Lost Love Found (68 page)

The cook, sweating from the hot kitchen and beaming with triumph at having produced a respectable feast on little notice, led the servants in from the kitchen herself carrying an enormous silver charger upon which rested a side of beef. Behind her, servants bore platters and plates and bowls filled with delicacies. There were roasted capons and ducks with a sauce of cherries. There were pigeon and rabbit pies and thin slices of salmon poached in wine. There was a small ham and a platter of lamb chops. There were bowls of hard-boiled eggs, green peas, carrots, and braised lettuce. The breads were still hot from the oven and the sweet butter, the wildflower honey, and the cheeses were perfection.

“If I’d had a bit more notice, m’lady,” the cook apologized, “there would be more variety, but ’tis Christmas Day and the markets all be closed.” She bobbed a curtsy.

“It all looks delicious, Mrs. Evans,” Valentina told her, noting that the men were already heaping their plates with the kinds of food they hadn’t seen in months. “Thank you.”

They ate until they thought they could eat no more, stuffing themselves with the meats, the breads, and the cheeses.

Then Mrs. Evans appeared with a Christmas pudding, and they found there was room for that traditional, tasty sweet. They did not drink wine, favoring instead the brown October ale that everyone had missed so very much. When they had finished, they sat back in their chairs, replete with satisfaction and grateful to be home.

Carollers coming to Greenwood’s door were invited in to receive cakes and ale and a silver penny apiece. They sang their Christmas songs, then went away happy, praising the bounty of Greenwood’s inhabitants.

“Well, I’m off to bed,” Murrough said. “Tomorrow Geoff and I are for home. I’ve missed my Joan, and ’twill be good to see the children again.”

“And your new grandchild,” said Lord Burke.

“Aye,” said Murrough, pure satisfaction in his voice. He pushed his chair from the table and rose, then kissed Valentina’s cheek. “A most successful voyage, coz, and profitable, too. I think, once the shares are properly divided, you will find that it has cost you nothing.
Homeward Bound’s
captain tells me your horses all survived their journey quite well.”

“Everything, Murrough, has its price,” Valentina said quietly, “though I am glad about the horses.”

“There is a price to everything,” Murrough agreed, “but now it is all behind us. We are home safe, Val!” Then he was gone.

Murrough’s words echoed in her mind as they departed for Pearroc Royal the following day. They were home safe, and for that she was everlastingly grateful, but the memories would remain with her forever.

It took them several days to reach Oxford, for while the first day of their journey was bright and they made good progress, they awakened on their second day to a cold, driving rain that continued, on and off for three days, as they traveled homeward.

Valentina wondered if Murrough’s journey with his son, Geoff, was as wet and uncomfortable as theirs was. At Oxford they put up at the Glorious Elizabeth and had a final supper with the earl, who would leave them in the morning and travel north to Swan Court in Warwickshire.

The inn’s name brought to everyone’s mind the subject of the queen herself. After their dinner at Greenwood on Christmas night, both Padraic and Tom had gone to Whitehall, where the queen had kept her Christmas. Both men returned extremely disheartened by what they observed. They had seen the queen but not made their presence known to her, for fear of being commanded to join the court.

“She is not well at all,” the earl told Valentina sadly. “I have never seen her so frail. What’s worse, a friend told me, is that she is getting forgetful, and who dares to say, ‘Has Your Majesty forgotten?’ None are that brave, nor would I be.”

“Her joints are all swollen,” Lord Burke put in, “and it was necessary to file the coronation ring off her finger for the finger had grown into the ring. In forty-four years she has not had that ring off her finger! I find that a bad omen.”

“You should have let me see her.” Valentina was very distressed. “If she is ill, she needs people who love her about her, not the damned vultures who live on the royal largess and wait for the poor woman to die!”

“We stayed at court only long enough to ascertain the state of Her Majesty’s health,” Padraic answered her.

“And to hoist a few tankards with your friends.” Valentina chuckled. “I heard you both come rollicking in long after the clock struck two.” She grew serious again. “After I have seen my family and assured them of my good health, I shall return to court.”

“When is your wedding to be?” the earl asked.

“In the spring,” said Valentina sweetly.

“Before Twelfth Night!” said Lord Burke firmly. “If you think, Val, that I’m letting you go up to court before we wed, even with the queen poorly, you are sadly mistaken, madam.”

