The next day, however, Skye had a happy surprise. Robert Small had returned from his long voyage. Stopping at Wren Court only long enough to assure Dame Cecily of his safety, he came directly to Lynmouth. From her favorite retreat high upon the open battlements, she recognized his dearly familiar form upon his little bay gelding. Gathering up her skirts, Skye flew from the top of the castle down the winding flights of stairs out into the courtyard and onto the drawbridge.
“Robbie! Oh, Robbie! You’re safe! And you’re home!” She was laughing with joy, sobbing with relief, and overwhelmingly glad to see her small protector. Everything was always all right when Robbie was home to look after her.
The gelding stopped, and the little man slipped from its back to gather the beautiful woman into his arms. They hugged each other in full view of the entire castle, and then Robert Small kissed her soundly on both cheeks. “How is it possible that you’ve grown prettier, my lass?”
“Oh, Robbie, your tongue is so smooth that I sometimes think you’re Irish.”
He chuckled, and slipped his arm through hers. “I find that I have an Irish thirst right now. Will you take me into your fine house, and offer me a bit of wine to clear the Devon dust from my throat?”
She laughed. It was a clear and happy sound, one she had not made since she had lost Geoffrey and their younger son. Leading Robbie to the Great Hall, she sat him down and brought him the wine herself. He took a deep draught and then said quietly, “I was sorry to learn about Geoffrey, and the child.”
“Who told you? De Grenville?”
“Yes. He met me in Bideford. Damn, Skye, sorry is … hardly a good enough way to—”
“Say nothing, Robbie. We’re friends. I know what is in your heart.”
“The Queen’s confirmed your son as heir?”
Skye looked hard at her old friend. “Yes, but she’s overridden Geoffrey’s will and made Robert Dudley my son’s guardian.”
The sea captain frowned, beginning to understand that trouble was in the air. “From your tone, Skye, I think I am home just in time. Must I again rescue the poor widow?”
“I think this time I must rescue myself, Robbie.” She stood and began to pace while she explained. “Geoffrey and I left Court after Robin was born, and retired here to Devon. My uncle sent my Irish sons to us, and we were a happy family—my sons, his daughters, and our two boys. Then Geoffrey died, and Johnny. The Queen was quick to recognize Robin as Geoffrey’s legitimate successor, but she sent the Earl of Leicester as his guardian. It is my supreme misfortune that Robert Dudley covets me.”
“Why, the damned lecher,” cried Robbie. “Is not Bess enough woman for him?”
“The Queen has most certainly not yielded her person, Robbie. She wants him, I believe, but dares not compromise herself. Still, she dotes on him and spoils him fearfully. She will hear not a word against him. How can I dare tell her that he has forced me, and will continue to do so as long as he can use my son to control me?”
“The bastard!” said Robert Small fiercely. “You mean that he’s already—?”
“Aye, Robbie. He’s already.” Then she said grimly, “But I may yet outsmart Lord Dudley. Geoffrey and I had spoken of betrothing Robin to de Grenville’s littlest daughter, Alison. If I can gain the Queen’s permission to this match, then I shall ask that de Grenville be made Robin’s governor. I have written to Her Majesty about this, but it will be weeks before she replies.”
“Then go up to London and obtain her permission during a personal audience.”
“What?”
“Go up to London, lass! I will go with you. I must anyway in order to report the success of our mission to the Queen. It is our trading company that made the voyage, and what would be more natural than that we both report to Elizabeth?”
“Successful? We were successful! How successful? Lord bless me, Robbie, it should have been my first thought!”
He laughed. “Nay, love, you’ve had other troubles. But now I’ll make those troubles disappear! Not a ship lost, Skye! Not one! D’you know the odds against that? Five men though, in a bad storm in the Indian Ocean. Other than that, we might have been sailing in a millpond. I’ve never encountered such good weather. The holds of all the ships are crammed to overflowing with spices. I’ve a fortune in rare jewels. And, as an extra bonus, m’dear, when we stopped to take on water at a small African port I obtained us a fine cargo of ivory! If you hadn’t been a rich woman before, Skye, you are now! And the Queen’s coffers will not suffer by this, either.”
