All the Sweet Tomorrows (88 page)

“I should have done Your Majesty no honor had I not bathed and attired myself in my finest clothes, madam. I am not so ill bred as to arrive before you smelling of sweat and the sea.”

“You claim to do me honor, madam, and yet I sense that you actually defy me,” Elizabeth grumbled. “But enough! You will stay for the evening meal, and you will tell me about the Duc d’Alençon. He seeks to marry me, y’know.”

“In France they speak of nothing else,” Skye said demurely.

Elizabeth Tudor preened, and then with girlish enthusiasm asked, “What is he really like?”

“He is an amusing man, madam. I believe you would find him quite compatible.”

“Amusing?”

“He has wit, Majesty, or at least as much wit as any son of Catherine de Medici could have.”

“They say he is badly pock-marked.”

“He grows a beard even now to disguise it, madam. He is an attractive man, and a great favorite with the ladies.”

Cecil listened to Skye and marveled. One moment she gave to the Queen, and in the next instant she took away. The duke was charming, but he was his mother’s son. He was pock-marked, but handsome. He longed to be with Elizabeth, but the ladies of the French court would be desolate when he left them. Cecil smiled. This woman was definitely the Queen’s equal, but that was a thought he would keep to himself.

Leaving the Queen’s closet, they adjourned to the dining hall where the court was awaiting the arrival of Elizabeth Tudor. The Queen had now transferred her attentions to Adam, and Skye was left to herself.

“As fair as ever,” a displeasingly familiar voice murmured in her ear, and Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester, came around her into her view.

“As lecherous as ever, I’ve not a doubt,” she returned, irritated as his eyes plunged boldly to fasten on her breasts. “You look as if you would eat me, my lord. Is there not meat enough at the Queen’s board to satisfy you?”

“Only you could ever satisfy me, Skye.”

“Only you, my lord, could ever revolt me so much with your want of delicacy.”

“Ah, you Celtic bitch, as always your refusal of my passions ignites me with desire,” he exclaimed, backing her against the wall. His arms pinioned her while his head dipped to press hot, wet kisses across the tops of her breasts.

Remembering a similar situation of several years earlier, Skye thought with a wicked little smile:
The fool never learns
, and then she brutally jammed her knee into the Earl of Leicester’s groin. She was rewarded by instant release, and the silly, pained, surprised look upon his face. Calmly straightening her gown, Skye pushed past him, saying, “Dudley, I can’t believe you don’t remember our last encounter of this nature. I would also remind you that the last time you accosted me you were rather
violently removed from my house by Lord de Marisco. He was only my friend then. Now he is my husband, and a most doting husband at that. I would that you think on it before you approach me again.” Then with a polite mocking curtsey she moved from the shadows and up to the Queen’s table, where a place had been made for her.

Robert Dudley swore, and then swore again as he heard low laughter near his ear. “Hatton, say one word of what you saw, and I swear I shall run you through!” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Sir Christopher Hatton chuckled with pleased laughter. “I would not have believed it, my lord,” he jibed at the earl. “Did you not tell me yourself that she was a passionate little drab, and quite hot for you? By God, Dudley, I should hate to see a woman who didn’t like you!” Laughing merrily, he moved off, leaving the earl most discomfited.

After the meal there was dancing, and although Skye would have far preferred to leave Greenwich and return to her house, she could not depart until the Queen had left, and Elizabeth Tudor, it seemed, was full of energy, and as merry as May this night. She danced with verve, and more with Sir Christopher than any other man in the room. Remembering Adam’s teasing remark about Hatton dancing divinely, Skye had to admit that he was the best dancer she had ever seen; and seeing Dudley sulking on the sidelines gave her great pleasure.

“Good even, Mama,” Robin said, coming up to stand beside her.

Skye turned, and with a pleased smile gave her son a swift kiss. “You are not surprised to see me?” she asked.

“The Queen told us some weeks ago that you would be returning to court, Mama.”

“Did she also tell you the manner of her invitation to us, Robin?”

The young earl looked puzzled. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“The Queen’s agents kidnaped Velvet,” Skye said quietly.

“God’s nightshirt!”

“Do not use such language, Robin,” the mother in Skye scolded.

“Your pardon, Mama, but I was so surprised by your disclosure I could not help myself. Is Velvet all right?”

