“No,niña!You have been fortunate. Be a good wife now.”
They argued for close to an hour, Ana urging restraint, Constanza becoming more frantic. Then suddenly the door was flung open, and Lord Burke strode in. “Good! You are both here. Ana, I am pensioning you off and sending you back to Mallorca.”
“No!” cried both women in unison. Ana flung herself at Lord Burke’s feet. “Please, my lord, no! Constanza is my baby! I cannot leave her! Do not make me, I beg you!”
Niall Burke lifted up the weeping woman. “Ana, it is precisely because of your love for Constanza that I must send you away. You knew of her perfidy, and yet you protected her. You would do so again. Had you come to me immediately, this scandal might have been avoided.”
“Please, my lord—”
“Ana, no more.” His voice was stern but kindly. “It is because of your love for my wife and the care you have given her that I pension you rather than send you onto the streets. Bid your mistress farewell now. You’ll leave in the morning and carry with you my instructions to my agent in Mallorca.”
Helplessly, Ana hugged Constanza to her, the tears running down her worn old face. “Niña, do as I have bid you, for the sake of the love I bore both you, and your poor mother.”
“Do not leave me, duenna! Do not leave me!” Constanza wept. “Niall! Please, I beg you!”
Lord Burke separated the two women. “Neither of you can be trusted,” he said wearily, and firmly escorted Ana from the room, stopping to lock the door behind him before he walked Ana to her room.
“My lord,” she pleaded once more.
“Adios, Ana. God go with you.”
“Be kind to her, my lord.”
“I have let her live to bear my sons, Ana, yet I am not sure I am wise in doing so.”
As Ana departed the next morning she remembered the sadnessin his voice. From an upper floor of the house Constanza waved to her, calling, “Adios, Ana mia. Vaya con Dios!”
Ana was taken by coach to the London docks, and escorted aboard a Mallorca-bound vessel. On her person she carried two letters. One was to the governor, Constanza’s father. It explained that the climate of England had proved detrimental to Ana’s health and, as Ireland was no warmer, Lord Burke was pensioning off his wife’s loyal retainer. She would be given a cottage on Constanza’s dowry lands, and an annual stipend. The second letter directed Lord Burke’s Mallorcan agent to make the proper arrangements for Ana.
The vessel on which Ana traveled was fortunate. As there were few ships in the London Pool, it sailed within two days. Ana’s thoughts, however, remained behind in England, with her mistress.
CHAPTER 20
ALINE OF BRIGHTLY DECORATED CARRIAGES EXTENDED DOWNthe Strand from the entry of Lynmouth House. Gaily caparisoned horses, their elegant riders bandying the latest gossip, rode past the carriages and up the driveway of the beautiful riverside mansion. Lady Southwood, two weeks past childbirth, was receiving. Everyone sought to congratulate the Queen’s favorite lady on the birth of the Lynmouth heir.
The truth had been broadcast about the lovely Countess of Lynmouth. She had not been raised in a French convent. She was in fact an Irish heiress who had suffered from a complete loss of memory since being kidnaped by pirates! She had been betrothed to the Irish Lord Burke at the time of her disappearance. The same Lord Burke whose wife provoked the terrible duel that killed poor Basingstoke. It was all too delightfully scandalous.
Scandal bred scandal. Some cousins of Geoffrey Southwood’s, the ones who stood to inherit his title and estates if he died without male issue, then petitioned the Archbishop of Canterbury to declare the Earl’s current marriage null and void and his new son, Robert, a bastard. Their justification was Skye’s previous contact with Lord Burke! The uproar that followed was monumental, with Geoffrey Southwood calling his cousin out and badly wounding him in a duel. It was still not certain whether the foolish man would live.
Lord Burke, a gentleman even if he was Irish, had saved the situationby bringing forth a document signed by the Pope and attested to as genuine by the Spanish ambassador. The document had dissolved Lord Burke’s betrothal contract with Skye O’Malley, who was presumed deceased. Constanza’s father had been a careful man! The Archbishop of Canterbury subsequently declared that no impediment had existed at the time of the marriage between Lord and Lady Southwood. Therefore, their son, Robert, was legal issue. The archbishop had baptized the boy himself, with the Queen and Lord Dudley acting as the child’s godparents.
But there was even more! Lord Burke had invaded the house of the prostitute, Claro, stripped her naked, and whipped her through the streets of London to the edge of the city. He left her there to brave a mob of lustful men and outraged goodwives. Returning to his own home, Burke discovered his wife, her jewels, and his head groom gone. The Queen had lifted his banishment until he could find Constanza. She seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. The Court agreed that the past half-month had been simply exhausting!
The Countess of Lynmouth received her guests in state, propped up in her bedchamber with its gold-embroidered rose velvet hangings. She wore a heavy cream-colored quilted satin bedgown, embroidered with pearls and turquoise in a floral design. Her beautiful dark curls were held back by a matching pearl-and-turquoise ribbon. Her pink cheeks and sparkling blue eyes attested to her good health and quick recovery. Southwood finally had a lucky marriage. The lady was a good breeder who’d probably give him a son every year or two.
Plump goosedown pillows, their lace-edged white linen covers smelling faintly of lavender, propped the Countess up. A pink coverlet that matched the rose velvet hangings was spread over the bed. Next to the canopied bed a carved and gilded walnut cradle displayed the lace-capped heir who slept, oblivious, through the admiring exclamations.
The room was a treasure trove of gifts, all tastefully displayed in honor of their donors. Chief among the gifts was a set of twelve silver cups set with sapphires, the baby’s birthstone. They were from his godmother. Lord Dudley had presented his godson with a leather case containing twelve silver spoons. The child’s crest was on the front, his birthdate on the back.
Everyone who came brought gifts. Young Robin had a dozen silver rattles of various designs and at least that number in teething rings. There were several christening cups, many lengths of excellentcloth, and a number of well-filled purses. There were gifts for Skye too. Frivolous bits of lace and ribbons, little jewelry, and nosegays of late-September flowers. Through it all, Geoffrey Southwood stood by his wife’s side watching over her with loving pride. She had been most loving since Robin’s birth, and that more than anything else she could have done, reassured Geoffrey.
But Skye did not feel sure of herself. Niall Burke had not yet come to see her, and how could she know what was really in her heart until he did? Why did he not come? And when he finally did, at last, she was totally unprepared.
Autumn had been late in coming, and even now at October’s end the trees were just at their golden peak. Geoffrey had been gone ten days, down into Devon to oversee the arrangements for his wife and son’s arrival there. The Queen had finally, though reluctantly, agreed to let Skye go at least until the spring.
Skye sat, this bright October day, beneath an apple tree in her riverside garden. Her yellow skirts were spread about her like a flower. Willow, now two and a half, played nearby under the watchful eye of her nurse. The baby slumbered on a blanket beside his mother in the warm afternoon sun. Skye was relaxed and content when Daisy came to announce, “My lord Burke has called to pay his respects, milady. He is waiting in your little library.”
Skye rose slowly with far more calm than she felt. “Take Robin to his nurse, Daisy,” she instructed, then walked quietly across the lawn and into the house. She stopped for a moment to check her hair in a mirror, carefully tucking an errant lock into the golden net that confined her dark curls. Her hand was trembling, which didn’t surprise her, for her heart was racing wildly. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the door handle firmly, straightened her shoulders, and walked purposefully into the library.
