"Is Skye all right?" demanded Clarice, who had now come to her door.

"Both she and the child seem fine, but Maman has suddenly gone mad, I think."

The two sisters looked at one another, and then pushing past their brother, they hurried down the hallway. Adam quickly followed them, and they re-entered the apartments shared by the de Mariscos.

"Maman, what is it?" Isabeau cried.

"Maman, are you all right?" Clarice echoed.

"Yes, mes filles, I am fine, but I need you both here because there has been a miracle, and both of you can help me prove the existence of that miracle." Gaby picked up the newly born infant, which she had wrapped in a soft blanket. Carrying it over to Skye, she said, "Ma chère Skye, this is no child of Henri of Navarre. This child is of our blood, and I can prove it to you. Ma soeur," she said to Eibhlin, "take your niece a moment." She handed the baby to the nun and then Gaby bent down, lifted her skirts, and drew her undergarments down to bare her hip. "Do you see it?" she said. "Do you see the small mole in the shape of a heart, Skye?"

"Yes." Skye was puzzled.

Gaby dropped her skirts. 'That birthmark is the mark of the St. Denis women. Only women of our own blood have that mark. Isabeau, Clarice, show Skye your birthmarks."

The two sisters undid their gowns and, raising their nightdresses, each revealed a tiny dark heart upon the left hip just atop the bone. The mark was identical to that of their mother's. "All our daughters bear the same mark, Skye," Isabeau said.

"Before I married I was Mademoiselle St. Denis," Gaby explained. "That particular birthmark has shown up on the women in my family for at least ten generations. Musette also bears the mark, as does her little daughter, Aimée. I did not call Musette, however, since she does not know her brother's difficulty. Nonetheless, ma chère Skye, this baby you have just borne is my own true granddaughter, the child of my son, Adam." She turned to Eibhlin. "Unwrap the infant, ma soeur," and when the nun had done so, she handed the baby to Gaby. "Look, Skye! On the little one's left hip just atop the bone! The birthmark of the St. Denis women! There has been a miracle, ma fille! This is Adam's child, and no one else's!"

Skye looked at her daughter, and then she looked to Eibhlin, her voice confused. "Eibhlin, you are a physician. Can this be? Is it true? Is it even possible? Can this baby be Adam's daughter?"

Eibhlin looked closely at the newborn infant. The tiny dark heart atop the left hipbone was quite plain. There was no mistake about it. She took the baby, rewrapped her in the blanket, and handed her to her mother. Then, turning to Adam, she said, "Who told you that you could not have children, Adam?"

"'Twas an old herb woman," Adam said. "I had been ill with a very high fever, and she claimed that the fever had burnt all the life from my seed."

Eibhlin nodded. "An only half-accurate diagnosis, my lord. What I suspect is really the truth is that for a time your seed was lifeless, but nature sometimes has a way of reversing itself, and it is very possible that now, many years later, you have perhaps a small amount of life to your seed. I have heard of cases like yours." She looked down at the baby, and smiled. "She has your mama's nose. There is no doubt this child is of your flesh, my lord, but do not get your hopes high, for there is very little chance of your siring another child. You have been fortunate, and God has heard my sister's prayers, but, as your mother has said, this is a miracle!"

Adam de Marisco moved to Skye's side, and together they gazed wonderingly upon their daughter. "How do I thank you, sweetheart?" he said, and she heard the catch in his voice.

She shook her head, her eyes filling with happy tears, her own voice catching in her throat. "I… I can't believe it, Adam." Then she looked about the room and saw that both her sister and the others had tears in their eyes.

Finally Eibhlin managed to regain her equilibrium, and taking the baby from its parents, she said, "It is time that everyone went to bed. Is the cradle in the bedchamber?"

"Yes, ma soeur," Gaby said corning to herself. "Give me my newest granddaughter, and I shall put her in her cradle while you and Adam help Skye." She turned to her daughters. "Well, don't just stand there, you two! Go and open Skye's bed for her! Must I tell you everything?"

Isabeau and Clarice giggled, not one bit put out to be scolded by their maman. They felt giddy with happiness at the wonderful good fortune that had befallen their beloved brother and his beautiful wife. Hurrying into the bedchamber, they drew back the coverlet of the freshly made bed with its lavender-scented sheets.

Carefully Adam de Marisco lifted his wife up and carried her to their bed. Gently he set her in it and drew the covers over her. Skye's eyes were beginning to close as all the tension of the last months and the lengthy labor she had just endured caught up with her. She was asleep even as his lips softly brushed her mouth.

"Is she all right?" he asked Eibhlin.

