Claire. “Yes, Claire,” she purred. “Take your case to the MacWilliam. Do! And then be prepared either to prove your virginity before the midwives’ panel or name your lover! Who will you say it is, Claire? One of the serfs? I think not. You’re far too proud a bitch to admit to fucking with a serf. Who then? There is no one else! No one ever comes to visit you. No one! Perhaps you could claim the Devil for your lover. In a sense, you’d be speaking the truth.”

  Skye’s father-in-law looked suddenly old, and defeated. Claire wept helplessly. Skye’s next words held a finality. “I am going home to Innisfana,” she announced. “And I am taking my sons with me. I will not be back. Since Claire loves her brother so deeply she will remain here to care for him for the rest of his life. I will see that Da withdraws her dowry. She has no chance of a decent marriage without it, and I would not, knowing what I do now, see her wed with some poor unsuspecting lad. She will be fed and clothed at my expense, or she may go with what she has. The choice is hers.

  “Frang the bailiff will run the estate for me, and answer to me alone. This is, after all, to be Ewan’s inheritance someday and I want it turned over to him in good condition.

  “Gilly, you will be taken care of, but my father’s lawyers will shortly have a paper for you to sign that will prevent you from gambling away any part of the estate. Mark me well, Gilly. I will not pay for your wines, your women, or your gambling debts!”

  “Father! Are you going to let her do this to us!?”

  Gilly stared straight ahead and Skye smiled triumphantly. “Yes, Claire, he is! He knows the alternative. I will bring my case before the MacWilliam—and before the Church! If I do I will accuse you not only of incest with your brother, but of witchcraft as well! You deserve to burn for what you’ve been doing!”

  “I love him!” Claire screamed.

  “You were his sister!”

  “I loved him,” Claire repeated, “From the time we first bedded when I was but a maid of eleven. I was the only woman who ever really satisfied Dom.”

  Skye looked pityingly at Claire. “In the years that Dom has left we will see how much you really love him.”

  In the morning Skye bid her husband an unemotional farewell. “I hope you enjoyed what you and your sister did the other night, for the memory of it will have to last you a lifetime!”

  “Bitch!” he snarled at her. “What kind of a woman are you to leave me?”

  “A better woman than you ever knew or appreciated, Dom. Your conduct with your sister has wiped free any obligation on my part toward you. Farewell.”

  He struggled to rise. “Bitch! Come back! I command you, Skye! Come back!”

  She never turned back. His voice, alternating between curses, threats, and pleas, followed her until the sound became quite unintelligible and finally faded altogether.

  Skye rode away from the O’Flaherty house, Ewan before her on her saddle. Behind her were the carts carrying her younger son, the two nurses, and her household goods.

  But when Skye reached Innisfana several days later there was no peaceful haven there. Dubhdara O’Malley lay dying, having been badly injured by a falling mast in a storm as he was bringing his ship home. A stubborn man, he had refused to die until he reached his home, and until he had seen his youngest daughter. The messenger he sent to Skye had found her as she took ship for Innisfana Island.

  She was barely in time to bid her father a final farewell. Tearful, she kissed his cold and sweating brow. “I’m back for good, Da.”

  He nodded. Explanations were unimportant now. “Your brothers are too young for the ships yet,” he gasped weakly. “You’ve got to take charge for me.”

  It never crossed her mind that he was thrusting a huge responsibility upon her. She answered simply, “I will.”

  “You’re the best of them, lassie. Even the boys.”

  “Oh, Da,” she whispered. “Oh, Da, I do love you!”

  “Skye, lass, this time follow your heart,” were Dubhdara O’Malley’s last words to his favorite child. He died a few minutes later, holding her hand.

  Her beautiful blue eyes overflowing, she looked wordlessly to her uncle Seamus. “I heard him,” he said, “and I’ll uphold your rights, Skye. You’re the new O’Malley, and may God be with you for you’ll be needing all the help you can get.”

  Skye looked to her stepmother. “I heard him, and I trust you,” said Anne. “You’ll do right by us all. Besides, it’s your full brother Michael who is the next male in line, not my lads.”

  “In this family,” answered Skye, “it’s not necessarily the eldest, but the most competent. At least two of your boys show more promise than Michael. He’s most like my mother, lord help him. He’s more likely to follow Our Lord Christ than the sea. Am I not right, Uncle?”

  Seamus O’Malley nodded. “He’d asked me to talk with Dubh. He wants to enter St. Padraic’s and become a priest.”

  Skye turned to Anne. “You see. It rests with Brian and Shane now.”

  As quickly as the family of the O’Malley chief could be assembled, they determined the length of the wake and the date of the funeral. With Seamus O’Malley and Anne to back her, Skye was reluctantly recognized as the new O’Malley by her brothers-in-law and her very shocked sisters. Her clansmen and vassals came quickly, almost joyfully, to pay their homage to Skye, the new O’Malley.

