“Nay, sweetheart, we should not do that. ’Tis a dangerous voyage that we plan for all you make light of it. We have kept her safe all these years, and by the time we return her marriage to the son of my old friend, the Earl of BrocCairn, will be nearly due. Let her remain here in England in our good Dame Cecily’s care, learning all the things she must know to be a good wife to young Alexander Gordon, who will one day be the Earl of BrocCairn himself.”
Skye chuckled. “All those duties that I’ve neglected to teach her myself, you mean. But I’ve taught her other things, Adam. She’s a well-educated child and will be no shame to her husband when he takes her to Scotland’s court.”
Adam smiled. He knew how much value Skye put upon knowledge even for her daughters. Had Dame Cecily not been a part of their household all these years, he wondered if the girls would have ever learned how to manage a household. That skill was the lowest on Skye’s list of priorities.
“Nay, Velvet will be no shame to BrocCairn, sweetheart,” he agreed, “but in the time we are away she will learn how to care for a large estate and all of its people. Though you dislike that duty, even you can perform it, but Velvet cannot, and in just a few short years she will be wed.”
Skye sighed. “I know, and that is one reason I am so loath to leave her. We shall miss at least two years of our daughter’s life, Adam. There is nothing Elizabeth Tudor can give us to compensate us for that loss.” She looked up at him and touched his cheek. “We have been so happy, haven’t we, my darling? As much as I long for this adventure, I am reluctant to break the spell thatQueen’s Malvernhas woven about all our lives. There is so much happiness to come. We shall not be here to help Robin and Alison celebrate little Elsbeth’s first birthday, and there is the new baby Alison carries that will be born soon. Ewan and Gwyneth promised to bring the children from Ireland this coming summer, and we’ve not yet seen their new child, Ualtar. Murrough will want to come with us, and I promised Joan I would not send him off upon another long voyage so soon. Do you realize that when the twins were born last summer it was the first time he was home for the birth of any of his children? He has been off so much that the twins are their first babies in five years.”
“You’re becoming a matriarch, sweetheart,” he teased her.
“I became a matriarch at seventeen when my father thrust the title of “The O’Malley” upon me. Thank God I have been relieved of that burden these past years! Oh, Adam! I want to go to India, and I don’t!”
“But go we must, Skye. The family will survive without us though I will allow they will miss you.”
“And you also, my darling! Though Velvet is your only child of my body, all my other children love you as they would their own fathers. If I am the matriarch of this family, then you are its patriarch, and we shall celebrate our fourteenth anniversary in the Indies come September.”
He laughed happily. “I can always trust you to see the bright side, sweetheart. So it is settled then. Velvet will remain safely with Dame Cecily atQueen’s Malvern, the rest of our children shall go on as usual, and we, my sweet Skye, shall go off on a final adventure in the queen’s name before we settle into a rather comfortable and quiet old age.”
“Old age?”She looked up at him, outraged, and then a wicked smile lit her features. “I shall never be old, Adam de Marisco,” she said, her fingers nimbly undoing his shirt. “I shall never be ready to becomethatcomfortable and quiet.” Her warm lips spread little kisses across his furred chest, causing a shiver of excitement to race through his veins. Then she eyed him mischievously. “Shall we begin our adventure tonight, my darling?”
His laughter rumbled about the room. “Our little daughter would be quite shocked,” he said, smiling at Skye. “She considers us a most respectable and staid couple.”
“And so she should,” replied Velvet’s mother. “She is much too young to be considering the ways of a man and a woman. There is plenty of time for her to think about those things after we return from India. Let her have her childhood first.”
“She is betrothed, Skye.”
“She has long since forgotten BrocCairn’s son, Adam. The betrothal took place when she was five, and you will remember I allowed it only because you swore to me she might make her own choice when the time came. I will not force Velvet into a marriage as my father forced me. Besides, although BrocCairn corresponds with you, his son has shown no interest in Velvet at all over the years. There is plenty of time yet to worry about such things. In the meantime, let Velvet be a little girl without a worry or care beyond her horses and the sweetmeats she constantly manages to weasel out of you and her brothers. She is really quite spoilt.”
“You’re right,” he agreed with her, smiling as he thought of his only and much-beloved child. “There is time for Velvet. More than enough time.”
Now is the month of May, when merry lads do play!
Fa la la la la la la, la la!
Fa la la la la la la!
Each with his bonnie lass, a-dancin on the grass!
Fa la la la la!
Fa la la la la la la, la! la la! la la!
—Sixteenth-century tune
“What the hell d’ye mean by ‘marry without delay,’ Father?” Alexander Gordon glowered down from his great height upon his bedridden father, but the Earl of BrocCairn was not intimidated by his son’s look. It was a look he’d often worn upon his own face in his younger days when someone more powerful than he was dictating to him. God, he thought, looking up at Alex, he looks just like I once did. He has the same height and lanky frame, a face that looks as if it was hewn from rock, and my black hair. Why, up until I had this damned accident, we were often taken for brothers.
Angus Gordon sighed deeply. He hated admitting his own weakness, but gritting his teeth, he said, “It should be clear to ye, Alex, that I will not survive to see the spring. Each day I find myself growing weaker, unable to do even the simplest things for myself. Hell, man! I can’t even stand to piss! I don’t want to live like this, and the physician from Aberdeen says I will get no better. I know I’m dying.”
“Damnation!” The younger man shifted his feet, obviously made quite uncomfortable by his father’s bluntness.
“I will be dead within a few weeks, Alex, and ye’re my only male heir,” continued the Earl of BrocCairn. “Wi’ yer mother and brother, Nigel, gone in last year’s epidemic, I have no one but ye and yer sister. I would rather not passDun Brocon to Annabella and her weak-willed husband who does not bear my name. Ye have a betrothed wife, Alex.Marry her!Get me a grandson on her body!”
“God’s foot, Father! A little English girl I haven’t seen in years? A child barely half grown, let alone capable of mothering a bairn of her own! Yer illness has addled yer wits!” Alexander Gordon’s voice was full of pity.
“Aye,” his father retorted sharply, “ye’ve not seen the lass since the day of yer betrothal. Whose fault was that, my son? Are ye aware of how long ago it took place? Almost ten years have passed, and de Marisco’s lass is full grown now and ripe for wedding. Ye have but to claim her!”
“Is there another, perhaps, who has captured yer heart?” Angus Gordon went on suddenly. “If there is, I’d not force this match upon ye, for I want ye to be happy with yer wife, Alex, as I was with mine. Yer mother was the love of my life, and as sad as I am to be leaving ye, I’ll be glad to be wi’ her again. It’s been a long year since my Isabelle left me.” His voice trailed off sadly.
