Their rhythm quickened and then the blazing white light of the
dawn blended with the pulsing golden light in her mind as he brought
her twice to perfect fulfillment. She cried his name and felt his strong
arms about her, heard his voice soothing her, his lips kissing away
the salty tears she hadn’t even been aware of shedding.

“You are mine, and I am yours,” she said finally, easily.

“Aye, sweetheart,” he answered. “We belong together, and we
will be together. In the spring I shall beg leave from the Queen and
take you down into Devon to my home.”

“But your wife-“

“Mary and her daughters do not live at Lynmouth,” he said. “It
is you who shall be its mistress.”

That afternoon they left their secret sanctuary at the Ducks and
Drake and rode back to London. The day was cold and windy and
overcast, and threatened snow again, but they were happy.
- “I want you to move into my house,” he said as they rode. “The
apartment next to mine is for the Countess of Lynmouth, and we
will redo it for you.”

“I don’t know, Geoffrey. I have my own home, and I plan to bring my daughter up from Devon soon. I haven’t seen her in several
months. She should be in her own house, not in yours.”

“Then keep Greenwood, darling, but let me redo those rooms for
you. You can travel easily between the two houses using the un-
derground passage beneath the garden. You can be with your little
girl during the day, and with me in the evenings.”

“Very well, Geoffrey, as long as I may keep my own home. But
until the rooms are redone I will remain at Greenwood. Will you
dine with me this evening?”

“I will, sweetheart, but first I must return to Court and pay my
respects to Her Majesty.”

Soon they turned their horses into Greenwood’s driveway.

“Welcome home, ma’am,” called the gatekeeper.

Skye threw him a smile and waved. Approaching the house, Skye
was pleased to see a groom hurry from her stables. As they reined
in their horses the Earl dismounted and lifted her down from her
horse. His arms remained wrapped around her and, flushing prettily,
she looked up at him.

“Do you love me, Skye?” he demanded softly.

“I love you, Geoffrey,” she answered, her bright blue eyes never
wavering from his.

“And will you be my lady fair, sweetheart?”

“Yes! Oh, yes!”

He bent and kissed her lingeringly, lovingly. “I’ll send word
when I can come this evening,” he said. Mounting his stallion again,
he cantered off down the drive.

She entered the house dreamily.

“So you’re back, and looking as dewy-eyed as any foolish maid.”

“Good day to you, Robbie.” She smiled sweetly at him. “Come
have a glass of wine with me.”

“Wine, is it?” he grumbled, following her upstairs to the little
salon.

“Yes, wine! Wine to celebrate the fact that I’m in love! Oh,
Robbie, I’m in love again! I never thought I would be able to love
after I lost Khalid, but I love Geoffrey!”

Lord have mercy, thought the sea captain as Skye, humming a
tuneless ditty, poured out generous portions of ruby-red wine for the
two of them. Robbie sat slumped in a chair, his gaze on the floor.
How can I tell her what de Grenville told me while in his cups last
night? he thought. How can I tell her that Southwood seeks to make
her his mistress in order to satisfy a bet? Now the bastard’s gone
and captured her heart. Damn! I’d rather be in the middle of a
South Atlantic hurricane! He raised his eyes slowly.

She raised her goblet high. ‘To my Lord Southwood! Long life!”
she toasted.

Robbie raised his goblet lifelessly. “Aye,” he answered tone-
lessly. Christ! She’s so happy! I haven’t seen her happy since Khalid
died. Ah, hell! It’s too late for me to save her from him. Let her find
out on her own. Let her be happy for now. He gulped down his wine
and sat back against the velvet cushions.

“I’ve news too,” he said. “We’re to see the Queen and Cecil the
day after Candlemas. We’d best have that first voyage mapped out
by then.”

She was suddenly all business. “Have you decided where? And
what?”

