“I trust I shall be free to come and go, my lord. There will be necessities I must get when my sister’s time comes.”
“No, madam,” said Cecil. “It would be too simple for Lady Burke to escape the Tower in a nun’s robes. Whatever you need you must either take in with you or have the servants fetch from the markets. You may enter the Tower, but once you leave it you will not be allowed back inside. Those are the conditions.”
“Very well,” answered Eibhlin. “I will abide by your conditions.” She bowed faintly to him and, turning said regally, “Farewell, my lord. My thanks.”
Several hours later, clutching the precious parchment in her slender hands, Eibhlin O’Malley entered the Tower of London and was escorted to her sister’s apartment high in one of the several towers. As she mounted the stairs, Eibhlin was pleased to see that the soldier who escorted her was respectful, and that the building seemed clean, relatively draft-free, and had no noxious odors.
Skye was sleeping when she arrived, but Daisy practically fell on her neck with undisguised relief.
“Oh, Sister, thank God you’re here!”
Eibhlin’s generous mouth twitched with amusement. “Now, Daisy, is it as bad as all that?”
“Sister, I have never even helped birth a kitten. I was so afraid I’d be alone with my lady when her time came. Lord Burke would surely kill me if I’d let anything happen to either Mistress Skye or the child.”
“Well, you need worry no longer, Daisy. I’m here, and I intend to stay!”
When Skye awoke, Eibhlin was well settled into the Tower suite. “How on earth did you get here?” she exclaimed, hugging her older sister.
“About ten days ago a giant of an Englishman arrived at St. Bride’s and told me you needed me. I was hurried across Ireland on the back of a bony horse, put on a tossing ship, and set down at Lynmouth. Niall told me the rest, and sent me up to London to be with you.”
“And Cecil let you in here? I am surprised. I’ve seen no one but Daisy and the guards since the morning after my arrival. I think I am supposed to be made afraid through continual isolation.”
“But being a sensible woman, sister, you are not afraid, I suspect.”
Skye smiled. “No, Eibhlin, I’m not.”
“Then you’ve gained no more sense with the passing years, little sister, than you had at ten,” replied the nun tartly, and Skye laughed.
“Oh, Eibhlin, it’s so good to have you with me!”
Later the two sisters bundled together in the large bed that took up almost the entire bedroom. It was hung with Skye’s own garnet-colored velvet hangings. The sheets, feather bed, goosedown pillows, and fur coverlets were her own. A fire blazed in the corner fireplace, warming the cold early December night and scenting the room with the fragrance of applewood. Because it was at the top of one of the towers, Skye’s bedchamber was totally private. It was the one place where she was free of being overheard. Now she and her sister spoke softly, but freely.
“Have they presented you with a list of formal charges?” asked Eibhlin.
“No, which confirms my suspicions that they suspect me of piracy but have no proof. I have not even been questioned.” She chuckled warmly. “No, they have no proof, Eibhlin. They will have to let me go eventually, and I’ll have made Bess Tudor doubly a fool!”
Eibhlin looked thoughtful. “Be careful, sister, that it’s not you who rides for a fall. Elizabeth is England’s acknowledged Queen, and if she chooses she can keep you here until you rot.”
“If she tries,” said Skye, her voice becoming hard, “the Burkes and the O’Malleys will rouse all of Connaught against her. And if Connaught rebels, all of Ireland will follow. There are enough hotheads in Ireland waiting just for an excuse.”
“My God, Skye, you’re bitter! Why? Why this unremitting hatred for the English Queen?”
Slowly, leaving out no detail, Skye told her sister of the Queen’s decision regarding Robin’s guardianship and of Lord Dudley’s continuing rape and abuse of her. Niall had not explained these things to Eibhlin.
“And I thought I was the rebel,” said Eibhlin. “By God, Skye, you’re a cool one. So the Queen knew of Lord Dudley’s conduct and allowed it. Then she’s gotten what she deserved! Now, however, our problem is to free you.”
“She can do nothing without proof!” maintained Skye stubbornly.
“She needs no proof to keep you here,” repeated Eibhlin. “What we must do now is convince her to her satisfaction that you are not guilty.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet. I must pray on it.”
Skye laughed. “It will take a powerful prayer, Eibhlin. Go to sleep. My conscience is as clear as an innocent babe’s.” And so saying,she tied the ribbons of her lace-edged lawn night cap firmly beneath her chin and, lying back, quickly fell asleep.
Eibhlin, however, lay awake thinking. Skye was right. The Queen had presented no formal charges of piracy against the Countess of Lynmouth, which meant that she indeed had no proof. But until she was convinced that Skye had had no part in the piracy, she would hold her prisoner, though she dared not act openly against her. It was a standoff.