"Yes," Eibhlin nodded with a kindly smile, "but she is very, very tired. Had this kind of a labor come when she was a girl I should be less concerned, but she is past thirty, Adam, and that is not a good time for a hard birth."

"Is there any danger, Eibhlin?"

"I don't believe so, for Skye has always been healthy. I am just cautious."

Eibhlin led them all from the bedroom, closing the door behind her as she went.

"Go back to your beds, mes filles," Gaby ordered her daughters. "I am certainly going to seek mine, and you, ma soeur, deserve a good rest also. I will see that the nurse is sent to watch the baby while we all sleep." Clarice and Isabeau hugged their brother and then departed the room, closely followed by Eibhlin and Gaby, who with tears in her eyes kissed her son, stating a final time, "It is a miracle!"

When they had left Adam de Marisco tiptoed back into Skye's bedchamber once more, and stood for several long minutes looking down at the sleeping form of the newborn child. His daughter! He had a daughter! Not some royal bastard that he would accept for Skye's sake, but his own child. It was a miracle. He wanted to pick the baby up and examine her carefully, but he was afraid to do so. They had all said she was a fine big girl, but to him she looked so tiny. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be time enough to become acquainted with his new little girl. He walked over to the big bed where Skye lay sleeping, and his heart went out to his lovely wife. She looked so very tired after her long ordeal. He had loved her for so long, and now he owed her a debt that he could never repay, for she had given him a child. Somehow he was going to get them home to England. Ireland, he knew, was totally out of the question, and Skye knew it, too. If there had been troubles in Ireland before, they were going to double in the next few years. Bending down, he kissed her lightly once more, and then went through the connecting door between the two chambers and sought his bed.

In his sleep Adam heard the baby whimper, and he was instantly awake, stumbling across the room and through the door. To his surprise and his relief, the nurse was already there. She smiled at him, and curtseyed. '"Tis all right, monseigneur. Go back to sleep." He gratefully complied, and the sun was halfway across the skies above Archambault when he finally awoke again. He had fallen into bed without even removing his clothing, although he had remembered to take off his boots. Now Adam peeked into Skye's bedchamber, and seeing his wife sitting up in her bed eating an egg, he hurried to make himself presentable. Stripping off his clothes, he called for old Guillaume to bring him water for washing, and while he bathed and trimmed his beard and mustache, the old valet laid out fresh clothing for his master which Adam hastily donned.

Her blue eyes lit up as he came into the room, and she smilingly held out her arms to him. "Bonjour, mon mari!" she said gaily.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her into his arms and kissed her passionately. "Je t’aime, I love you," he murmured softly at her. "You are the most marvelous woman in this world, Lady de Marisco!"

"Gracious," she teased him, "and what has made you so happy today, my lord?" But then Skye could not keep up the pretense, and she called to the nursemaid, "Ila, bring the baby for my lord to see. Oh, Adam, you should see her! She is so perfect!" Her own eyes were shining with joy and happiness, and he took her hand, raising it to his lips to kiss it.

"Merci, ma femme," he said. "Mille fois merci!"

Ila brought the baby from its cradle. Laying her carefully upon the bed, she said, "I shall go and get the extra linen I need if Madame will permit it."


"Yes, yes," Skye encouraged the nurse, and then she turned to her husband. "Look at her, Adam. Isn't she just perfect?"

He looked down at the swaddled little bundle with only its small, heart-shaped face showing. "I really can't tell," he said honestly. "Can we undress her?"

Skye unwrapped the baby from her blanket, and carefully removed the little shirt and napkin. Then she looked up at her husband. "Well?"

Adam de Marisco gazed down with wonder at his daughter. She was indeed perfection. She had plump little arms and legs and a fat little tummy. She was rosy and creamy with a thick headful of dark curls, and now when she opened her eyes he saw that they were a beautiful blue. She stared at him boldly, and with a soft chuckle Adam touched the baby with a gentle finger. Her skin was softer than anything he had ever known, and he was enchanted by it. "She's roses and ebony, ivory and white velvet," he said quietly.

Skye smiled at his pride as she carefully redressed and rewrapped the baby. The infant whimpered, and quietly her mother opened her gown and put the baby to her breast. Skye's milk would not be in for another day, but her breasts already tingled with a clear liquid that preceded the milk, and it was this nourishment she offered her daughter. Adam sat watching her, and he felt more at peace now than he had ever felt in his life.

"What are we going to name her?" he asked his wife. A name for the child was something that Skye had not been able to discuss while she believed it to be Henri of Navarre's baby.

"Would you like to call her after your mother, and she might have Marie as a second name as May is the month of the Blessed Mother?" Skye looked to her husband.