Stunned, Skye began to speak, but the Queen clapped her hands with delight. “Sir Robert, it’s an excellent idea! Yes! Yes! The wedding shall be tomorrow at Greenwich. You shall give the bride away, and I shall hostess the wedding party!”
“Majesty, we are honored,” said the Earl, placing a firm arm about Skye. “Are we not, sweetheart?”
“Aye, my lord,” said Skye loudly and sweetly. Then, while every- one chattered excitedly about them, she hissed, “I’d sooner have the pox than marry you!”
“Come, everyone,” cried the Queen. “If Mistress Goya del Fuentes is to be ready to wed at one o’clock tomorrow then we must leave her now. Away to Greenwich!” She turned to Skye. “My dear, you’re a delightful hostess. We have enjoyed ourselves so much. You shall be a credit to the Southwood family, I know. Lynmouth will escort me home. Hie yourself to bed and rest. I should imagine you’ll get little sleep tomorrow night if your betrothed’s reputation is fairly earned.” Chuckling, the Queen departed for her barge.
Skye rounded on Robbie furiously. “I’ll not marry him, do you hear? I’ll not marry him!”
“Indeed you will, Skye lass,” said Robert Small with infuriating calm. “Be sensible, my dear. He knows the truth of your past, and yet he loves you and wants to marry you. Think, Skye! You’ll be the Countess of Lynmouth. And think of the child you’re carrying. Refuse Lynmouth and no one will believe the baby is his, for what woman in her right mind would not marry her child’s father? Then the question will be asked whose child is it. And since you have not socialized with anyone it will be aasumed that you coupled with a groom or a footman. The child is lowborn, people will say. Then what will happen to Willow?” With every word he uttered she felt more and more trapped. “I’ll go happily off to sea now, knowing you’re safe, loved, and cared for, Skye.” he finished.
“Damn you, Robbie! If Khalid knew what you’d done-“
“He’d fully approve, Skye, and you know it,” snapped the gruff little man. “Come along now. The Queen is right, and you need your sleep tonight. Tell Daisy what gown you’d wear tomorrow so the maids may freshen it.”
“I will chose nothing!” she said stubbornly.
“Then I will, my dear. Come along now, lass.” He took her hand and walked her upstairs to her apartment. “Daisy, girl, to me,” he called, and the buxom maid appeared.
“Sir?”
“Your mistress is to be wed at one tomorrow to the Earl of Lynmouth. What in her wardrobe is suitable for a wedding gown?”
Daisy’s brown eyes grew round with awe and delight. “Oh, sir!
Oh, ma’am! How wonderful!”
Skye turned away sulkily and stamped into her bedchamber, where she threw herself on the bed. Daisy looked questioningly at Robert Small.
“Don’t fret, girl,” the captain reassured her. “Your mistress is simply in a mood. Let’s have a look at her wardrobe.” Daisy led the way to Skye’s dressing room. Robert Small’s mouth fell open. “Sweet Jesus!” he exclaimed, “I’ve never seen so many fine feathers in my entire life.”
Daisy giggled. “These are only the ones suitable for a wedding, sir. The simpler things are hung in another room.” Robert Small shook his head, then began to study the gowns. White was ruled out, for Skye was a widow. And somehow a bright color seemed inappropriate. Then his eye was caught by a rich, heavy, candlelight-colored satin. “Let’s see that one.” Daisy drew the gown forth and held it out for his inspection. The simple bodice was cut low and embroidered in seed pearls. The puffed sleeves, which ended just below the elbow, were slashed and the openings filled in with a fine cream-colored lace. Below the elbow the sleeves hugged the arm in alternating bands of satin and lace. The wrists were ruffled by a wide band of lace. The underskirt was embroidered with delicate seed pearls and tiny diamond flowers. The dress had a small, starched, heart-shaped lace collar edged in tiny diamonds that rose up behind the neck. The underskirt was a graceful bell shape.
“Aye, Daisy, my girl! This will more than do! See it’s pressed and ready by ten in the morning. Your mistress is being married in the Queen’s own chapel at Greenwich, and the Queen is giving the bridal feast afterward. They’ll also be spending the night there.” “Oh… sweet Mary, sir! Will I be allowed to go? My mistress will be needing me, I’m sure.”
“Aye, girl, you’ll go.”
The little maid nearly swooned in her ecstasy. “Lord, sir! Wait till me old mother hears that I’m maid to the Countess of Lynmouth! She’ll be so proud! Oh, sir! You don’t think Mistress Skye will want someone else, do you? I’m nothing but a simple Devon girl.” “Your mistress will want you, Daisy, never fear. See to the dress now, and have a scented bath ready for your lady at dawn. Wash her hair, too.”
“Yes, sir.” Gathering up the beautiful gown, Daisy left Robert alone. He walked back to the bedroom.
“Are you finished sulking, lass?” he asked.
“I never sulk!” she snapped, sitting up. “I simply dislike having my life settled for me by other people. Do I have no choice in this?!” “No, lass, not this time. You’re angry with Southwood, and so you seek to spite him by making his son a bastard. Yes, I do believe it’s a boy you carry. But the Earl has suffered enough, being caught in a loveless marriage, having his heir die. Without even knowing that his potent seed has already taken root in your fertile womb, he offers you marriage. It’s hardly an insult, my dear.” “And what of my wealth? Is it to be poured into the Lynmouth coffers along with that of his first two wives? No! No! I won’t be left helpless and dependent like poor Mary!”
Robert Small smiled a slow smile. “So that’s what’s bothering you, lass.”
“Part of it,” she admitted.
“Don’t fret, Skye lass, I’m not about to leave you helpless. The Earl directed me to have a marriage contract drawn up tonight, which he’ll sign in the morning. You’ll have to give him a good dowry, Skye, but the bulk of your wealth will remain in your hands. This house will remain in your hands, and I’ve made you my heiress, providing that if anything happens to me you’ll care for Cecily. That way you’ll have plenty for Willow.”
“Robbie! Oh, Robbie!” she began to weep softly. Embarrassed, he clumsily put his arms about her. “Give over, lass,” he muttered gruffly. “For pity’s sake don’t cry all over me. I like it better when you scream. Who else could I leave Wren Court to, Skye? You’re the daughter I never had, lass, and you’re as dear to me as if you were my own.”
“Thank you, Robbie. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” She wiped her eyes and Robbie tried to muffle a sniff. “Now listen to me, Skye. We’re giving Southwood twenty-five thousand gold crowns for dowry, and of course you come with your clothing, plate, and jewelry. All the rest of your wealth, the money Khalid left, the shares in our partnership, this house, and Wren Court remain exclusively yours. He can’t take them, so you are free and independent.”
“Will he sign such a contract, Robbie?”
“He’ll sign, lass. The Queen would have his head if he refused, for Young Bess is very much her own woman, like you.” He patted her shoulder. “It’s very late, Skye, well past midnight. Rest now, my dear. I will see you in the morning.”
“Which gown did you choose, Robbie?”
“The creamy satin with the pearl and diamond embroidery,” he answered, smiling.
“It’s the one I’d choose, were I interested in this marriage.”
He chuckled. “Sleep well, Mistress Goya del Fuentes. Tomorrow night you’ll be Lady Southwood, Countess of Lynmouth. Not bad for such an ugly wench.” He ducked the pillow she threw at him as he strode from the room, laughing merrily.
Chapter 17