“Your wife does.” It was said flatly. “One of the worst cases I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m not surprised,” Niall said quietly. “You see, Doctor, my wife is indeed ill. She is a woman for whom one lover is simply not enough. Do you understand what I am saying?”
“I do, my lord, and I am sorry. I have heard of such cases. I can treat her symptoms, but unless you can prevent her folly, she will kill herself. Frankly, I am not sure it is not already too late.”
Niall sought his study. He lit no candles but sat quietly by the dancing fire.Well, Father, he thought,I shall not be bringing this wife home to Ireland yet.
Dr. Hamid returned the next day.
“Good evening, Doctor,” Niall greeted him.
“My lord.”
“Come see me after you have examined Constanza.”
“Very well, my lord.”
Niall sighed. He remained in thought for some time and then became aware that he was not alone.
“My lord?”
“Oh, Doctor. Come into my study and sit down, man. How is Constanza?”
“A bit stronger, but not as well as I hoped for, my lord.”
“Could she travel?”
“Ireland? It would kill her.”
“No, Doctor Hamid. Mallorca. She had expressed a desire to go home. If it is possible, I would grant her wish.”
“The sun would be very good for her, my lord, but she is not yet strong enough for the trip.”
“In a few weeks?”
“It is possible. Yes! In fact, if she knows she is going it will improve her attitude greatly.”
“Then I shall tell her. In the meantime I will go home to Ireland to see my father. I have been gone over four years.”
Niall Burke was on his way home within three days, riding across the verdant stretch of England that brought him to its westernmost port, where he quickly found a ship bound for Ireland.
The first sight of his beloved homeland, the softly undulating green hills, the dramatic, cloud-tossed skies peculiar to Ireland alone, combined with his lengthy absence brought tears to Niall’s eyes. But once the ship had docked and he was on a horse once more, sentiment gave way to sheer eagerness to reach the MacWilliam’s stronghold. He was stunned to find his family expecting him, and wondered how in the world they’d known of his coming. As he approached his home, he saw a figure riding out to meet him, and his heart caught when he recognized his father. The old man had grown thinner and was even frail, Niall noted as his father came closer. But he had not lost any of his fabled authority or proud bearing.
“So you let the O’Malley escape again, and she’s already spawned a son for her new lord,” was his father’s greeting. It was as if Niall had never been away.
“I have a wife now,” he reminded his father, more than a little defensive.
“Another barren field upon which your seed lays fallow. Where is she?”
“I left her in London. She is ill.”
“Humph! I might have guessed as much.”
“Father, I cannot stay. I came because I wanted to see you. Our climate is killing Constanza and because Ireland is no better I am taking her home to Mallorca.”
“Better you bring her here to Ireland to die. Then we can rewed you to a strong Irish girl who’ll give me grandsons. Foreign wenches transplant badly in Irish soil.”
“She will probably die anyway, Father. She misses the sun, and I would have her last days be happy.”