“Spring is such a lovely time for a wedding,” said the earl mischievously.

“Any time is
lovely
for a wedding when you are marrying the right woman,” Lord Burke growled. “I warn you, Tom, you are treading on thin ice!”

“Impatient, isn’t he?” The earl chuckled. “But then, divinity, I should be impatient, too, if you had chosen to wed me. You are certain about your decision, are you not?” He cocked his head to one side and smiled at her winningly.

“Tom!” Lord Burke warned.

“Very certain,” Valentina said softly, looking up at Padraic.

“And am I invited to the wedding, divinity?”

“No!” shouted Padraic.

“Yes,” said Valentina, “if you truly wish to come, Tom.”

“I must see you commit this supreme folly with my own eyes before I will believe it, divinity,” he answered her. “Send a messenger to Swan Court when the date has been set, and I will come.”

“I don’t know why you insist on having him at our wedding,” grumbled Padraic the following morning as they waved farewell to the earl.

“Because he is a good and true friend. Because he has shared great adventures with us. And because I feel, somehow, that his life will continue to be entwined with ours,” Valentina told him as she and Nelda climbed into their carriage. “Will you join me, my lord, or do you prefer to ride?”

“I’ll ride,” Lord Burke said grumpily, slamming the door to the coach.

“As you will, my lord,” she called to him from the lowered window, then raised it up with equal force.

Padraic grinned to himself. Val was Irish in temperament for all her English mother and her English upbringing. She had the O’Malley temper, drive, and determination. He was beginning to appreciate what all of his mother’s husbands, including his own father, had seen in his mother. Valentina was surprisingly like her Aunt Skye.

The sun decided to show itself momentarily as they finally reached Pearroc Royal. The carriage horses, sensing their final destination, warm, dry stalls, and extra measures of oats, galloped down the road in the late-afternoon sunlight. The door to the manor house was flung open as the coach careened to a stop, and Valentina sprang from the vehicle directly into Lord Bliss’s outstretched arms.

“Oh, Papa! Papa! ’Tis so good to be home!”

Conn’s arms tightened about his eldest child and he said quietly, “Have you found the answers you sought, Valentina?”

She looked up into his face, her amethyst eyes shining brightly. “There is no doubt that you are my father. I will tell you of our entire adventures if you will take me inside! ’Tis freezing out here!”

His arm about his daughter, Lord Bliss brought her into the house where her mother and several of Valentina’s siblings were excitedly waiting. Colin, Payton, and Jemmie were on her at once, kissing her and grinning with delight. Aidan flew forward to hug her daughter, her lovely eyes wet with tears.

“You are safe!” she said. “Thank God! You have no idea how much I have worried, Valentina.”

“Oh, Mama, I know you have worried, but now I am home again, quite safe … and planning to wed my cousin, Padraic.”

“Wed Padraic?” Aidan’s glance flew to her nephew, then back to her daughter. “Oh, my!” she gasped. “Oh, my!”

“Now, Mama,” Valentina gently teased her, “haven’t you wanted me to marry again? And who better than Padraic, who, it seems, has loved me since I was a child
but
felt I should wed a greater name than he had to offer. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous?”

“God’s nightshirt!” swore Colin St. Michael. “Ned Barrows was no great name or fortune.”

“Precisely!” Valentina agreed. “This man, who claims to love me, let me go to another. But for the grace of God we should have spent the rest of our lives living a lie! Now, however,” she said with a wicked grin, “I plan to spend the rest of my life making him pay for his foolishness!”

“Spoken like a true O’Malley.” Conn chuckled, winking at his nephew. “I hope you have all the other charms and talents belonging to O’Malley women.” Seeing Padraic blush, Conn whooped with laughter. “So she does, eh, my lord!”

“We are not O’Malleys,” said an elegant little voice. “We are St. Michaels.”

All eyes turned to the slender, copper-haired girl with the startling green eyes who was standing beside Aidan.

“Your father is an O’Malley, child, and had he not agreed to take my name so that the St. Michael name might not die out, you would be called O’Malley,” Aidan explained to her youngest daughter.

