“Thank you, madame,” was his reply, and Murrough bowed and backed his way out of the queen’s chamber.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand coins’ worth of pure gold!” exclaimed Lord Burghley disgustedly when the door had shut behind the captain. “Do you know what we could do with that money, madame?”
“She is my friend,” said Elizabeth Tudor quietly.
“That Irish bitch?” exploded William Cecil. “How many times has she defied you, and fought you, madame?”
“Aye, William,” the queen said calmly, “she has indeed defied me and fought me over the years, but never, my lord,neverhas Skye O’Malley betrayed me. Not once, and ’tis certainly more than I can say for my own conduct with regards to her.”
“You are England’s queen, madame, and your conduct as such has always been above reproach,” came his answer.
“Aye,” the queen agreed, “but there are few people other than yourself, my dearSpirit, whose conduct and code of morals is steady and never-changing. Skye O’Malley is one of those people. She did not have to put either herself or her ships in jeopardy in order to gain a toehold in India for England, but when I asked her to she agreed to try.”
“She would have gained greatly by it,” Lord Burghley said sourly.
“But there was the greater chance that she would lose, William, and indeed she has. This venture has cost her dearly, but it shall not cost her her life or the life of her husband. I will speak no more on it!”
William Cecil, Lord Burghley, clamped his lips shut. Ever since Dudley’s death the queen had grown sentimental, and at the damndest times. He would wager that Lady de Marisco, left to her own clever devices, would escape quite handily from the Portuguese, and without the loss of all that gold to England’s economy. Skye O’Malley wasn’t a woman to sit idle.
Murrough O’Flaherty, making his way back to his brother’s home, would have agreed with the queen’s closest confidant. Ever since his youngest sibling’s birth his mother had been content to remain at home, which was totally unlike her. Murrough admired Skye, and now that Velvet was married and settled he expected to see Skye take complete charge of the O’Malley empire again.
“Murrough!” Willow hurried toward him with outstretched arms.
“Murrough!”
Jesu! Was that exquisite beauty really Velvet? The two women hugged him warmly and planted wet kisses on his ruddy cheeks. A burst of contentment ran through him, and he hugged them back, one arm around a supple waist and the other around one less supple, but comfortable. “Damn me if you’re not a pretty pair of pigeons to come home to, my darlings!”
“Have you been home yet to Joan and the children?” his elder sister demanded.
“Nay, Willow, I came directly to London, for I have news of Mother and Adam.”
“Are they long behind you?” Willow demanded. “We did not expect them until spring.”
Robin appeared at the top of the main staircase. “Come up,” he said, “and Murrough shall give you the news at once.”
Realizing that his brother didn’t want him to speak until they were all together, Murrough mounted the stairs with his two sisters. Entering Robin’s library, he saw his brother-in-law, James Edwardes, the Earl of Alcester, and another man who Robin quickly introduced as Velvet’s husband, Alex Gordon, the Earl of BrocCairn. Alex’s handclasp was firm and his gaze unwavering. Murrough liked the look of him.
“Now tell us your news!” Velvet demanded impatiently as she settled herself in a chair by the fire.
“Aye,” said Willow, for once echoing her younger sister. “Tell us of Mother and Adam. Were they well when you last left them? And what of Uncle Robbie?”
Calmly, Murrough explained the situation as he had left it, and was relieved to see that neither of his sisters fell into a swoon.
“How long before you leave?” Willow asked bluntly when he had finished. “Two weeks at the most,” was his reply.
“How long is the passage to India?” Velvet was more to the point.
“Several months, depending upon the winds.”
She nodded. “Robin should have at least one child and another started by the time Mama and Papa get back.”
“And what of us?” demanded Alex.
“ ’Twill be as God wills it, my lord,” said Velvet airily, and he scowled.
“Is the money a problem?” Robin asked. “Did the queen offer to aid us any?”
Murrough laughed. “The queen apologized for her purse, which she claims is empty from the expense of the Armada victory. Lord Burghley tried to prevent our ransoming Mother and Adam on the excuse that the loss of our monies to the Portuguese dons could hurt the English economy. The queen refused his reasoning and wished me Godspeed. Don’t fear, Rob. We can well afford the gold though I hate to see it go to the viceroy.”