  The next step was a journey to the MacWilliam’s stronghold to pledge him her fealty. Only Anne, Eibhlin, and her uncle knew the truth behind her leaving her husband. All three were horrified, but swore to keep the secret. Seamus O’Malley added to his niece’s mystique by claiming that she had returned home because of a dream in which her father called her from over the waves. The men who had sailed with her father and with her when she was a child circulated once again the old tales of her bravery and skill. The MacWilliam would have been hard pressed indeed to deny Skye her inheritance.

  She rode into his stronghold with all her captains escorting her. Niall Burke watched her arrival from one of the towers of the castle, and wondered what would happen between them now. She rode astride, as she had in the old days, and upon the black stallion, Finn. She was dressed in Lincoln green hose, over which she wore high brown cordoba leather boots, and a mid-thigh-length doeskin jerkin with silver buttons. Beneath the jerkin was a cream-colored silk shirt with small pearl buttons. Her glorious blue-black hair was parted in the center and twisted into a smooth coil at the nape of her neck. Her gardenia skin was a little flushed. Upon her left hand he could see a blue flash, and knew she wore the great sapphire ring that had been her father’s seal of office.

  He descended from the tower, and strode swiftly to his own quarters. To his surprise Darragh was waiting for him. The three years of their marriage had been a bad joke, and he rarely saw her, let alone cohabited with her. It was obvious that she would never conceive him a
child. She had never come to him willingly, and each time he had taken her it had been a battle in which she yielded to the flesh and then did penance for her weakness. She had had coarse brown robes made up for herself, robes that resembled those worn by her old religious order. She rarely bathed, believing it a concession to the flesh. For over a year now she had spent her days and nights in constant prayer. He no longer went near her. Her personal habits disgusted him, and attempting to claim his rights seemed now like raping a nun, a thing for which Niall Burke had no taste.

  He greeted her courteously, and she replied, “Lady O’Flaherty is here to see your father, Niall. Why has she come?”

  “Her father has died, Darragh, and it was his deathbed wish that she take over his duties until her brothers are grown. She is now the O’Malley, and she has come to pledge her fealty to her overlord.”

  “And what of her husband? I have been given to understand that she tried to murder him and then left him, taking his sons with her. He lies paralyzed for life with only his loyal sister to care for him.”

  “Where did you obtain this information, Darragh?” He kept his voice quiet and level.

  “I have a letter from the unfortunate Lady Claire O’Flaherty begging me to intercede with the MacWilliam on her poor brother’s behalf.”

  “I do not believe the tale, Darragh. I have never known Skye to be anything but generous and thoughtful.”

  “Those are not the qualities that made the O’Malley leave her in charge of his small empire,” noted Darragh shrewdly. It was an unusually sensible observation for Darragh.

  “Skye would never harm anyone. I refuse to believe it!”

  “Of course you do not believe it. You lust after her, but for the sake of your immortal soul you must not yield to her wiles, Niall!”

  He laughed bitterly. “Whose wiles would you have me yield to then, wife? Yours? Let me tell you something about Skye O’Malley, my dear. The last time I saw her she told me she never wanted to set eyes on me again because, through an awful quirk of fate, we were wed to other people. I then said I would kill her husband. She chided me, asking what I would do with my own wife, kill her also? She said you had been as wronged as the rest of us were, and we must all make the best of our situations. She would tempt neither herself nor me by seeing me again.”

  “Ah! The most wicked ones are always the most clever, Niall! She has skillfully misled you into believing her virtuous. Beware of her! Beware!” And with a strange look in her weak blue eyes, Darragh turned and left him.

  Niall went about the business of changing his clothes. His father had told him he wanted him there when the O’Malley swore her fealty, for she must swear it not only to the MacWilliam, but also to his heir. He debated whether to be elegant or simple, finally settling on black velvet because it was both.

  Entering the main hall of the castle, he was surprised to find that Skye had not changed from her riding clothes. Her captains at her back, she knelt. Placing her hands in the old and gnarled ones of the MacWilliam, and then into Niall’s warm firm grasp, she twice swore her loyalty to the Burkes, then rose gracefully to accept their kiss of peace. Lord Burke noted the pride and love flowing from the eyes of the rough-looking O’Malley captains. That they adored her was obvious, and he was reassured to know that she would sail with such devoted men.

  Then suddenly, to everyone’s shock and embarrassment, Darragh appeared in their midst, her nun’s robes swirling about her, and cried out, “My lord the MacWilliam, on behalf of the O’Flahertys of Ballyhennessey I cry for judgment against this evil woman! Oh, wicked whore of Babylon, your days of evil are numbered! The Lord God will strike thee down with fire and the sword!”

  Skye looked swiftly to Niall, her eyes filled with pity.

  “Clear the hall, dammit!” shouted the MacWilliam, red-faced and very angry. When all but the four of them had gone, the old man turned on Darragh. “I hope, madam, that you have a bloody fine explanation for this intrusion, and for your unwanted charges!”

  “No longer ‘madam,’ sir, but Sister Mary Penitent. That was to have been my name before you stole me from my convent, and forced me into carnal bondage with your son. It will soon be my name again, for I will no longer remain here, but return to St. Mary’s. Before I go, however, I will right a great wrong done by this wicked woman. First, she deliberately crippled her husband. Then she willfully deserted him, stealing both his sons and his money. She must be punished! God demands it!”