“Maggie?” Valentina was astounded. What a difference these months had made! The gangling girl they had left behind was shortly to be fifteen and had bloomed into exquisite loveliness. “Maggie, you are beautiful!” Valentina said warmly.

“Did you think I would remain a child, Val? I am very much a woman, I assure you.” Maggie tossed her head proudly.

“You had best not have attained womanhood yet, my girl!” growled Conn. “Now, come. Let us all sit down while Valentina tells us of her adventures—and of how she decided to accept this nephew of ours for her husband!”

The family adjourned to the Great Hall, where they gathered about the large fireplace, pulling chairs and stools and benches around the warmth. Goblets of wine and platters of cakes were passed, and when finally everyone was settled, all looked to Valentina.

She sat regally in a high-backed tapestried chair in their midst, Padraic standing by her side. She began slowly, choosing her words carefully, making them see the very things she had seen. San Lorenzo’s charming little capital city with its rainbow-colored houses; the exquisite temple on the little Greek island; the exotic beauty of Istanbul; the savage splendor of the Crimean steppes. She told them of the Duc di San Lorenzo, who had wished to marry her, telling the story lightly in order to ease her mother’s anxiety and avoid shocking her younger sister. She had them in fits of laughter explaining how the duke had arranged for the Gypsy dancers to entice Murrough, Padraic, and Tom Ashburne and how the three gentlemen fell willingly into the trap.

She told them of her capture by the wicked Temur Khan, but she told them just enough to indicate the danger she had faced while avoiding the truth.

Aidan was stunned by the mention of Temur Khan. “But I was told he had been killed,” she said. “What other lies were told me?”

Valentina reached out and patted her mother’s hand comfortingly. “The sultan’s soldiers were careless, for they feared Temur Khan. But believe me, Mama, he is dead, for I saw his head upon a lance.”

“Good!” said Aidan in a hard voice. Her face softened once more and she said gently, “Go on with your tale, Valentina.” Aidan did not want to say more than she should.

Lord Burke wondered how she was going to explain the vizier to them. To his surprise, Valentina did not tell them anything about Cicalazade Pasha at all. She said that their lateness in returning home had been due to delays in obtaining an audience with the Sultan Valide Safiye. Then she went on to tell them of the currency riots in Istanbul in which Esther Kira and her family were killed.

“We managed to rescue Esther’s ten great-great-grandchildren, Mama. Six little boys, the youngest of whom is only four and a half months, and four little girls. And Lev Kira’s wife, Sabra, a young girl, was allowed to come with us. She is expecting her first child this winter. Lev was the youngest of Esther’s great-grandsons.”

“ ‘We’?” Lord Burke looked at Valentina proudly. “Val saved the Kiras, Uncle. When she was in the harem visiting with the sultan’s mother, the sultan cast lustful eyes on Val.”

Aidan made a small pitiful sound, but Lord Burke quickly reassured his aunt, whose memories had never died.

“The Sultan Valide had only just finished explaining to Val why her late husband could not be Val’s father, reassuring her that her real father had to be Uncle Conn. But when she saw which way the wind was blowing with her son, she introduced Val as his sister. Val used that lie to help the Kira children, telling the grand vizier, who led the janissary troops into the riot, that she was the sultan’s sister and that she would not allow the little ones or Sabra to be slaughtered. She was so firm that the vizier ordered his captain and some of the janissaries to escort us safely to the harbor. And that is how the Kira children were saved.”

“You might have been killed,” Aidan fussed at her daughter.

“But I was not killed, Mama. I am back home safely, and I am at the end of my story.” Valentina laughed.

“And now, we must plan a wedding,” Aidan said, brightening. “You are long out of mourning for Lord Barrows, so we need not wait past the Lenten season.”

“We will marry before Twelfth Night, Aunt,” Lord Burke said firmly. “Val is
long
past her mourning period, and I am not of a mind to spend a cold and lonely winter. Besides, the wench is closer to twenty-three than twenty-two, and long in the tooth.” He bent and kissed her ear.

“ ‘Long in the tooth,’ my lord?” She aimed a blow at his head, which he skillfully ducked.

“My mother had four children by the time she was twenty-three,” he teased her. “You’re a veritable hag, and have not borne your first babe.”

“Hag?” Valentina leaped to her feet and began to pummel his chest. “My mother was almost twenty-six when I was born, and she bore six children after me!”