Skye O'Malley (11 page)

Darragh flushed. Her “nay” was audible to all. Skye smiled sweetly, curtseyed again and, taking her husband’s arm, turned away. Behind her she heard the MacWilliam chuckle.

Skye allowed Dom to seat her by the fire. She stared into the leaping flames as he went in search of some mulled wine. She was almost shaking with suppressed fury. How could Niall behave in such a fashion?! He had shamed her before the entire county on her wedding night, left her after making extravagant promises he never intended keeping, and now he pretended that he had been the injured party! The bastard! A goblet was shoved into her hand and she gulped a mouthful of wine to calm herself.

“You were magnificent!” she heard her husband say. “By God, you showed Niall Burke, and in front of all Connaught too! Not that I think it would be easy to get that skinny, overbred O’Neill wench pregnant. I don’t even envy him the task,” he laughed.

“Shut up, you overblown fool!” she hissed at him through gritted teeth. God, why were all men such idiots? “I don’t give a tinker’s damn for Niall Burke, but I’d not insult the MacWilliam’s hospitality, so try not to be too obvious in your glee,
husband
.”

Dom looked at her strangely, but before he could say another word Anne O’Malley came to greet them. She sent Dom off to join his friends, then settled herself comfortably and looked at her stepdaughter. “Was it wise to insult Niall Burke and his wife?” she asked.

“Was it wise for him to insult me?” Skye snapped.

“You still love him.”

“I hate him! For pity’s sake, Anne, speak of something else. The babe has a tendency to make me weepy, and I’d rather not be misunderstood.”

“Of course,” said Anne O’Malley sagely. “It would hardly do for Niall Burke to think you weep for him.”

“I never realized before what a bitch you can be,
stepmother
,” said Skye evenly.

Anne laughed. “Oh, the babe does make you testy, doesn’t it?”

“He,” said Skye. “Dom and his father are convinced it’s a lad, and they will accept nothing less.”

“Oh, I see. And how goes it with you otherwise?”

“Quite well, actually, Anne. Da did me a great service in wedding me to Dom. Not only have I gained a lecher for a husband, I also have one for a father-in-law. My husband’s sister is a common bitch not averse to stealing my possessions when she can, and whining to her father and brother when she’s caught. It’s a charming new family I have. I am most grateful to Da.

“My new home is in a shocking state of disrepair, and despite the fine dowry Da gave me, I am told that no money can be found to put it to rights. Half the household items I brought to O’Flaherty House, the silver bowls and candlesticks in particular, are mysteriously missing. In short, I am the mistress of a dung heap peopled by a vain and randy old cock, a vain and randy young cock, and a flighty hen.”

Anne was shocked. “Do you want to come home until the child is born, Skye?” Sweet Mary! She couldn’t let Skye have her baby in that place!

“God, yes! I do want to come home, but they’ll not let me for the next O’Flaherty must be born in his own home, Anne. I would appreciate it, however, if you could arrange for Eibhlin to come to me immediately after Candlemass. Though the child isn’t due until early spring, a late-winter storm at the wrong time could delay her, and I would be frightened if she were unable to reach me in time. Besides,” Skye smiled wryly, “I need the company. Claire is none, and neither she, nor Mag, nor our old cook knows about birthing a child.”

Anne was now very upset.”What of the other women in your household? The maids? The laundresses? Is there no midwife in your village?”

“The few women we can get to work for us come from our nearby village each day and return to their homes at night. They love their children, and no family would allow their daughters in my
house because of Dom and his father. They will work O’Flaherty lands, and pay O’Flaherty taxes, and fight for the O’Flahertys, but too many of their girls have been abused by the O’Flaherty men for them to allow their daughters in our house. Even so, Dom and Gilly have had their share of the poor creatures. They go out on horseback and hunt them down while the girls are working in the fields! The O’Flahertys’ reputation is so bad that even Claire has no tiring woman of her own.”

“I knew it was all wrong from the beginning,” said Anne. “I knew it!”

“Then why didn’t you speak to Da as you
promised
me, Anne? You encouraged him to wed me off the very morning of Conn’s birth!”

“No, no, Skye! That’s not so at all! I tried to tell your father right after Conn was born, but they’d given me herbs in wine to make me sleep, and your father misunderstood me. When I finally awoke two days later, you were wed, and had already been sent to St. Bride’s.”

