For a few moments she lay quietly, her face wet with silent tears. Then she stood and, removing her stockings, wrapped herself in a soft woolen robe before lying down again. If she could have boiled her body she would have done so, but even that would not rid her of the memory of his touch, the smell of his lust on her skin.
She could not stop the tears from flowing. It had all been too much. Learning that her father and the MacWilliam had conspired to keep Niall from her had come close to breaking her heart all over again. It had been easier when she could simply hate Niall. Ex- hausted, she slept.
The sudden sound of the door latch rasping woke her and she tensed. Dom was back, and probably drunk. She lay quietly, hoping he would believe she was sleeping.
“Skye,” came the soft whisper.
“Niall!” She sat up. “Are you mad? In God’s name go quickly before Dom returns! Please, my lord!”
He shut the door quietly and drew the bolt closed. “Dom is lying in the hall in a drunken stupor with his friends. My page is watching. Should Dom awaken the lad will warn us long before he can get here.” Dearest Heaven, she was beautiful, her black cloud of hair swirling about her shoulders, her eyes enormous and dark with con- cern. Niall sat on the edge of the bed and drew her into his arms. ”You’ve been weeping.” It was a statement.
“It was easier when I thought you’d betrayed me,” she said softly, believing he would understand.
“For me also, my darling.” He reached out and caressed her dark hair.
“Your wife-T She had to ask.
“Is keeping one of her interminable vigils in the chapel. She does it to avoid me, but I care not. Bedding her is like bedding a dead thing.”
“Oh, Niall…” Her voice broke, and she buried her face in his shoulder.
“Skye! Ah, love, don’t weep! Damn, Skye, you’ll break my heart!” His mouth gently found hers. Sighing deeply, she slid her arms about his neck, and gave herself over into his keeping. His hand found the swell of her breast, and it seemed so natural, so right. She pulled her lips away from him long enough to whisper, ”Yes, Niall! Oh, please love me!” Then her mouth fused fiercely to his again, and she was lost in a burst of searing passion that swept over her body instantly, nearly rendering her unconscious.
His hand gently caressed the ripening mound. “I wish to Heaven he were mine,” he muttered huskily. “God! You’re so beautiful with the babe growing in you, like one of the old Celtic fertility god- desses.”
“I prayed so hard,” she whispered. “When I was at St. Bride’s I prayed you’d gotten me with child. How I wept when I found it wasn’t so. Eibhlin says they feared for my sanity. Then Dom came…” her voice trailed off.
“I’ll kill him,” Niall said quietly.
“And what of your poor wife? Would you kill her also? What harm has that unfortunate creature done to either of us? You say she was to be a nun, and from what you tell me she had a true vocation. Has she not been harmed as deeply as we?” Skye drew a deep breath and pulled away from him, her blue eyes intent. “Niall! Oh, Niall, my love! We are inescapably wed to other people. There is no hope for us. I love you, Niall, but when I return to Ballyhennessey I want never to set eyes on you again. I cannot see you and keep my love for you from the world. Dom is already suspicious. I want no trouble between the two of you, for he is foolish and apt to be treacherous. I am not so innocent as to beg that you forget me. We will not forget, either of us, but we must part.”
He pulled her back into his arms. “I cannot bear to lose you again,” he said brokenly.
“Oh, my love, you never really had me,” she answered sadly.
For a few minutes longer they clung to each other, unwilling for the bittersweet interlude to end. Then, kissing her tenderly, he laid her back against the pillows. “I’ll find other times during this visit when we can talk,” he said. “Promise me one thing, though. Promise me you’ll ask my help should you ever need it. I will not rest easy if you do not give me your word, Skye, and swear to it. I’ll not have O’Flaherty mistreating you.”
“I do not fear Dom. As long as I play the beautiful and docile wife for him in public, his vanity is fed enough.” She would not tell him the truth, tell him of her husband’s degrading ways in their bed, for it would only infuriate Niall and there was nothing he could do about it. “Sit with me but a moment longer,” she begged. Smiling, he took her hand. She closed her eyes. Soon she was asleep. Gently drawing the featherbedding over her, he unbolted the door and slipped from the room.
Making his way back to the banquet hall, Niall dismissed his page for the night. Then, turning to seek his own quarters, he almost collided with a young squire. “Your pardon, my lord, but the MacWilliam would see you.” Niall nodded and immediately sought the old man’s rooms.
He found his father sitting up in bed, a nightcap upon his leonine head. His gouty foot was freshly bound, and he held a goblet in his hand. Niall bent and sniffed the cup. “I thought malmsey was bad for your foot,” he noted.
“That quack of a doctor tells me everything is bad for my foot. I suppose if I could still fuck he’d tell me that was bad for my foot also,” was the flinty retort. The MacWilliam paused. “I would say that the beauteous young Lady O’Flaherty is bad for more than your foot, Niall, my son.”
The two men eyed each other, and the MacWilliam sighed. “I was wrong to force you into marriage with the O’Neill lass. I can see O’Malley’s girl would have made you a better wife. Christ! Wed seven months, and already with child! And she carries the babe well. What a breeder! She’ll give O’Flaherty a houseful of sons, and still have a waist a man could span with his two hands. And what a beauty… that hair, and those Kerry-blue eyes, and those marvelous tits! Damme, I wish I weren’t so old!”
Niall laughed, but his father now continued in a more serious tone. “Keep away from her, Niall. O’Flaherty won’t wear the horns of a cuckold gracefully. He’d kill you if he catches you with his wife. I know you were with her in her bedchamber tonight while her husband lay drunk in the hall. Be careful, lad! You’re my only son, my heir, and I love you. Until you get a legitimate son, we’re not safe.”
“Rest easy, Father. Skye and I but talked. If we had done it in public the gossips would have had a field day.”
“You talked?! God’s nightshirt! If I were twenty years younger and alone with that beauty, it would not have been talking I’d have been doing!”
Again Niall laughed. “Come, Father, she’s six months gone with child.”
“There are ways, boy.”
“I know, and perhaps if the child were mine-but it’s not. Be- sides,” and here Niall eyed his father firmly, “finding out the trick that you and O’Malley played to separate us has made Skye very vulnerable. I would not hurt her further. I love her.”
“If she lost the babe then she’d be free of O’Flaherty,” said the old man slyly. “His wife, yes, but free to come to you… and she would. I’d recognize any bastards she gave you as my heirs, for I strongly doubt the O’Neill girl will ever conceive.”
“Don’t tempt me, Father. If you think Skye worthy to bear our heirs, then surely she is worthy of our name as well. You see her as nothing but a brood mare who will secure our immortality, but I love Skye. I have never wanted any woman but her for my wife.” He took a deep, ragged breath. “But O’Flaherty is strong and healthy. He will probably live forever. She and I have no hope.”
“His death could be arranged… but you’re too noble for your own good, Niall! Love has made you a weakling. If you don’t mean to claim the woman for your own, then keep away from her else her husband kills you in a fit of jealous rage,” growled the old man.