To her amusement, several of the women were copying her idea of the year before, when she had come gowned in black velvet as “Night.” Some of them had been clever enough to reverse that role, so there would be at least half a dozen “Days” and four “Afternoons” as well. There were to be the requisite number of “Springs,” “Summers,” “Winters,” and “Autumns.” The Queen was coming garbed as “The Sun,” which was the worst-kept secret in all of London. The three ladies who had had the same idea had been taken by fits of hysteria when they had to change their gowns. “The Moon” and “Harvest” were also popular themes, but no one except Skye had thought of coming as a jewel. She was to be costumed as “Ruby.” As Daisy and her mother had made the dress in Devon, this was the best-kept secret in all of London. Geoffrey would be dressed as “Emerald” in dark green.
The night of the masque Skye stood before her pier glass more than pleased with what she saw. The deep-red gown was magnificent but not gaudy. The underskirt was silk sewn all over in a swirling ornate design with tiny rubies and gold thread that glittered with every movement of light. The overskirt was heavy velvet, the slashings in the velvet sleeves showing the matching silk of the underskirt and repeating the design of tiny rubies. The neckline was daringly low, causing the Earl to comment, “I do not know if I approve of your generosity in showing to the Court the sweet treasures that are mine alone to enjoy.” Skye had laughed and replied, “But mink of the envy it will cause, my lord.” He had laughed, “What a naughty vixen you are,” and suddenly placed about her neck a beautiful necklace of large rubies. “My Twelfth Night’s gift to you, sweetheart.” As she gasped, he bent and fastened matching drop earrings into her ears.
“Oh, Geoffrey!” Her hand touched the necklace reverently. “They are extraordinary.” Turning, she kissed him sweetly. The heady perfume of her body assailed him, and he felt a stab of desire. “For mercy’s sake, my love, thank me later! At this moment I am seriously considering the disarrangement of both your gown and your hair.”
She giggled happily, flushed with pleasure and excitement. “Oh, I love you!”
He forced his passion away and muttered, “I’d truly rather be home with you in Devon than here now, preparing to allow half of London to eat and drink me out of house and home as well as ogle my wife’s breasts.”
Skye laughed, delighted, then sat and allowed Daisy to put the finishing touches to her hair. The ladies of the English Court were currently frizzing their hair, but Skye would have none of that. Her own glorious tresses had been coaxed into a chignon at the nape of her neck. The chignon was decorated with red silk flowers. Her hair was parted in the center and two small curls, lately named lovelocks, dangled on either side of her face.
Skye stood up, satisfied, and pirouetted before her husband.
“Well, milord?”
“There is nothing I can say that you don’t already know, my pet.” She smiled. He asked, “What of me, madam? Am I not wormy of notice?”
Mischievously she eyed him as boldly as any gallant would eye a lady of his fancy, and the Earl’s mouth twitched with amusement at her mimickry. She circled him slowly, looking him up and down critically, and men said, “You’ve got the best-turned leg of any man at Court, my lord, and the emerald-green velvet compliments those superb eyes of yours. The ladies will be hard put tonight to remember you’re mine-but they had better!”
He bowed elegantly, acknowledging the compliment. Laughing, arm in arm, they descended the stairs to the great ballroom of Lynmouth House.
The first carriages were beginning to arrive, and Skye and Geoffrey stood regally at the top of the main staircase greeting their guests. The ballroom filled quickly. Even the Queen arrived early, escorted by the handsome Lord Dudley, among others. “We intend staying late, my dear Skye,” announced Elizabeth.
“You and Southwood give the best party of the year!” “It was to avoid disappointing Your Majesty that we returned to London-temporarily,” said Geoffrey. “Skye is not quite over your godson’s birth.”
“This ‘twill not tax you too badly, my dear?” questioned Elizabeth anxiously.
“No, madam. The sight alone of your dear face strengthens me,” replied Skye.
The Queen’s eyes twinkled. “What a perfect courtier you are, my dear Skye. Certainly a fit mate for Southwood!”
The Earl bowed at the compliment and offered his hand to Elizabeth as the first dance began. Lord Dudley partnered Skye. She did not really like the Queen’s favorite, a fact of which he was quite well aware. Unfortunately, her very aloofness excited Robert Dudley. He was a man who loved danger, and the thought of seducing this beautiful woman beneath the very noses of both Elizabeth and the lady’s husband was deliciously tempting.
Robert Dudley’s view of himself was such that it simply didn’t occur to him that he, the most popular man at Court, could be sincerely rebuffed. He blandly assumed that Skye was being coy, though there was nothing of the coy maiden in Skye’s personality. If he had known her well, Dudley would have realized this. As he partnered her his eyes feasted on the pearly luminescence of her skin, then plunged deep into her decolletage. What sweet round little apples she hid beneath her bodice. The perusal was all done quickly, for though Elizabeth had thus far denied him total possession of her royal body, she was a very jealous woman.
Skye ignored the greedy eyes that made her feel almost unclean. What she was unable to ignore were Dudley’s outright suggestive comments. “Why do you dislike me, my beauty? You would be wise to cultivate my favor.”
“I do not dislike you, my lord,” said Skye, looking at him evenly. But Dudley’s smirk of triumph faded when she continued, “But neither do I like you.”
“Then why the hell did you make me your son’s godfather?”
“You were my husband’s choice,” lied Skye. She was thinking, though I may antagonize you, my lord Boorishness, you’ll not take it out on my Geoffrey. “You see, my lord Dudley, I always obey my husband as a good wife should.” she finished demurely. “God, how your very virtue inflames me,” muttered Dudley.
“I do not seek to inflame you, sir.”
“But nevertheless you do, madam.” He shot a quick glance toward Elizabeth, but she was well occupied. Catching Skye off guard, he led her from the dance figure and guided her into a private alcove within the ballroom. Before she had recovered her shock, Robert Dudley’s arms wrapped quickly about her. Skye was outraged, and she struggled fiercely against him. “Sir! Loose me at once, my lord!” she demanded.
His low laughter was almost a growl. “No, my pretty Skye, I shall not. Enough of this coyness now, madam. I long to taste your ripe lips, and,” he lowered his head to kiss the tops of her heaving breasts, “these far sweeter fruits.”
She tried to free her arms. Revolted, she pulled away from him, but he tightened an arm about her while his other hand grasped and held her head in a firm grip. Desperately she tried to turn away from the lips descending on hers, but she couldn’t, and Dudley’s mouth ravaged hers wetly, trying to force passion where there was none. She dared not scream, for the enamored Queen would believe her the aggressor. Robert Dudley, of course, knew this. His tongue pushed past her teeth, thrusting deeply with obvious meaning. Confident, his hands were boldly lifting her skirts now, and knowing she had but one chance before he coolly raped her, she swiftly lifted her knee to find his vulnerable groin. She was rewarded by instant release, and a look of acute pain on Lord Dudley’s surprised face. Without a word Skye fled the alcove, her cheeks burning. She was fortunate that Dudley’s chosen rendezvous place had been secluded. Neither their entrance nor her embarrassed flight was observed. Snatching a goblet of iced wine from a passing footman, she forced herself to sip slowly while the beating of her heart dropped back to normal. She stopped before a mirror, set her wine down, and smoothed her hair and her gown with shaking hands. The filthy, arrogant bastard! How dare Dudley attack her? She had done everything to discourage him, but he could not be put off.