“Then you did not betray me to get me out of the house?”

“You foolish goose! Whatever made you think such a thing? Once you were firmly wed there was nothing I could do. I only wish your father had waited. Even though he was firmly set on the match, perhaps I could have prevented the afterward.”

“No,” said Skye softly. “At least with Niall Burke I learned that love can be sweet—not true, but sweet. Had it not been for him, I might have gone my whole life believing all men were animals.”

“Some men are more vigorous in bed than others, Skye.”

“Dom is a pig,” was the flat reply.

“Why do you hate Niall if you’re grateful to him?”

Skye’s eyes blazed blue fire, and her voice was rock hard. “Because he betrayed me! Because he swore he loved me! Because he promised to have my marriage annulled, to wed with me. Instead he crept from my side before the dawn without even so much as a good-bye kiss and rode merrily home to wed his high O’Neill! I will
never
forgive him for that, Anne!
Never
!”

In the silence that followed, Anne O’Malley struggled terribly with her conscience. She knew the full truth. Finally she decided that silence was the best policy. To tell Skye the truth now would do nothing more than hurt and anger her further. Nothing could be changed now. Skye was wed, and pregnant with her husband’s child. Niall Burke was wed. If either of them learned now of the deception that had been practiced on them it would only cause
greater unhappiness. Who knew what those two strong-willed, passionate people would do if they ever learned the truth?

Anne was saved from further talk by the announcement that dinner was served. Once in the banquet hall they separated, for in deference to the O’Malley’s value to the MacWilliam, O’Malley and his wife were seated higher up on the board than Skye and Dom, who were seated much below the salt. Dom, however, cared not one whit, for thanks to his wife’s beauty and wit, he was very much the center of a gay group of young people, some of whom were well-endowed wenches with bold eyes. He anticipated a pleasant Twelve Days of Christmas.

And Skye sparkled, determined to show Niall how indifferent she was. It seemed to those who sat in the more favored places at the table that those below the salt were having a far better time than those above it. There was simply no denying that young Lady O’Flaherty was a delightful and charming beauty.

Skye ate carefully, taking of the first course only a thin slice of fresh salmon, and of the second only the wing of a lemoned capon. She ate two small pieces of newly baked brown bread, liberally spreading the butter across it with her thumb. Around her, the other guests gorged themselves on dish after dish, but Skye was revolted by the overrich menu. When the sweet was served she enjoyed a small tart of dried peaches, licking the clotted cream from about her mouth like a child. Watching her from the high board, Niall longed to kiss that mouth as much as he longed to strangle her for her perfidy.

As the meal drew to a close, more of those seated above the salt began drifting farther down the table to cluster about Skye. Occasionally great bursts of laughter issued forth from the group. When the dancing began Skye refused all but the least strenuous dances, but even so she never lacked for partners. She moved proudly, and with much grace, her gown showing to great advantage. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her smile flashed again and again.

At the high board Niall Burke sprawled in his chair, glowering, his big hand clutching his jewel-studded goblet so hard it was a wonder the stem was not bent. His silver-gray eyes, pantherlike, half closed, followed her wherever she went. Occasionally he took great gulps of the dark red wine, emptying and refilling his cup several times. She was beautiful, damn her, and even in her present state outrageously desirable.

“Young Lady O’Flaherty is most popular,” ventured Darragh.

“Aye,” he growled, suddenly standing up and striding away
from his wife to join the dancers. The young man partnering Skye suddenly felt a hard hand on his shoulder. Looking up to see his scowling, black-browed host, the young man quickly stepped aside. Niall clamped an arm about her waist and took one of her hands in his. Her smile faltered, but she never missed a step.

“Should you be dancing?”

“I am expecting a child, my lord. I am not mortally ill with a wasting sickness.”

“You’ve changed, Skye.”

“Nay, my lord. I have simply learned not to put my faith in pillow talk.”

They separated, and she wove in and out of the figure, meeting him again on the other side.

“I find it hard,” he said, “to understand the workings of a fickle woman’s mind. You behave as though I rejected you instead of the other way around.”