Her blue eyes sparkled with delight. “Can you be ready to leave tomorrow, Robbie?”
“Aye, lass, I can. Give me a good hot dinner and an unbroken night’s rest, and I’ll be ready.”
Suddenly the door to the room burst open and Willow ran in, followed by a small blond boy. “Uncle Robbie! Uncle Robbie!” She launched herself straight at him.
Robert Small caught her up, his weathered face split in a wide grin. “Willow, lass! Can it truly be you? Why, you’re half grown!” He kissed her soundly on both cheeks, then put her down.
Willow flushed with pleasure, then smoothed her gown. “I am now seven,” she said importantly.
“Are you indeed? How proud your father would have been of you. You have the look of him.” His air of being impressed was just what the child wanted. “Now tell me, lass, who is this wee lad?”
Willow drew the boy out, and said gravely, “May I present my brother, Robin, sir. He is the Earl of Lynmouth.”
Robert Small made an elegant leg to the child. “M’lord, I am honored to make your acquaintance. I knew your late father, may God assoil him, and I respected him greatly.”
The boy looked up shyly, and the little captain was struck dumb. The boy was his father’s image. Seeing Geoffrey Southwood looking at him through this small boy’s eyes was very disconcerting. “May I call you Uncle Robbie too?” came the shy question.
“Indeed you may, laddie!” Robert Small lifted the delighted boy up onto his shoulders. “Willow! You and Robin come with me and I’ll show you the presents I’ve in my saddlebags for you.”
Skye smiled, glad to see her children happy again. It had been so solemn at Lynmouth for so long. She walked from the Great Hall out into the castle gardens that ran along the cliff tops. At the garden’s end she passed through the gates into the Southwood family cemetery, and made her way to Geoffrey’s tomb. She had plucked a single white rose on her way through the gardens, and now she lay it on Geoffrey’s grave.
“Robbie is back, Geoffrey,” she said, “and the voyage was a wonderful success. I’m putting your percentage into Robin’s coffers, my darling, and I shall go up to London myself to speak to the Queen. I must rid myself of Dudley! ’Tis not just his lust that frightens me, but his greed. The man is too ambitious, Geoffrey. Oh, my darling, I need you so very much! Why did you have to leave me?”
Then she sighed deeply. This simply had to stop. She had gotten in the habit of coming to Geoffrey’s grave every day, and speaking to him as if he were actually there. It gave her a strange comfort. Immediately following his death she had believed she felt his presence near her. But that feeling was gone now.
“It’s because you really are gone from me now, isn’t it, my love?” she whispered sadly.
A gentle sea wind teased at her hair. She felt the unbidden tears suddenly slipping down her cheeks, and for the first time since his death she cried without forcing herself to stop. There was no one to see or hear her, and she did not need to be brave for the children’s sake.
It was there that Robert Small found her. Wordlessly he gathered her into his arms and offered his silent sympathy. He said nothing, for there was nothing he could say. But his very presence, familiar and loving, gave her comfort. As her sobs finally lessened he sought for and found a reasonably clean silken square in his doublet and offered it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Better?” he asked.
“Thank you. I cried when he died, but only for a moment, fo
r the children were all there, and they were frightened, and my wailing would have only made it worse for them. There hasn’t been much time for mourning since then.”
“Until today.”
She nodded. “I suddenly realized that he is actually gone. I am really alone again, Robbie.”
“You’ll remarry one day, Skye.”
“Not this time, Robbie. I’ve buried two men whom I loved greatly, and I’ll not go through that again.”
“Then you will have to take a powerful lover, m’dear. You’ve already seen that a beautiful widow is the prey of blooded rakes.”
“Never! I intend to rid myself of Lord Dudley and then return to Devon to live until Robin is of age. He and Willow are my chief concerns. And Robbie—should anything happen to me, I have arranged that you and Dame Cecily be my daughter’s guardians. I knew that would be all right with you.”
“What is it you’re planning, Skye? I can almost see the little wheels turning in your pretty head.”
