“My new home is in a shocking state of disrepair, and despite
the fine dowry Da gave me, I am told that no money can be found
to put it to rights. Half the household items I brought to O’Flaherty
House, the silver bowls and candlesticks in particular, are myste-
riously missing. In short, I am the mistress of a dung heap peopled
by a vain and randy old cock, a vain and randy young cock, and a
flighty hen.”

Anne was shocked. “Do you want to come home until the child
is bom, Skye?” Sweet Mary! She couldn’t let Skye have her baby
in that place!

“God, yes! I do want to come home, but they’ll not let me for
the next O’Flaherty must be born in his own home, Anne. I would
appreciate it, however, if you could arrange for Eibhlin to come to
me immediately after Candlemass. Though the child isn’t due until
early spring, a late-winter storm at the wrong time could delay her.
and I would be frightened if she were unable to reach me in time.
Besides,” Skye smiled wryly, “I need the company. Claire is none,
and neither she, nor Mag, nor our old cook knows about birthing
a child.”

Anne was now very upset. “What of the other women in your
household? The maids? The laundresses? Is there no midwife in your
village?”

“The few women we can get to work for us come from our nearby
village each day and return to their homes at night. They love their
children, and no family would allow their daughters in my house
because of Dom and his father. They will work O’Flaherty lands,
and pay O’Flaherty taxes, and fight for the O’Flahertys, but too
many of their girls have been abused by the O’Flaherty men for
them to allow their daughters in our house. Even so, Dom and Gilly
have had their share of the poor creatures. They go out on horseback
and hunt them down while the girls are working in the fields! The
O’Flahertys’ reputation is so bad that even Claire has no tiring
woman of her own.”

“I knew it was all wrong from the beginning,” said Anne. “I knew
it!”

“Then why didn’t you speak to Da as you promised me, Anne?
You encouraged him to wed me off the very morning of Conn’s
birth!”

“No, no, Skye! That’s not so at all! I tried to tell your father right
after Conn was bom, but they’d given me herbs in wine to make me sleep, and your father misunderstood me. When I finally awoke
two days later, you were wed, and had already been sent to St.
Bride’s.”

“Then you did not betray me to get me out of the house?”

“You foolish goose! Whatever made you think such a thing? Once
you were firmly wed there was nothing I could do. I only wish your
father had waited. Even though he was firmly set on the match,
perhaps I could have prevented the afterward.”

“No,” said Skye softly. “At least with Niall Burke I learned that
love can be sweet-not true, but sweet. Had it not been for him,
I might have gone my whole life believing all men were animals.”

“Some men are more vigorous in bed than others, Skye.”

“Dom is a pig,” was the flat reply.

“Why do you hate Niall if you’re grateful to him?”

Skye’s eyes blazed blue fire, and her voice was rock hard. “Be-
cause be betrayed me! Because he swore he loved me! Because he
promised to have my marriage annulled, to wed with me. Instead
he crept from my side before the dawn without even so much as a
good-bye kiss and rode merrily home to wed his high O’Neill! I will
never forgive him for that, Anne! Never.r

In the silence that followed, Anne O’Malley struggled terribly
with her conscience. She knew the full truth. Finally she decided
that silence was the best policy. To tell Skye the truth now would
do nothing more than hurt and anger her further. Nothing could be
changed now. Skye was wed, and pregnant with her husband’s child.
Niall Burke was wed. If either of them learned now of the deception
that had been practiced on them it would only cause greater unhappiness.

Who knew what those two strong-willed, passionate people
would do if they ever learned the truth?

Anne was saved from further talk by the announcement that dinner
was served. Once in the banquet hall they separated, for in deference
to the O’Malley’s value to the MacWilliam, O’Malley and his wife
were seated higher up on the board than Skye and Dom, who were
seated much below the salt. Dom, however, cared not one whit, for
thanks to his wife’s beauty and wit, he was very much the center
of a gay group of young people, some of whom were well-endowed
wenches with bold eyes. He anticipated a pleasant Twelve Days of
Christmas.

