Skye O'Malley (30 page)

Led by the captain-governor and the bey’s beautiful tragic widow who was garbed entirely in white, a thin mourning band around her head, the funeral procession made its way from the villa through the city to the cemetery, following a careful ritual of lamentations by the women and readings from the Koran by the men.

The bey’s tomb, a small, domed white marble building, overlooked the harbor. Carefully the body was laid to rest on its side, facing the holy city, and final prayers for his safe arrival in Paradise were said by the young mullah who had married them. Skye had allowed Yasmin to be buried honorably, and her shrouded body was placed at her master’s feet in hopes that she would serve him better in Paradise. In her grief, Skye attempted to remain in the tomb with her husband and had to be carried out.

With sundown, Skye was safe from Jamil for twenty-four hours, and in those twenty-four hours Jean worked feverishly with Robert Small and Simon ben Judah to put the bey’s affairs in order. The goldsmith, whose own sabbath followed the Moslem one, knew of several prospective buyers for the bey’s business. They could not be approached, however, until Sunday, the first day of the week.

On Saturday morning a slave was dispatched to the Casbah fort, bearing a message for the captain-governor. Jamil read the neatly written words twice, as if seeking a hidden meaning.

“My lord Jamil. I am deeply appreciative of your kindness to me. For the next thirty days I shall be secluded in deepest mourning, and will receive no visitors. I know you will honor my grief.” It was signed, “the lady Skye, widow to Khalid el Bey.”

Jamil gritted his teeth with annoyed frustration. He was aware that he could hardly propose marriage to a newly widowed woman, but he had hoped to sweep her off her feet, thus preventing any other suitors from courting her. Then a thought struck him, and he smiled. The thirty days could easily work to his advantage. Skye was young and used to regular lovemaking. After a month of abstinence, she should succumb quickly. He smilingly dictated a proper reply to her letter.

“Lady Skye. Your period of mourning will be honored, though reluctantly. I shall call upon you thirty-one days from this date.” It was signed: “Jamil, Captain-Governor of the Casbah Fortress.”

Skye read the message and chuckled with delight. She could sense the pent-up frustration, and was pleased to hurt him even in this small way. Within a month Khalid el Bey’s affairs in Algiers would be settled, and she would have made good her escape.

And as if Khalid’s spirit watched over her, the days sped smoothly by and everything proceeded toward the sale of the bey’s interests. Simon ben Judah explained smoothly to prospective buyers that there were those less reputable than they who might wish to cheat a young widow, so it was best that negotiations remain strictly secret. Since none of those involved wished others to know of the bidding, the secret was kept. When a bargain was finally struck, Skye found herself twice as rich as Khalid el Bey had left her. The monies, all in gold coin, were transferred to London. Both the villa and the seaside kiosk were sold to Osman the astrologer.

Osman was one of the few people she saw during her mourning. He had come one afternoon to tell her that he wanted the house and kiosk for himself and his beautiful slave woman, the same girl Khalid el Bey had given him. She sold to him readily, happy that someone she knew and liked would live in happiness in the places where she had been so happy. She and Osman sat in the villa garden and she served him Turkish coffee and small honey cakes.

“You are with child,” he said quietly.

“Yes,” she answered, not in the least surprised. “I had told Khalid the night before he.… He was very happy.”

“You made him very happy, Skye. You were his joy. I warned him, however, that your fate was not with him. It is back among your own people, and you will soon begin that journey back.”

“Oh, Osman! Did I cause Khalid’s death?”

“No, my dear, you did not, and you must never blame yourself. Khalid el Bey played out his fate as it had been planned since the beginning of time. Now you must play out yours.”

“Who am I, Osman?”

“I do not know, Skye, but I will tell you what I do know, what I told your husband before he married you. You were born under the sign of the ram. Your homeland is a green and misty place peopled by strong spirits and psychic forces. You will always control your own destiny, Skye, and you will eventually be reunited with your true mate.”

“Khalid el Bey was my true mate!” she snapped angrily.

“No, Skye, he was not. He loved you deeply, never doubt it. And I know that you loved him, but there is another man, a stronger force in your life. He was with you before, and will return to you in time. Follow your instincts, my dear. They will never fail you.”

“And my child?”

“Will be born safely, Skye, and live to a ripe old age, as will you.”

“Thank you, Osman. I will always have my memories of Khalid el Bey, but to have his child is a far dearer thing. Thank you for the reassurance.”

The astrologer stood up. “I will go now, my dear, and I shall bid you a final farewell now. Since I was away from the city when Khalid died, it is understandable that I pay my condolences now. If, however, the man who watches this villa so carefully for the captain-governor should see me here again it will certainly seem curious, and it will arouse suspicions, so I will not return.”

“Jamil has set men to watch my house?” she exclaimed. “How dare he! The arrogance of the man!”

Osman laughed. “My dear, he fancies himself in Khalid el Bey’s place and wishes to discourage any other suitors.”

“I would sooner wed a snake.”

“That will not be necessary,” replied the astrologer drily. “You will easily escape him. He suspects nothing. When do you leave?”

“In two nights. It will be the dark of the moon.”

“Good, but be careful. What of your slaves?”

“I have freed them, and will give them money to start a new life. Jean and Marie will come with me.”

“Tell the others that I will employ any who choose to stay. Ask those who prefer to go to remain here until I come to take possession of the house in six days. If they go about their business as usual, the captain-governor’s spies will suspect nothing. That will give you a four-day start. It should be enough to get you out into the western sea, and pursuit is virtually impossible then.”

“Oh, Osman, how can I thank you?”