  “What the hell nonsense is this?” roared the MacWilliam.

  “She claims to have a letter from Claire O’Flaherty,” said Niall quietly to his father.

  “The lying, deceitful bitch!” said Skye furiously, and the MacWilliam and his son grinned at each other.

  “All right, O’Malley, what’s your explanation?” demanded the old man.

  Skye glanced scornfully at Darragh. “Is she strong enough to hear the truth of this? It’s not very pretty.”

  “Speak, O’Malley,” commanded the MacWilliam.

  “Claire O’Flaherty lies, my lord. I caught her and her brother, my husband, in incest.” Skye outlined the story, concluding, “When I dodged him, he fell down a flight of stairs.”

  Darragh Burke, who had turned white at the mention of the word “incest,” gave a moan of horror and fell to the floor in a faint. The MacWilliam and his son glanced briefly at her, then returned their attentions to Skye.

  “The surgeon said Dom will never walk again. Under the circumstances, I feel no obligation to him. The estate was in a ruinous condition when I married Dom. Your annual tributes had not been paid in three years, but it is all paid up now, thanks to me. The O’Flaherty lands are again prosperous because of my skillful management. This, despite Dom’s having gambled and whored away my dowry. Claire O’Flaherty owes me for every mouthful of food she consumes, every drop she drinks, the very clothes on her back. She might have been safely wed, but for her own crimes. It was her choice to remain at Ballyhennessey and commit incest with her brother rather than wed her own man. When Dom was injured I told her she could stay and nurse him or go, as she pleased.” Skye looked hard at the MacWilliam. “If you feel her charges have merit, my lord, I will abide by your decision.”

  The old man reached out and gently stroked Skye’s beautiful hair. “There is no merit in her charges, O’Malley,” he said gruffly. “If she will not accept my decision in this matter, then I shall turn her over to the Church. They will deal with the wench far more harshly than you or I would.” He smiled at Skye. “Now, lass, will you accept my hospitality for a few days’ time? You’ve come through a hard time and you’ve great responsibility ahead of you.”

  She smiled back at him, and he thought again how extraordinarily beautiful she was. For the briefest moment he regretted his age and his infirmities. He envied his son this beautiful woman who would undoubtedly become his mistress.

  “I will accept your kindness, my lord, but only for a day. You’re right in that I am now laden with responsibilities. My father’s entire fleet stands awaiting my orders, and they must remain idle until I have studied his books. My eldest brother prefers the Church to the sea, and though I will train him in my father’s ways, for boys are known to be fickle creatures with changeable minds, I doubt that Michael will change. Therefore it will be my half-brother, Brian, who’s most likely to become the next O’Malley. He is but six now. It will be at least ten years before he can take over his duties. Then, too, there are my own two sons to raise.”

  “Stop, lassie!” said the MacWilliam. “You’re exhausting me. It’s too much for a woman to take on, and I wonder at your father, God assoil him.”

  Skye looked at the old man proudly. “My father knew I would not fail him. He might have chosen any of my sister’s husbands, or even my uncle Seamus, but he chose me. I am the O’Malley!” Then her look softened, and her eyes, which had been a deep purple-blue, lightened to a clear blue-green. “Tonight, however, I shall be just Skye O’Malley, and your most gr
ateful guest.” She turned without another word and walked from the room.

  The MacWilliam bellowed for a servant, who quickly removed the still unconscious Darragh. “If you mean to have the O’Malley lass,” he said to Niall, “you had best tame her quickly, my son. This is no milk-and-water wench, but a full-blown woman. Once she gets the bit of power into her teeth, you’ll not easily get a bridle on her. I’ll see if I can start annulment proceedings on your marriage, for the O’Neill girl belongs back in her convent. As to O’Flaherty, the health of a cripple is precarious at best. I trust you’re not too noble to object if we assist him now to a better life … discreetly, of course.”

  Niall shook his head without hesitation. “May I speak to Skye of marriage?”

  The old man grinned wickedly. “If ’twill aid you in your wooing, yes, and I imagine you’ll need all the help you can get. She’s a strong-minded woman.”

  Niall grinned back as he strode from the hall and headed for Skye’s chambers. His heart was singing. She was his! They would finally be together, and they would make marvelous love, and she would bear him strong sons and beautiful daughters, and they would be happy. He burst into her room, startling Mag, and a half-clothed Skye.

  “My father’s starting the annulment proceedings, my love. We can soon be wed!”

  He reached out for her, but she eluded him. “Mag! Get out! I’ll call you.” Then, “Don’t touch me, Niall! I cannot bear to be touched. I told you what they did to me. I never want to be touched again! I am happy you’re to be free of Darragh O’Neill; but find yourself another wife, my lord. My husband lives, and even if he did not, I would not remarry. I will never again put myself at a man’s mercy.” She shuddered deeply.

  He was stunned. This was not the girl he had known. “Skye, my love,” he began gently, “I know they have hurt you; but I never hurt you. Remember how it was with us? It was sweetness beyond measure. Come, love,” and he held out his hand to her, “come let me love you, and wipe away the unhappy memories.”