And Skye sparkled, determined to show Niall how indifferent she
was. It seemed to those who sat in the more favored places at the
table that those below the salt were having a far better time than
those above it. There was simply no denying that young Lady
O’Flaherty was a delightful and charming beauty.

Skye ate carefully, taking of the first course only a thin slice of fresh salmon, and of the second only the wing of a lemoned capon.
She ate two small pieces of newly baked brown bread, liberally
spreading the butter across it with her thumb. Around her, the other
guests gorged themselves on dish after dish, but Skye was revolted
by the overrich menu. When the sweet was served she enjoyed a
small tart of dried peaches, licking the clotted cream from about her
mouth like a child. Watching her from the high board, Niall longed
to kiss that mouth as much as he longed to strangle her for her
perfidy.

As the meal drew to a close, more of those seated above the salt
began drifting farther down the table to cluster about Skye. Occa-
sionally great bursts of laughter issued forth from the group. When
the dancing began Skye refused all but the least strenuous dances,
but even so she never lacked for partners. She moved proudly, and
with much grace, her gown showing to great advantage. Her blue
eyes sparkled, and her smile flashed again and again.

At the high board Niall Burke sprawled in his chair, glowering,
his big hand clutching his jewel-studded goblet so hard it was a
wonder the stem was not bent. His silver-gray eyes, pantherlike,
half closed, followed her wherever she went. Occasionally he took
great gulps of the dark red wine, emptying and refilling his cup
several times. She was beautiful, damn her, and even in her present
state outrageously desirable.

“Young Lady O’Flaherty is most popular,” ventured Darragh.

“Aye,” he growled, suddenly standing up and striding away from
his wife to join the dancers. The young man partnering Skye suddenly
felt a hard hand on his shoulder. Looking up to see his scowling,
black-browed host, the young man quickly stepped aside. Niall
clamped an arm about her waist and took one of her hands in his.
Her smile faltered, but she never missed a step.

“Should you be dancing?”

“I am expecting a child, my lord. I am not mortally ill with a
wasting sickness.”

“You’ve changed, Skye.”

“Nay, my lord. I have simply learned not to put my faith in pillow
talk.”

They separated, and she wove in and out of the figure, meeting
him again on the other side.

“I find it hard,” he said, “to understand the workings of a fickle
woman’s mind. You behave as though I rejected you instead of the
other way around.”

“You betrayed me. You left me without even a good-bye, and
hurried home to wed and bed your ‘dead’ fiancee! I had no chance
to reject you, but I do now!”

“I was not betrothed to Darragh O’Neill until after your marriage,
Skye. It was her dead sister, Ceit, who was to be my wife.”

Again they were separated by the figure. When they met again,
he said, “I would never have wed Darragh had it not been for your
letter.”

Skye stopped dead. “What letter?” she demanded of him.

One look at her face told Niall Burke that something was very
wrong, but they were in a roomful of people, some of whom were
eying them with speculative curiosity. “But of course you’re ex-
hausted, in your condition, Lady O’Flaherty. Allow me to escort
you to a seat, and get you some chilled wine,” he said loudly, leading
her from the floor. He found her a seat within a windowed alcove.
Though they were plainly visible to the entire room, they had the
privacy to talk without being overheard. Niall snatched two goblets
of wine from a passing valet, and handed her one.

Understanding the need for deception, she leaned back with half-
closed eyes feigning exhaustion. Her heart was hammering, not from
weariness but from the sudden realization that they had probably
been tricked. “What letter?” she asked again.

“I did not leave you willingly, Skye. Your father sent a little lad
up the vine outside your window, and the boy opened your bed-chamber door to the O’Malley and his men. I was gagged, and taken
from the room. I explained our plight to your father, but he would
not listen. Rather he had me knocked unconscious, and taken home
by one Captain MacGuire. The next day I was given a letter in which
you repudiated our relationship. For God’s sake, Skye, the handwriting was feminine, and I recognized the seal as the one on your
own ring.”