“Jewels and spices. In case of shipwreck,” he crossed himself,
”at least we can save half the cargo. We’ll go down and around the
Horn into the Indian Ocean, across to the Spice Islands, for a cargo
of pepper, clove, nutmeg, mace, and ginger. Then on to Burma for
rubies, for the best rubies come down to Rangoon from Mogok in
the central part of the country. In India we’ll take on cardamom,
diamonds from the Golconda, and pearls. In Ceylon there’s cinna-
mon and sapphires to be had.”

“Be sure,” said Skye, “to buy only the Kashmir blue sapphires.
Khalid always believed their color was the best.”

“I know. It’s going to be a long voyage, lass. I may not be back
for a year or even two, depending on conditions.”

She smiled at him affectionately. “You look forward to it, Robbie,
don’t deny it. You’ve been landlocked for almost two years now
and your feet itch to walk a deck. It’s all right, my dear, I understand,
and it’s time for you to go. I am so grateful to you for your friendship,
but I am myself again at last, and I must build my own life.”

“I know, lass, but I don’t want you hurt, or taken advantage of
by anyone. That damned trick memory of yours worries me. In many
ways you’re still an innocent.”

“I have Geoffrey now, Robbie.”

“Rely only on yourself, Skye! Love Southwood if you must, but
put your trust in no man!”

“Robbie! How cynical you are!”

“Not cynical. Truthful.”

There was a scratching at the door, and Skye called out, “Enter.”

A footman brought in a piece of paper on a small silver tray.
Skye took the folded parchment and opened it. “Damn!” she said.

“What is it?”

“Geoffrey has been called away.” She turned to the footman.
”How was this delivered?”

“One of the Earl’s grooms, mistress.”

“You may go.”

The servant turned and left.

“What does he say, Skye?”

“Very little,” she said, frowning. “Just that there’s a problem in
Devon.”

“You could probably use a good night’s sleep,” remarked Robbie
wryly, and she laughed at his irreverence.

“Considering your reputation as a swordsman, this is surely a
case of the pot calling the saucepan black,” she teased.

He guffawed heartily.

The days sped by. She heard nothing from Geoffrey. And then
came the day of her appointment with Cecil and the Queen. She
dressed elegantly but soberly. William Cecil, Lord Burghley, Her
Majesty’s chief advisor, was not a man to be swayed by a show of
bosom. Her gown was dark-blue velvet, its severity relieved by a
small white lace ruff at the neck. The sleeves were slashed and edged
with gold, her white silk underblouse showing through the openings.
She wore a gold chain interspersed at intervals with small flat plaques
of carved white coral roses. Her shining hair was parted in the center
and drawn into an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck.

The river was frozen solid, so they went to Greenwich in Skye’s
coach. Cecil awaited them in a book-lined room. He wasted no time
but came directly to the point. “If we grant you a royal charter, what
does Her Majesty gain?”

“A quarter share in the cargo, an accurate map of the area-for
we’re carrying two cartographers on each vessel-and of course
we’re available to do any errands Her Majesty may require along
our route,” replied Robert Small.

“How many ships?”

“Eight.”

“That will be the number going. How many will you bring back?”

“Six at the minimum.”

“You overestimate, I think, Captain Small,” snapped Cecil.

“No, my lord. I don’t. Barring a typhoon, I will actually return
with all eight. But a serious storm could lose me one or two.”

“What of pirates, or mutiny?”

“My lord, every captain in my fleet has been with me for several
years, as have all my ships’ crews. These men are used to working
together under both good and bad conditions. They are a loyal and
disciplined lot, unlike most crews. They’ll bring their ships through
Hell if necessary, but they’ll bring them home to England.”

Cecil smiled thinly. “Your confidence is commendable, sir. I shall look forward to being amazed.” He turned to Skye. “And
where, madam, do you come into this?”

“I finance it,” said Skye quietly.

“You must have great confidence in Captain Small,” said Cecil
drily.

“I do, sir. He was my husband’s partner for some years, and
never failed him once.”

“And your husband was…?”

