Elizabeth regained some of her senses. She stared at Cecil. “Does O’Neill dabble in treason? Or is he moved by animal lust?” She became breathless, fearing the worst.
“’Tis too soon to tell,” Cecil said calmly.
Then Elizabeth thought of the girl. Her anger doubled, tripled. “She enticed him, she did, just as she has enticed Robin and Tom,” she spit. “And to think that I took her into my court, rising her up far beyond what she was due. This is her fault as much as his! Perhaps they even planned this deceit together!”
“Your Majesty,” Hawke interjected, “Katherine was no willing participant in her abduction. I was there, I saw her every action. She was distraught, nay, stunned, by the pirate’s actions.”
Cecil stepped forward as well. He spoke softly. “Mayhap you judge her too harshly, Your Majesty. ’Tis likely she is an innocent victim yet again, and but a pawn of the powerful pirate.”
“I think not,” Elizabeth said sharply. “I know not! Nor do I know why you defend her, William, unless she has seduced you, too!”
Cecil said nothing.
The Queen turned to Hawke. “I married her to you so you might control her,” she snapped, now furious with him.
Hawke bent his head in obeisance.
Elizabeth faced Cecil. “Now what!?” she demanded. “Now what will we do?”
“There is naught we can do,” Cecil said calmly.
“Naught do do?” Elizabeth cried.
Hawke rushed forward. “Undoubtedly he has taken her to his island home far to the north. Your Majesty, I beg you, give me just three ships and one hundred troops and I will not just storm his island, I will destroy it—and him.”
Elizabeth was ready to agree. How she wanted to agree. But some innate caution stopped her—or was it affection for the amoral rogue? For she imagined beautiful Liam O’Neill skewered by Hawke’s sword and she hesitated. Then her good sense told her that Hawke could not defeat Liam O’Neill in a fight. Not hand to hand, not in a full battle. Anger filled her again. She doubted Hawke could even capture him.
However, no man was as powerful as a man moved byvengeance. If anyone could capture the damned pirate, ’twas John Hawke. She said sharply, “Is it not said that the island is completely defensible?”
Cecil nodded. “Those are the reports.”
Hawke snapped, “No place, and no man, is completely defensible.”
Cecil laid his palm on Hawke’s broad back. “There is no sense in storming that fortress for the sake of a woman, John. It cannot be taken, not without great loss and expense to us.”
Hawke was incredulous. “Good God!” he shouted. “Even now that bastard is using her—hurting her!”
Elizabeth turned away, thinking of the reports she’d had of Katherine. She had been more than eager the few times she had been espied in O’Neill’s embrace. Elizabeth could imagine her now, with him, clutching his broad back, accepting his wet, lusty kiss. Accepting all of him.
“I am sorry,” Cecil told Hawke.
Hawke rushed to confront his queen. He got down on one knee. “Your Majesty, I beg this boon of you. I must go after him! And if you do not wish to help me free Katherine, think on the fact that I will bring you Liam O’Neill’s traitorous head!”
Elizabeth looked into his burning eyes. “I am also sorry, John,” she said softly. “But Lord Burghley is right. I can not sacrifice men and ships for one woman—no matter how I wish to have that rascal’s head.” She did not add that she did not have the money to pay for such a venture, not unless she took it from far more pressing matters.
Hawke rose, his face set in an expression of angry disbelief. Without another word, without waiting for permission to leave, he turned on his heel and strode from the room. Elizabeth stared after him, sighing. Then she cursed Liam O’Neill. And finally, facing Cecil, tears appeared in her eyes. “How could he do this to me?”
Cecil took her hand. “My dear Elizabeth, the pirate knows he cannot have you. He is a man. Men must spend their lust somewhere and you surely know it. He is very fond of you, Bess.”
“Bah!” Elizabeth said, but she prayed Cecil was right. “What do you think he will do next?” The question burned. “Will he try to marry her?”
Cecil regarded her. “Unfortunately the Pope will not recognize Katherine’s marriage to Hawke, as it is outside the Catholic faith, and it would be easy for O’Neill to marry her in the papist fashion.”
Elizabeth paled even as she clenched her fists. “And the Pope would undoubtedly marry them himself,” she cried, “just to thwart me!”
“At the very least, he would give them his blessing,” Cecil agreed. Last year the queen had been excommunicated; it had been the Pope’s means of supporting the Catholic faction in Scotland. “Liam, though, is firmly Protestant.”
“His father was Catholic. That rogue could switch his faith easily enough, if he thinks to gain from such a maneuver.” Elizabeth paced, wide-eyed. “If he marries her, dear God, then that is proof of his conspiracy with FitzGerald, all the proof we need.” She wheeled to face Cecil. “I will not allow John Hawke to divorce her, even if Liam weds her himself!”