“You betrayed me. You left me without even a good-bye, and hurried home to wed and bed your ‘dead’ fiancée! I had no chance to reject you, but I do now!”

“I was not betrothed to Darragh O’Neill until after your marriage, Skye. It was her dead sister, Ceit, who was to be my wife.”

Again they were separated by the figure. When they met again, he said, “I would never have wed Darragh had it not been for your letter.”

Skye stopped dead. “What letter?” she demanded of him.

One look at her face told Niall Burke that something was very wrong, but they were in a roomful of people, some of whom were eying them with speculative curiosity. “But of course you’re exhausted, in your condition, Lady O’Flaherty. Allow me to escort you to a seat, and get you some chilled wine,” he said loudly, leading her from the floor. He found her a seat within a windowed alcove. Though they were plainly visible to the entire room, they had the privacy to talk without being overheard. Niall snatched two goblets of wine from a passing valet, and handed her one.

Understanding the need for deception, she leaned back with half-closed eyes feigning exhaustion. Her heart was hammering, not from weariness but from the sudden realization that they had probably been tricked. “What letter?” she asked again.

“I did not leave you willingly, Skye. Your father sent a little lad up the vine outside your window, and the boy opened your bedchamber door to the O’Malley and his men. I was gagged, and taken from the room. I explained our plight to your father, but he
would not listen. Rather he had me knocked unconscious, and taken home by one Captain MacGuire. The next day I was given a letter in which you repudiated our relationship. For God’s sake, Skye, the handwriting was feminine, and I recognized the seal as the one on your own ring.”

“We all have these rings, Niall. All my sisters, even Eibhlin.”

“I did not know,” he sighed deeply. “It would seem, my love, that those two old spiders, our fathers, have gotten their way by foul means. Damn them both!”

“Do you love her, Niall?”

“No. She was to be a nun, and in her heart she still is. She spends more time on her knees than in our bed.”

“I’m glad!” she said fiercely, and he understood.

“The child—?”

“Is Dom’s. There is no doubt, Niall. I swear it! Do you think I would be here if it were not?”

“Have you learned to love him then?”

“I will never love him, but I am his wife as you are Darragh’s husband,” she said quietly. “And now, my lord, bid me good night, for we are fast becoming the center of curiosity in the hall and I see Dom coming.”

“I will find another opportunity to speak with you,” he said. He did not leave her side, but stood waiting until Dom joined them. “Your wife is fatigued from the dancing, O’Flaherty. You must take good care of her since she carries your heir. You’re very fortunate in that respect.”

Dom, taken off guard, was speechless. Niall bent over Skye’s hand, briefly but tenderly kissing it. “Good night, Lady O’Flaherty.” Then he was gone across the floor to rejoin the dancers.

“Will you escort me to our room, Dom? I am very tired.” She fought to keep her voice flat. Dom must not know! Not even suspect!

“Of course, my love,” he answered, his voice sweet. Helping her up, he walked her slowly from the hall. When they had gained their room she asked him to call her maid. “Nay, love, I’ll maid you myself, Skye.” His voice had become soft and caressing. It was a dangerous sign. “There wasn’t a woman tonight who could compare with you,” he murmured. “Every man envied me my beautiful wife. Every one of them imagined what it would be like to stick himself in you, but I’m the only one who can do that, Skye,
aren’t
I?” He had her bodice unlaced now, and drew it off. His fingers swiftly drew her gown and her petticoats down and off. Then her chemise,
and finally she stood naked and shivering in her embroidered stockings with their gold ribbon and silk rosette garters. Slowly he let his eyes wander over the new fullness of her breasts, and the sweet swelling of her belly. His hand caressed the living roundness, and Skye, barely breathing, prayed he would be satisfied by this show of ownership.

“Kneel on the edge of the bed, Skye.”

She shivered. “Dom, please! It’s not good for the child.”

“Kneel, you little bitch! Or do you want me to believe what my eyes told me when I looked across the hall tonight to see the fine Lord Burke bending solicitously over my wife, ogling her tits? And you! You encouraged him!”

“No! I didn’t!” Every muscle in her body tensed. Then, sighing, she knelt on the edge of the bed, her knees drawn up beneath her. Her hands were clenched into tight balls. There was no fighting him. Resistance brought further punishment.