He smiled at her. “By playing out your part as Allah has foretold it, my dear.”

She walked with him back into the house, bidding him a final farewell in the atrium. Taking his hand, she pressed it to her lips and forehead. “Saalam, Osman, my friend.”

“Saalam, Skye, my daughter. Allah go with you.”

During the next few days Skye’s emotions fluctuated wildly.
She was frightened by the unknown awaiting her in the foreign-sounding town of London. She was elated by the fact she was outwitting Jamil, though frustrated that she could not inflict a terrible injury on him in retaliation for Khalid’s murder. She was happy and relieved that Jean, Marie, and Captain Small would be with her, but sad to leave such good friends as Osman.

Then the night of her departure arrived, and she stood with Marie making a final inventory of the few things she would take with her. Most of her clothing would, of course, remain. This wardrobe was hardly suitable to a life in England. She would, however, take some caftans with her to be worn in the privacy of her bedchamber. The flowing loose robes would be comfortable as her pregnancy went on. The loose gemstones Khalid had kept, as well as her marvelous jewelry, were all sewn into the garments for safe transportation. She would take her wonderful gold brushes and combs, her crystal perfume bottles filled with rare and costly essences, and other things of a sentimental and personal nature. They were all packed carefully in carved cedarwood chests and passed quietly from servant to servant and finally to the silent English seaman who waited in the dark outside the villa’s garden gate. Unaware of the little wicket gate, Jamil had no one watching it.

Skye climbed to the roof of the house and gazed for one final time over the city of Algiers. Below her, the night lights twinkled, and she heard, faintly, the murmur of life as it brawled and sobbed and laughed. Above her, the velvet heavens gleamed black, and she stared deeply into them as if trying to pierce through the darkness.

“Oh, Khalid!” she sighed, then jumped, startled by the sound of her own voice. She had not cried since the day they had buried him, but now she wept without restraint. She stood in the center of the roof terrace, her face upturned to the skies, letting her grief pour over her. And when she had finished she said softly, “I shall never grieve so deeply for you again, Khalid, my love. I have my memories, and I have our child, whom I regret will never know you. Now, Khalid, I must leave our home, and I hope you will wish me Godspeed. I wish you the same.” She stood quietly, and a great peace flooded through her and she knew that he approved of what she was doing. “Thank you, my love,” she said. Glancing around the terrace a final time, she descended to the ground floor of the house where the servants all waited to bid her good-bye.

She spoke quietly to each in turn, and they thanked her for their freedom and the money she had given them. For now, they had all decided to remain in Osman’s employ. Her farewells over,
she joined Jean and Marie and walked through the gardens and then through the little back gate.

By prearrangement, a closed litter awaited them. Entering it, they sat wordless, each wrapped in his own thoughts. The bearers made their way down into the city and to the docks. Captain Small awaited them, and no sooner were they aboard his vessel, the
Mermaid
, than the gangway and anchor were raised. While the first mate saw the ship underway, Robert Small escorted his passengers to their quarters.

Skye could not remember her arrival in Algiers, but she would always remember her departure. On a hill overlooking the harbor she could pick out the spot where her husband’s tomb stood. Looming above the city she saw the sinister towers of the Casbah. Marie smiled grimly.

“We are well revenged, madam. This morning I sent the captain-governor a plate of sweetmeats in your name. I made them myself. One of the ingredients was an herb that will render the evil Jamil impotent for all time. He will never hurt another woman with his lust again.”

“Marie! It is perfect! Imagine his shock, and then his shame! Oh, how I wish I might be there to see his agony!”

The two women stood watching in silence as the lights of the city disappeared in the distance. Then Marie put an arm about Skye and led her to her cabin where, for the first time in weeks, she slept soundly. With the tension gone from her life Skye suddenly began to behave like the pregnant woman she was. She developed peculiarities of appetite and was frequently sleepy. She became queasy and then seasick when the ship hit rough weather off the Bay of Biscay.

Marie and Jean sat with Captain Small one evening discussing Skye’s welfare. They all agreed that London was not the place for a delicate expectant mother.

“It is your country,” said Marie to the little Englishman. “Where would be a good place for Madam to have her
accouchement
?”

“There are many pleasant places near London,” replied Captain Small, “but I would prefer she was someplace far from the city. It’s not just the child we must worry about. The lady Skye has had the severe shock of her husband’s murder. She ought to be in a quiet place. I have set course for my own home port, the town of Bideford in Devon. I own a fine big house several miles outside the town. My sister, Cecily, lives there. She will welcome you all, and
adore taking care of the lady Skye. After the babe is born your mistress may continue on to London. But perhaps by then she will not wish to go.”

Thus it was that the
Mermaid
rounded Hartland Point on a fine October morning to sail into Barnstable Bay and then a little way up the River Torridge to Bideford. As Skye stood at the ship’s rail, watching the undulating woodland scenery that sloped down to the riverbank, she saw with sure instinct that this was a safe haven. Robert Small had been right. It was here that she would have her baby in safety. Whatever else came afterward, she would find the courage to face it.

As Osman had said, Skye was following her destiny.

PART III

E
NGLAND

CHAPTER 13

T
HE LITTLE TOWN OF
B
IDEFORD, SMALL THOUGH IT WAS, WAS
one of the most prosperous seaports in England. Under the personal protection of the great de Grenville family, Bideford was just entering the period of its greatest prosperity when Skye arrived there.

Set on the side of a long hill backed by a vast woodland, it sloped downward to the river Torridge. Bideford, surrounded by rolling hills, woodlands, fertile meadows, and orchards full of ripening apples, was a most charming, colorful English town.