“Well, little girl, what news?”
“The ship is real! It’s the Santa Maria Madre de Cristos, and for the next week it travels alone and unescorted!” she burst out. “What! What of its escort?”
“There are none! In a week’s time de Grenville and four of the Queen’s warships disguised as merchant ships will join the Spaniard three days off of Cape Clear. Until then the Santa Maria is unprotected!”
“What’s her course?” de Marisco asked tensely.
“Southern Star.”
“It’s too good!” he began to pace. “De Grenville simply told you all that?” Adam was incredulous, his smoky blue eyes darkening. “I got him drunk,” she explained. “Dickon never could hold his wine. He always says what he shouldn’t when he’s drunk.” She was remembering mat long-ago evening when a drunken de Grenville had told her of the bet he’d made with Geoffrey. “Are you sure he was drunk?”
“Very sure, Adam.” She chuckled. When he looked at her strangely she said, “An old debt Dickon owed me has been settled by tonight’s information.”
“Where is he now?”
“Dickon? I gave orders to have the footmen carry both him and Niall to bed.”
“Your husband was drunk?”
“Yes. It was strange,” she mused. “I’ve never seen Niall unable to hold his wine. I hope he’s not sickening. More likely, he’s tired. He’s been out riding the estate for two days.”
“Do we go, Skye?” he asked.
“We go Adam. I’ve a feeling. Call it a hard Irish hunch, but if MacGuire and his men leave Lundy at once they can intercept the Spanish ship and be safely home before de Grenville and his men rendezvous with her.”
“And its cargo? Where do we store that impossible cargo, little girl?”
“Not Lundy, Adam. If the Queen’s men suspect us they’ll be all over your island, and losing you your head would be a poor way of repaying your friendship. Not here or Innisfana, either.” “Where, then?”
“Mshturk Island! The location of my sister’s convent, St. Bride’s. There are caves there that I discovered years ago when I-uh… spent some time visiting Eibhlin. MacGuire knows the caves, and the English will never think of looking there. In time we’ll smelt the gold and silver down. They can be easily disposed of in Algiers once they’re formed into bars.”
“This is the last time, little girl,” he said quietly but firmly.
“I know, Adam.”
“I’ll miss you, Skye O’Malley.”
“We needn’t stop being friends, Adam, simply because we’ll no longer be doing business.”
“Little girl, for such a smart woman you are sometimes a bit of a fool. It hurts me to see you and I know I can never have you. So when this business is done, I’ll not see you again. Lundy will be closed to you, Skye O’Malley.”
“Oh, Adam,” she said softly, looking up sadly into his face, “I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know that, little girl. It was always friendship for you, but for me it was more. You’re like a star, my darling: bright and beautiful and unobtainable. I am only a simple island chieftain, Skye O’Malley, not a star-catcher, but oh how I wanted to say to Hell with common sense and keep you for myself.”
Her face was wet and her blue eyes overflowed hot tears. He gently traced a tear down her cheek.
“Don’t ever stop being my friend, Adam,” she whispered. “Never, little girl!” he answered, and then his arms closed about her and his mouth came down on hers. He kissed her gently, yet passionately, and then quickly stepped back. “I never did get to kiss the bride. Farewell, little girl! I’ll get word to you when the operation is completed.”
Then he was gone, out onto the ledge, down the steps. Through the haze of tears she saw his boat draw away, heading out into the channel, bound for Lundy. Strong arms turned her then and she wept softly against the familiar velvet-covered chest. “I don’t suppose you’d care to explain to me why you’re meeting in this cave with that giant of a man?” asked Niall quietly. Skye cried harder and he continued, “I hope I’m not going to have to challenge him to a duel to protect my honor.”
“N-n-no!” she sobbed.
“Who is he, Skye?”
“A-A-dam de Marisco, the lord of L-Lundy Island.”
“Go on, love.”
She managed to bring her sobs under control and, sniffing noisily, sought for her handkerchief. He handed her his and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
“Should I be jealous?” he asked. She began to wonder how long he’d been standing in the shadows on the stairs. Blushing, she peeped up at him from beneath the thick fringe of black lashes. “You weren’t exactly fighting off his advances,” Niall noted humorously. “But every time I leap to conclusions about you I find myself standing hip-deep in the wrong. So if there is a reasonable explanation for your meeting secretly in a cave at night with an attractive man who seems to enjoy kissing you, I would enjoy hearing it.”
Skye sneezed, then sneezed twice again. Niall shook his head and, picking her up, started up the stairs. “You’ll tell me after you’re tucked warmly in bed,” he said. He carried her into her bedchamber. “I believe your mistress has caught a chill,” he told Daisy. “I’ve a hot tub ready, my lord,” she replied. “I’ll take care of her.”
“No, Daisy. I will. You’re dismissed for the night, lass.” Skye’s servant hesitated, then shrugged and obeyed. She would never, she decided, understand the gentry. She sometimes wondered if they understood themselves.
Skye kicked her shoes off and stood quietly as her husband unlaced her. “I thought you were drunk,” she said.
He smiled. “I thought you might. You were doing such a fine job of picking de Grenville’s brain that I didn’t think you needed me.” He got the gown unfastened, and drew it off her. Then he undid her petticoat and underblouse, and pulled them off too. Kneeling, he took her garters off and unrolled her stockings. When she was naked he picked her up and deposited her in the hot tub. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes. “I know,” he said, “that cave can be damnably damp and cold.” She murmured agreement and came close to purring when he began soaping her back. Niall’s mouth turned up again in a small smile. Less than half an hour ago he had stood in the shadows, on the cave stairs, and watched a strange man make love to his wife. A month ago he might have acted rashly. Now, however, he knew better. She loved him. He knew it, even if she wasn’t willing to admit it yet. He rinsed her back off with the sponge and moved on to the more interesting portions of her anatomy.
He felt his desire mounting but pushed his hunger down. First he wanted to hear her explanation. Lifting her from the tub, he wrapped her in a large towel and placed her on the settle by the fireplace. He took a smaller towel and rubbed her dry. Ignoring the pale-blue silken gown Daisy had laid out, he tucked Skye between the down feather bed and fox coverlet.
He undressed and washed himself lightly, then dried off and climbed into bed beside her. Turning to look at her, he said quietly, “Now, madam.”
“Adam de Marisco is my friend,” she said.
“Adam de Marisco is in love with you,” he returned bluntly. “But I was never in love with him,” she said. “It was he who insisted I marry again, and he has fussed at me ever since to make peace with you. I believe he sees your side of things better even than mine,” she frowned.
“I’m relieved to know that the lord of Lundy is on my side,” murmured Niall wryly, “but that still does not tell me why the two of you were meeting in secret.”
She sighed. “It began long before we were wed, Niall. After Geoffrey’s death, when Lord Dudley forced himself upon me, I complained to the Queen. In effect Elizabeth gave me to Dudley as a toy, for his pleasure. I will never forgive her for that, for all she is Queen of England. In fact, her authority ought to mean a greater sense of responsibility. I wanted revenge on her and I still do. The privateers who have been harrying this coast since last summer are mine, my O’Malley ships and crews. Adam de Marisco allowed us sanctuary on Lundy, and helped us to dispose of the cargoes.” “His price for this aid?” Niall managed.