“So the Queen assures me, although I have insisted that my baby be returned immediately. Velvet is at Hampton Court.”

“Why?”

“Your uncles in Ireland are causing difficulties, and the Queen wants my aid in suppressing their high spirits.”

Robin laughed. “The Irish are always causing trouble,” he said matter-of-factly.

“This is serious,” Skye said, “and I would remind you, my lord earl, that you are half Irish.”

“By blood, yes, madam,” Robin replied quietiy, “but my heart and my loyalties are all English.”

“Yes, Robin, they are. I have raised you to be your father’s son. I might have done otherwise. I, however, am Irish, but I do not condone these useless rebellions in which your uncles have involved themselves, and I must stop them before they do any serious damage to the family.”

The young earl nodded. He understood the difficulty of his mother’s position. “I am sure that the Queen has not hurt Velvet,” he said.

“No, she has not, but nonetheless it was a terrible thing to do to us. I have, however, exacted my price in return for my aid. The Queen has recognized our marriage, both Adam and your brother, Padraic, have been given estates, and Lundy has been returned to us.”

“Padraic has his lands back?”

“Not in Ireland. The Queen would not give him back the Burke lands.”

Robin saw the sadness in his mother’s eyes, and he put a hand on hers, saying, “I am sorry, Mother, but at least we are now less a house divided, and for that I am glad.”

“Where is Willow?” Skye asked her son, changing the subject, for she could no longer think of Padraic’s loss without weeping.

“Look for the Earl of Alcester, Mama,” Robin said. “Wherever he is, Willow will be.”

“God’s blood!” Skye swore. “Did I not warn her about involving herself with a man?!”

“ ’Tis not Willow who has involved herself with Alcester, but rather the other way around,” Robin said with a smile. “He is quite smitten with her, and in a position to offer marriage, Mama.”

“Tell me.”

“James, Lord Edwardes, Earl of Alcester,” Robin began. “Aged twenty-four, a widower with one child, a daughter. Educated, well mannered, neither drinks nor gambles to excess. He seems to enjoy the ladies, but is no lecher, I’m told. I rather like him, Mama, and Willow, for all her hoity-toity ways, likes him
too, although she hasn’t given the poor fellow the least encouragement.” Robin chuckled, a sophisticated sound far beyond his years, Skye thought. “He’s rather shy, I think.”

“What of his family?” Skye demanded, for this young man surely had a family who would object to their son’s marriage to a young woman not of the nobility.

“His parents are both dead, Mama. He has a paternal grandmother, I am told, but no one else of note.”

“What of his finances? Surely there is some gossip about that.”

“He’s not rich, Mama, but neither is he a pauper. I have been told that his estate is small, but well kept.” Here Robin made his voice even lower. “He doesn’t know the extent of Willow’s wealth, Mama. No one at court does, for she hasn’t been here that long. Besides, Willow is rather closemouthed about her affairs, and spends very little of her allowance.”

Skye smiled with satisfaction. Her daughter was being quite discreet, and that was all to the good. She looked about the room, and finally spotted Willow standing amid a group of laughing young people. How lovely she looked in her garnet-red velvet gown, and how delighted Khalid would have been with her, the doting mother couldn’t help thinking. “Which one is Alcester?” she asked Robin.

“The young man by her right elbow.”

Skye let her gaze assess her daughter’s would-be suitor. He was a pleasant-looking young man of medium height with light brown hair. He was well built, and his young face had an intelligent and kindly look to it. “Introduce me,” she commanded Robin.

Robin offered his mother his arm and led her across the floor to where his sister stood with her friends. Suddenly Willow saw them coming, and her eyes lit up joyfully. Breaking away from the group, she ran the few steps between them.

“Mama!”

Skye enfolded her daughter into her arms and hugged her tightly. “I have missed you these weeks,” she said, “and how lovely you look tonight, my precious. I see you are wearing Nicolas’s pearls, and how pretty they look on you.”

“Mama.”

Skye looked up, and then moving away from Willow, she saw Robin with the Earl of Alcester. “Yes, Robin?” she said, feigning surprise.

“Mama, I would present to you Lord James Edwardes, the Earl of Alcester. My lord, my mother, Lady de Marisco.”