“We all have these rings, Niall. All my sisters, even Eibhlin.”

“I did not know,” he sighed deeply. “It would seem, my love,
that those two old spiders, our fathers, have gotten their way by foul
means. Damn them both!”

“Do you love her, Niall?”

“No. She was to be a nun, and in her heart she still is. She spends
more time on her knees than in our bed.”

“I’m glad!” she said fiercely, and he understood.

“The child-?”

“Is Dom’s. There is no doubt, Niall. I swear it! Do you think I
would be here if it were not?”

“Have you learned to love him then?”

“I will never love him, but I am his wife as you are Darragh’s
husband,” she said quietly. “And now, my lord, bid me good night,
for we are fast becoming the center of curiosity in the hall and I see
Dom coming.”

“I will find another opportunity to speak with you,” he said. He
did not leave her side, but stood waiting until Dom joined them.
”Your wife is fatigued from the dancing, O’Flaherty. You must take
good care of her since she carries your heir. You’re very fortunate
in that respect.”

Dom, taken off guard, was speechless. Niall bent over Skye’s
hand, briefly but tenderly kissing it. “Good night, Lady O’Flaherty.”
Then he was gone across the floor to rejoin the dancers.

“Will you escort me to our room, Dom? I am very tired.” She
fought to keep her voice flat. Dom must not know! Not even suspect!

“Of course, my love,” he answered, his voice sweet. Helping her
up, he walked her slowly from the hall. When they had gained their
room she asked him to call her maid. “Nay, love, I’ll maid you
myself, Skye.” His voice had become soft and caressing. It was a
dangerous sign. “There wasn’t a woman tonight who could compare
with you,” he murmured. “Every man envied me my beautiful wife.
Every one of them imagined what it would be like to stick himself
in you, but I’m the only one who can do that, Skye, aren’t I?” He
had her bodice unlaced now, and drew it off. His fingers swiftly
drew her gown and her petticoats down and off. Then her chemise,
and finally she stood naked and shivering in her embroidered stock-
ings with their gold ribbon and silk rosette garters. Slowly he let his
eyes wander over the new fullness of her breasts, and the sweet
swelling of her belly. His hand caressed the living roundness, and
Skye, barely breathing, prayed he would be satisfied by this show
of ownership.

“Kneel on the edge of the bed, Skye.”

She shivered. “Dom, please! It’s not good for the child.”

“Kneel, you little bitch! Or do you want me to believe what my
eyes told me when I looked across the hall tonight to see the fine
Lord Burke bending solicitously over my wife, ogling her tits? And
you! You encouraged him!”

“No! I didn’t!” Every muscle in her body tensed. Then, sighing,
she knelt on the edge of the bed, her knees drawn up beneath her.
Her hands were clenched into tight balls. There was no fighting him.
Resistance brought further punishment.

He looked down at her, so meek, so obedient. He was angry with
her, and tempted to sodomize her, for he knew how she hated that
particular degradation. But he feared for the child. It was his son,
and it bound her irrevocably to him. Without the child she might
run to Niall Burke and become his leman, making the O’Flahertys
the laughingstock of all Connaught.

He did no more than loosen his codpiece and his organ, swollen
already, burst forth. He saw her shiver again, and the feeling of power her fear gave him aroused him further, He easily found his
way inside her, sliding his hands beneath her breasts to play with
the very sensitive nipples while he moved himself with long smooth
strokes. “Your hound does it mis way to the bitches in my kennel.
I’ve watched him many a time,” he murmured, biting the back of
her neck. She said nothing. To her relief he was finished quickly.
”I’m going back to the hall now,” he said. “Get some rest, Skye.”
Fastening his clothes, he was gone.