She smiled softly. “Nothing, yet, Robbie. First I must go to London. Time enough afterward to decide my fate.”
The following morning, Skye and Robbie departed from Lynmouth and headed northeast to London. A messenger had ridden on ahead of them to see that Lynmouth House was ready to receive its mistress, and to take word to the Queen that Sir Robert Small had returned to England and sought an immediate audience with Elizabeth, in company with the Countess of Lynmouth. They reached London safely several days later. Upon entering her house, Skye found to her fury that the Earl of Leicester waited for her.
“Your impetuousness in following me to London delights me, my sweet Skye,” he teased, kissing her hand.
She snatched her hand from his grasp. Skye had a headache from riding in a closed coach on a warm day, the dust from the road having necessitated the closing of the windows. She glared stonily at Dudley while, below, her Robert Small was hard put not to howl his laughter at the look of surprise on Dudley’s face when she said to him, “Go to Hell, m’lord!” Pushing past him, she stamped up the stairs to seek the comfort of her own apartment.
Foolishly he followed along next to her. “I hadn’t expected the pleasure of your company for several more weeks, my sweet Skye,” he murmured in what he believed was a seductive voice. “I must dance attendance on Bess at Whitehall until well past midnight, but afterward my sweet Skye …” he breathed.
Skye stopped in midstep and whirled about. “There will be no afterward, my lord Dudley! My head aches! My monthly courses are upon me! I have spent three days being bumped to bits in a coach and three nights avoiding drunks and bedbugs in noisy inns. I am tired. I intend going to bed. Alone! Now get the hell out of my house!” And she continued on her way upstairs. The next sound was the mighty slamming of her chamber door.
Openmouthed, the Earl of Leicester could only stare after the Countess of Lynmouth. Below him, Robert Small chuckled softly, then drawled, “She’s a bit testy from the trip, my lord. But then, having once had a wife yourself, you’ll understand that.”
Dudley stared at the little captain for a moment then slowly descended the stairs and said menacingly, “Don’t try to interfere, Captain. I have already laid my claim to the lady.”
Robbie felt cold anger begin burning within him. “The decision is with the lady, my lord. Remember that, lest I should have to remind you of it.”
Dudley moved toward the door, then turned. “Bess and Cecil will see you tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. Think not to undermine me with the Queen. You cannot.” Then, after a brief bow, Dudley left.
Arrogant bastard, thought Robbie savagely. Skye was right. She would best be rid of him, and quickly. He was no fit guardian for Robin, and he’d drive her to something rash if he continued to harass her. She’d not take it much longer.
The following morning as they were ushered into William Cecil’s closet Robbie thought he detected the light of battle in Skye’s bearing. The black of mourning became her, adding to her warrior’s appearance. They greeted Cecil, and then Robbie sketched out the success of his voyage to the Queen’s chief advisor. Cecil nodded, listening, then said, “Your report is most encouraging, Sir Robert. Both Her Majesty and I agree that England’s future prosperity lies in trade. Your success indicates the wisdom of that belief.”
“Will it be possible to see the Queen, sir?” asked Robbie. “I have a small token to present to her, and I know that my lady Southwood would speak privately with her regarding the future of her son, the little Earl.”
“The match with de Grenville’s daughter? I have advised Her Majesty to permit the betrothal, Lady Southwood. It is a good one and in the best interests of both families.”
“Thank you, my lord. But there is one other thing I must speak with Her Majesty about.”
“My dear,” said Cecil in a kindly fashion. “If you would accept a bit of advice from an old man who knows the Queen well—don’t. Elizabeth Tudor, like her father before her, is blind in both eyes when it comes to those she loves.”
“I must try, sir,” persisted Skye.
William Cecil smiled ruefully. The Countess of Lynmouth was a strong and stubborn woman. But then, so was the Queen. Seeing these two lock horns should prove interesting if not actually explosive. “I will call Her Majesty now,” he said, resigned.
