“What?!” Her wet jewel eyes flew open.
“Yes, my precious love. Wait. In time the terror will fade, and when it does I will be here, Skye. Be it a month from now, or a year. Or ten years.”
“You need an heir, Niall. Your father wants one so very much.”
“You’ll give me one someday, my love.”
“You’re mad.” But a small smile played at the corners of her mouth.
“Not mad, my darling, simply in love with a wild and sweet vixen who will eventually come home to me again.”
Suddenly she held out her hand to him. He grasped it, and felt her tremble, but she did not pull away. “Give me time, Niall. I will come back to you! I know now that I will! Just give me time.”
A wonderful warm smile lit his face, turning his mouth up at the edges, crinkling his silvery eyes at the corners. “Madam, I offer you whatever time you need, for I have surely never known anything better worth waiting for than you.” He bowed low over her slim hand, his cool lips gently brushing her skin, sending a small shiver- was it revulsion, or was it desire?-rippling through her. Then, straightening, he turned and left her chambers.
Skye stood frozen, barely breathing. He loved her! Despite it all, he still loved her! He was willing to wait! And now, as she felt the blood begin to course through her veins, wanning her as she had not been warmed since that terrible night, she knew it would be all right. The horrible memories were fresh, but she would heal even- tually. And when she did, Niall would be waiting!
On the following day the O’Malley thanked her overlord for his hospitality and, after a short ride to the coast, sailed home to Innisfana Island.
Within the month word came to the MacWilliam that the transition from the old to the new O’Malley had been made smoothly, and that the fleet was sailing once again.
So Niall Burke waited. The healing process had begun for Skye, and when it was complete they would be together forever. He would not go to her before then. There was plenty of time.
Chapter 7
A year passed, and Dom died. His death, though sudden, was not unexpected. With the loss of his legs he had lost the will to live. Claire O’Flaherty disappeared shortly after the visit of an English cousin, and only Gilly remained at Ballyhennessey, a sad shadow of his former self, content to spend his days and nights in a drunken haze. The estate was well managed by Frang, the bailiff.
The small, prosperous trading empire of the O’Malleys grew more prosperous through Skye’s skillful handling, and the MacWilliam was forced to admit that Dubhdara O’Malley had known exactly what he was doing when he had placed his daughter in charge. How she would behave in wartime was another matter, and he had yet to call upon her for that.
At nine, Michael O’Malley was more a priest than child, his calling so obvious that Skye finally sent him to school at the mon- astery of St. Brendan’s, preparatory to his entering the priesthood at sixteen. He would not take his final vows until he was twenty, by which time his two oldest half-brothers would have wed and probably produced heirs.
Brian and Shane, at seven and a half and six and a half, had begun the process of learning about the sea, about ships, and about their late father’s half-legal, half-illegal methods of doing business.
Brian was assigned to a ship named Western Wind, and Shane went aboard the North Star. Neither ship would ever be out when the other was also out, and occasionally the boys were at home at the same time, which gave Skye a chance to see her half-brothers work- ing together, and to evaluate them as they grew. Each was a true O’Malley, taking to the sea as to an old and respected friend. Skye wished her father could have seen them, for he would have been proud.
With the aid of Bishop O’Malley, and the donation of a fine manor to the Church, Niall Burke was finally given an annulment from his wife Darragh O’Neill, and she happily returned to her convent, where she quickly took final vows. On his son’s behalf, the MacWilliam sent to Seamus O’Malley and formally requested his niece’s hand in marriage. With her permission, the negotiations would begin at once.
“I don’t know now,” said Skye mischievously.
“Christ’s bones!” roared the bishop, for a moment so like his late brother that his niece burst into laughter. Looking very aggrieved, the bishop demanded, “What do you mean, you don’t know now? From the moment Niall Burke looked at you nothing would do but that you have him! Now you can, and you don’t know if you will? God Almighty woman! Make up your mind!” His plump face was red, and his blue eyes almost black with anger.
Skye’s laughter died in her throat. Kneeling, she leaned her silky head against the prelate’s knee. “It isn’t because I don’t love Niall, Uncle. I do. He is the only man for me, and he always will be. But I am no longer a girl whose only interest is her man and their babes. Perhaps I never really was.”
“Beware, lassie,” warned Seamus O’Malley. ‘This is the MacWilliam and his heir that we deal with. They are your overlords.”
“Let them beware also!” shot back Skye. “/ am the O’Malley!”
Seamus O’Malley mastered his temper. “What is it you want, Niece? Specifically.”
“My marriage must not affect my status as the O’Malley, and neither must my husband or my father-in-law interfere with that. The responsibility for the clan remains mine until I see fit to pass it on to one of my brothers. Da wanted it that way. I will not have the Burkes dabbling greedy fingers into the O’Malley coffers!
“I will come to them with a dowry worthy of a princess, but that is all they will receive. I want no interference by the Burkes into O’Malley affairs.”
The bishop nodded. “Tis shrewd you are, Niece, but I don’t know if we can get the MacWilliam to swallow such a big pill. He’s a sly old man.”
“Come, Uncle, you’re a brilliant negotiator. Did you not arrange with your ‘friends’ in Rome for Niall’s annulment. We both know the reason the MacWilliam seeks me for his son is not my bonnie blue eyes or my pretty tits. He looks to our ships, but they are not mine to give. They belong to my half-brothers, and I will not cheat my father’s sons out of their inheritance even to gain my own hap- piness. I offer that wicked old man a bigger dowry than any of his ’better-bred’ wenches, and I also offer him something even better than money, for I am a proven breeder of sons! Tempt him with that! For all his cleverness he has but one heir. I will give him half a dozen more.”
The bishop laughed. “You’re a very naughty wench, Niece. Your attitude toward the holy sacrament of matrimony is really quite shocking. I am tempted to pile you with penances.”
“I will accept them gladly, Uncle, if Niall Burke truly loves me.” She became deadly serious now. “This is what I must know. The last time he accepted his father’s will too easily, and did not fight for me. Now he must battle the MacWilliam to prove his love.”
“And if the MacWilliam refuses your terms?”
“He won’t. But if he did then Niall would wed with me anyway if he really loves me.”
“Very well, Skye. ‘Twill be your way.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” she replied meekly with downcast eyes, and he chuckled and fondly whacked her backside.
The MacWilliam angrily roared his outrage, but Seamus O’Malley stood firm. Even after Skye wed with Lord Burke she was to remain the O’Malley, and she was to retain complete control of O’Malley affairs.
“The O’Briens have a fine lass ripe for marriage,” said the MacWilliam slyly.
“The devil take her,” shouted Niall, and the bishop masked his smile. “ Tis Skye I want, and Skye I’ll have even if I must slit your scrawny throat!”