Alcester caught her hand and, raising it to his lips, kissed it. “Lady de Marisco, it is my pleasure. Now I know where Mistress Willow gets her beauty.”

“Really, Alcester,” Willow said, flushing with pleasure though her voice was sharp with pretended annoyance, “I am said to look like my father.”

“Both you and your mother have dark hair,” poor Alcester protested.

“Quite true, my lord,” Skye agreed. “How astute of you to notice it, and as for you, Willow, surely I have taught you better manners. His lordship offered you a compliment. Thank him, and accept it graciously.” Skye smiled at her daughter, then at the earl. “Now,” she said, “you will excuse me, for I must find my husband. Willow, we are at Greenwood for several days, and then we must go to Ireland. Please come to see us.” Skye kissed her daughter, and then smiling again at Alcester, she bid him farewell.

Finding Adam, she remained with him until the Queen had left and they were free to depart for Greenwood. As they rode back to their house she told him of Willow’s suitor. “I think we will be approached by his lordship before we leave for Ireland. Find out what you can about the young man. Robin’s information is encouraging.”

“What does Willow think of him?” Adam queried.

“I have not had the opportunity to find out, but I suspect from what I have seen she is not averse to his suit. We shall see. I will never force her to a husband, as my father forced me to Dom O’Flaherty.”

Adam put his arm around his wife. “All that was long ago, sweetheart. We will be certain it is what Willow wants.”

Neither Skye nor Adam had the opportunity to check further on the Earl of Alcester, however, for the following afternoon he arrived unannounced at Greenwood. “I hope you will forgive what must seem a lack of manners on my part,” he apologized, “but I understand that you will not be staying in London long, and I wished to speak with you about Willow.”

“Indeed, sir, be seated,” Adam invited the earl, who sat down on the edge of a chair. “What is it you wish?”

“I want to marry your daughter, sir,” the earl said.

“Willow is my stepdaughter, my lord. She is my wife’s child by her second marriage to a Spanish nobleman.”

“Why is it you wish to wed with my daughter, my lord?” Skye asked quietly.

Alcester flushed, and then said as quietly, “Because I love her, madam.”

“I do not see how you can love her, my lord, though I doubt not your good intentions. You have known Willow but a short time. My daughter and I are very close, and he has not written me of you, nor has she said anything about her affections being engaged.”

“Madam, Willow is the most discreet of maidens. From the moment she arrived at court I could see she was different from the others. She is chaste where many are not. She is kind, and devout, and intelligent. I worship the very ground she walks upon, and I would make her my wife.”

“If, my lord,” Adam said, “we were to consider your suit—and mind you, we will do so only should Willow approve—what dowry would you ask?”

“I am not a wealthy man, my lord,” the earl replied, “but I am not poverty-stricken. I can provide comfortably for a wife. Whatever dowry you wish to offer I will accept.”

“You are not aware then that my daughter is an heiress, my lord?” Skye looked closely at James Edwardes.

“An heiress?”
The Earl of Alcester looked dumbfounded. “I d-did not know, madam.”

Studying the young man’s face, Skye decided that he was telling the truth. “Willow’s father was a wealthy man, my lord, and she is also the heiress to her godfather, Sir Robert Small. Should she agree to entertain your suit a generous dowry will be set aside for you, but the bulk of my daughter’s wealth must remain in her hands. If you are willing to agree to that then we shall speak with Willow.”

“Do you control your own wealth, madam? I had heard the rumor that it was so.”

“I do, my lord, and it has always been thus since my first marriage. A man is entitled to his dowry, but a woman is also entitled to have her own monies so she may not be beholden to anyone. You have noted that Willow is an intelligent girl, and so she is. Intelligent enough to know how to invest her capital, for I have taught her and so has Sir Robert. If you will trust her she will increase her wealth.”

“Unusual as it is, madam, I will agree to your terms, for I truly do love Willow. There are others, madam, like the Countess of Shrewsbury, Bess of Hardwick, who control their own wealth. If Shrewsbury can live with it then surely I can.” He smiled mischievously, and seeing his smile for the first time, Skye thought that the earl was a most handsome young man.
“Besides, madam, Willow is far prettier than Bess of Hardwick.”

“I should certainly hope so!” Willow exclaimed, coming through the door of the morning room. “Good day, Mama, Papa. Alcester, what are you doing here?”