“Don Diego Indio Goya del Fuentes, a Spanish merchant of Al-
giers.”

“The Spanish ambassador claims never to have heard of him,
madam.”

“I would hardly think the Spanish ambassador to the English
Court would be well acquainted with the residents of Algiers, my
lord,” said Skye coolly.

“Perhaps not, madam. I merely mention it in passing. It is my
duty to protect my Queen.”

“If you feel, my lord Cecil, that this venture is a danger to your
Queen, or would bring some discredit upon her, then I shall withdraw
my request for a charter, and you must rule against us with Her
Majesty. However, to do so casts doubt upon not only my hon-
or, but on Sir Robert’s as well. I am but newly come from Algiers,
but Captain Small has always been a loyal and good servant of En-
gland.”

“Madam, you misunderstand me. I merely said that King Phillip’s
man knew not of your late husband’s family.”

“Why should he? My husband’s family came to Algiers several
generations back. The original Goya del Fuentes was, I believe, a
younger son. There is still a branch of the family in Spain-near
Granada or Seville. I can never remember which.”

Cecil sighed, exasperated, and Robbie hid a smile. Skye was
doing a fine job of confusing the chancellor. It relieved him to see
her fast thinking. Now he need not fear leaving her when he went
back to sea.

“Really, my lord,” Skye allowed a slightly annoyed tone to creep
into her voice, “what it is that bothers you I cannot imagine. I ask
for nothing other than Her Majesty’s sponsorship. In return I offer
her a quarter share of the profits, the latest mapping of the area, and
my ships will be bringing to the peoples of the East word of our
Queen’s greatness. This hardly seems to me a suspicious undertak-
ing.”

“Dammit, madam, you deliberately twist my words!” roared Cecil.

“Do I indeed, sir? Pray then, enlighten me as to exactly what it
is you do mean.”

A burst of tinkling laughter interrupted them, and from a shadowy
recess in the room the Queen quickly appeared.

“Do not mind Cecil, Mistress Goya del Fuentes. He is overcau-
tious of our welfare, and we are appreciative of his efforts. Although
we might do without any other of our servants, we could not do
without him. Come, my friend, you need not know the lady’s pedi-
gree in order to do business with her. Our treasury is not so full that
we cannot use the profits from this voyage, and it costs us nothing
more than our goodwill. Captain Small’s record speaks for itself.”

“Very well, my lady Queen. I will see the charter is granted if
you so desire.”

“I do, my lord Cecil. Work out the pertinent details with Captain
Small. Mistress Goya del Fuentes will come and have a glass of
wine with us.” The Queen strode from the room and Skye, after
curtseying to Cecil, followed her.

As the door closed upon the women the chancellor remarked,
”She’s a beautiful woman, Sir Robert, and she has a brain. Her
Majesty approves of intelligent women.”

“She is the daughter I never had,” replied Robbie.

“Indeed,” murmured Cecil. “Then are you aware that she spent
several days and nights in mid-January with Lord Southwood at the
Thameside inn called the Ducks and Drake?”

“I am,” said Robbie, his anger beginning to rise. “You seem to
be keeping a rather close watch on an unimportant and harmless
young woman, my lord.”

“A woman of Irish descent who was wed to a Spaniard… both
traditional enemies of England,” Cecil observed drily.

“And is Lord Southwood also under suspicion?” snapped the
captain.

“Only to the extent that a valuable servant of the Queen might
be subverted.”

Robert Small was on his feet. “By God, sir! I’ll hear no further
slander against Skye! She has suffered greatly, and yet remains a
sweet and good lady. There is not a devious or disloyal tendency
in her, I assure you.”

“Sit down, sit down, Captain Small. Our own investigations have
borne out your words. I would, however, like your personal thoughts
about her relationship with Lord Southwood. You need divulge no
confidence, of course, but the Earl is a valuable man to the Queen.”

“He claims to be in love with her,” answered Robbie, “and God
help her, for she’s in love with him.”