Elizabeth Tudor entered the room a few moments later. She was expecting the French ambassador that morning, and was dressed in a magnificent cloth-of-gold gown adorned with ropes of pearls. She was, if possible, growing more regal with every passing day. “My dear Skye,” she held out her hands in greeting, “how good it is to see you again.” She turned. “Sir Robert! Cecil tells me your voyage was successful. We are very pleased!”
“It was quite profitable, madam, and I have brought you a small token of my crews’ affections for their beloved Queen.” He lifted a beautiful cedarwood casket and held it out to her. “Every piece there is a part share belonging to every man. Each man gave voluntarily and with love, a piece of the fruits of his labor.”
The Queen accepted the small chest and placed it on the table. She opened it slowly and her eyes widened appreciatively at the riches within. There were Indian Ocean pearls in every shade of white, cream, pink, gold, and black. She fingered flashing Burmese rubies, sparkling Ceylon sapphires so like dear Skye’s marvelous eyes, cold and fiery Golconda diamonds. There were also several silk bags filled with precious spices—fat nutmegs, long smooth sticks of cinnamon, pods of vanilla beans, tiny, sharp cloves, and round black peppercorns.
The Queen beamed at the captain delightedly. “Robert Small, your men could not have given me a lovelier gift. You’ll thank them for me, and tell them this: the Queen says that as long as England has such brave sons, she will be invincible. Now, gentlemen, you will leave us so that dear Skye and I may visit. I want to learn all about my wee godson’s progress.”
The two men bowed from the room. There was a long silence after they had gone. The Queen spoke first. “Cecil has persuaded me that the match you propose between little Robin and Alison de Grenville is a suitable one. We have therefore given our permission, dear Skye.”
“Your Majesty is most kind. But I would beg a further boon.”
Elizabeth inclined her head.
“Since Your Majesty has approved this match, would you not also relieve Lord Dudley of his guardianship of my son, and appoint Dickon de Grenville in his place? Under the circumstances ’twould be more natural, and certainly more convenient for de Grenville than for my lord Dudley.”
“Dudley remains my choice,” said Elizabeth firmly.
The tone of the Queen’s voice irritated Skye. Why was she interfering this way? “May I remind Your Majesty,” she said sharply, “that my late husband made me sole guardian over our children, an arrangement Your Majesty chose to overrule though I could never see the sense of it.”
“Only in the case of my godson, madam,” retorted the Queen. “The child needs a man’s influence in his life. I have provided hi
m with the best man in England for that influence.”
“Robin has de Grenville and Robbie as well as his halfbrothers for male influence, Majesty,” argued Skye.
“Dudley is proud to have the care of little Robin Southwood. He has told me so himself, my dear Skye,” the Queen argued back.
“I do not wish Robin to be under the influence of anyone from Court, madam. Not now. He is far too young. I am his mother, and that decision is my right.”
“No, my lady Southwood,” the Queen replied icily. “Robin’s fate is my decision as his Queen! Lord Dudley will remain his governor.”
Skye finally lost her fine Irish temper. “Dammit, madam! Don’t you really know why Dudley wants charge of my son?”
“Yes, my dear Skye, I do,” said Elizabeth Tudor.
Shocked, the Countess of Lynmouth looked deeply into the Queen’s jet-black eyes. What she saw there made her shiver. “My God,” she said softly. “You do know! Oh, madam, how could you? How could you give me to that man? My husband and I were always your loyal servants. Is this how you reward our loyalty?”
The Queen looked angrily at Skye. “Madam, you try my patience, but because I value you I shall explain. Repeat what I tell you, however, and I shall deny it while you languish in the Tower. I shall never marry, my dear Skye, for if I did I should be neither a Queen nor a woman in my own right. I have seen how men can overrule women. As long as England has only a Queen to rule her, that shall not happen to me.
“My half-sister, Mary, never fully recovered from what my father did to her, and to her unfortunate mother, Catherine of Aragon. Their lives were ruined by my father. Poor Mary! He had cosseted and spoiled her from birth, then suddenly one day all that love was withdrawn and she was torn from her own mother, whom she never saw again, and declared a bastard.
Skye O'Malley Page 49