“And what was she doing on a ship off the North African coast?” demanded the Earl.
“The O’Malleys have been great sea rovers for centuries. Her trading fleet had made inquiries of the Algerian government with regard to beginning trade. When the Dey of Algiers learned that the O’Malley chief was a woman he insisted on meeting her before he would continue their negotiations. Representing my father, I accompanied her on that voyage. A severe storm tore the Dey’s protective pendant from our mast, and when the storm ended we fought a sea battle with Barbary pirates. They didn’t know mat we were under the Dey’s protection. We had almost succeeded in driving them off when one pirate swung across the gap between the ships and carried off the O’Malley. Before we could retrieve her a fog bank separated the ships. I had been severely injured, and was taken to the island of Mallorca. The rest of the O’Malley fleet sought for Skye, with the Dey’s aid, but no trace of her was found.”
“And that,” explained Robert Small, “was because she wasn’t channeled through a regular slave market, but disposed of in a private sale.”
“Her family should be notified, Southwood. With your permission I should like to write to her uncle, who is the Bishop of Connaught. Captain Small and I thought that perhaps, after your child is born, you would tell her.”
“Lord Burke is a gentleman, Geoffrey,” said Robbie apologetically, “but since he was all for rushing to your house and telling Skye of her past, I found it necessary to explain her delicate condition to him.”
“I congratulate you on your good fortune,” said Niall feelingly.
“I understand you lost your only son recently.”
“Thank you,” said Geoffrey, softening a little.
Robert Small heaved a sigh of relief. They weren’t going to kill each other. “Well, gentlemen, we all have Skye’s interests at heart,” he said. “We’ve agreed then that Lord Burke will inform the O’Malleys of this happy turn of events, but that Skye will not be told until after the birth of her child.”
The two young men nodded their assent, and Robbie raised his goblet. “To Skye and her happiness!” he declared. Geoffrey Southwood smiled for the first time since entering the cabin, his green eyes meeting Niall’s silver ones. “That’s an easy toast,” he said, and Niall Burke smiled back, raising his own goblet. Suddenly, from outside the cabin there arose a small uproar. The piping voice of the little cabin boy was heard protesting in concert with a deep masculine voice. Southwood cocked his head. “Sounds like de Grenville,” he said. The words had hardly left his mouth when the door burst open to admit that gentleman. The little cabin boy was close to tears and clung valiantly to the nobleman’s doublet. “I told him he couldn’t come in, Captain! I told him!” “That’s all right, lad,” said Robert Small in a kindly tone. “I can see you’ve done your best, but in this instance you’ve been outgunned. Go back and guard my door again. You did well.” The boy wiped tears away with his sleeve. Saying “Aye, s-sir,” he took up his post again.
Robert Small turned coolly to de Grenville. “Well, Dickon, what is so important that you forced your way in here?” De Grenville shook his flowing lace cuffs free of imaginary wrinkles. “A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you, Robbie! Hello, Southwood… Burke. Mayhap you gentlemen will join us.” He turned again to the captain. “Robbie, fate smiled on you when it delayed your sailing. I’ve been sent word that the ‘Book Lady’ is to perform at Claro’s tonight, and I’ve obtained time in her bed for both of us!”
“The ‘Book Lady’?’ the Earl interrupted.
“Ah, Geoff, you’ve been so busy in the wooing of your new wife that you’ve missed this delicious phenomenon. She’s just appeared at Claro’s in the last few months. They say she’s a bored noblewoman, but she’s always masked so who’s to know for certain? Her manners are flawless, and she speaks like a noblewoman, so the gossip may be right.”
“Perhaps she’s just a good actress,” suggested the Earl. “I think she’s well bred. Her bone structure and skin texture are fine,” replied de Grenville.
“Why do they call her the ‘Book Lady’?” asked Niall Burke. “Ahhh,” breathed de Grenville again, “there’s the fascinating part. Let’s face it, gentlemen, a whore’s a whore, but the Book Lady is an artist. She’s got a naughty book from the Far East, filled with the most gorgeous illustrations of people fucking. If you desire, you pick a page and she’ll duplicate it with you. They say she’s expert in all she does, and she certainly loves her work. There’s been talk of her and Claro having a contest to see who can fuck the most men in a twenty-four-hour period. By God, Robbie! We’ve a good time ahead of us tonight! Southwood! Burke! Will you join us?” “No, Dickon, not I. What man married to my Skye would seek other entertainment?”
A hot pain pierced Niall.
“What excuse did you use to Skye when you came here?” asked Robert Small.
“That I’d a surprise for her,” answered the Earl, “and I do.” He drew forth from his doublet a large sapphire teardrop on a delicate gold chain. “D’you think she’ll like it?”
“A Ceylon blue! God, what a beauty!” ejaculated de Grenville.
“Aye, Skye will like it,” said Robert Small. “It matches her eyes.”
‘That’s just what I thought,” remarked the Earl, grinning, and again Niall winced.
Geoffrey Southwood stood and picked up his cloak. “Thank you, Robbie, and you, too, my lord Burke. Robbie, be sure you come to say good-bye to Skye before you sail.”
“I will,” promised the captain. Then he and the other two walked to the gangplank with the Earl.
At its foot waited a sailor holding Southwood’s chestnut stallion. After mounting, Southwood waved to Robert and rode off in the direction of the Strand. Lord de Grenville turned to his two companions. “Well, gentlemen, are you for Claro’s with me?” Robert Small nodded. “I could use an entertaining memory to warm me on the long and lonely nights of this voyage. Aye, Dickon, I’m with you. And you, Lord Burke? Claro has some of the loveliest pox-free girls in London.”
Niall considered a moment. “Aye, I’ll join you. I don’t think, however, that I’m up to your Book Lady. I’ll happily settle for a pretty lass who fucks well.”
De Grenville signaled his coach and the three men climbed in and were off. “Claro will fix you up right enough,” prophesied de Grenville. And Claire O’Flaherty, seeing the three men coming through her front door, panicked until she realized that, although she’d been a guest in the MacWilliam’s castle, she’d never met Niall Burke. As the daughter of a minor and impoverished vassal, Claire had not been considered important enough to merit the heir’s attention. So he would not know her. But Constanza must be warned. Claire ran lightly up the stairs to the beautiful room that showcased her star attraction. Constanza, having just arrived, was alone. She was rouging her nipples when Claire burst in. “Your husband’s here,” announced Claire, “but I don’t believe he’s come for you. He’s not angry or upset at all. He’s with friends.” “Who?”
“Lord de Grenville and Sir Robert Small.”
Constanza checked a small book open on her bedside table. “De Grenville and one guest are scheduled with me for the entire night,” she said. “Rose took the appointment. De Grenville said something to Rose about his friend going off on a long sea voyage.” “Then it must be Sir Robert,” said Claire, giddy with relief. “But if Rose got it wrong then I’ll send her up here and you get out fast. I’ll make your excuses. Unless, of course, you’d like your husband to know?” She glanced slyly at Constanza.