Skye O'Malley: A Love For All Time Part 5

Placing his goblet back upon the sideboard Conn bowed to the queen, and walked from the room with the air of a man condemned while behind him both William Cecil and Elizabeth smiled conspiratorially at one another. Outside the queen's private closet Robin Southwood stood talking with Mistress Talbot, but seeing his uncle he quickly excused himself, and hurried up to him.

"Bess says ye'll take me to Mistress St. Michael," said Conn.

"Keep yer voice down, uncle," Robin chided him. "This matter is a private one. Follow me."

"Ye don't sound very happy, Robin," said Conn O'Malley as he followed his nephew. "Do ye then agree with me that this marriage is foolish?"

Robin said nothing at first, but once they had gained the outside corridor, and he saw that there was no one about he turned on his uncle. In anger, he said fiercely, "She is the most wonderful girl I have ever met, Uncle Conn! Hurt her, and ye will have me to answer to! Do ye understand?"

Conn's first urge was to laugh, but then he saw that his nephew was in deadly earnest with his threat, and so swallowing his mirth he said quietly, "She must be a fine girl, Robin, to have so won ye over. I am counting upon ye to help us both bridge the gap of awkwardness that is certain to be between us in the beginning. Will ye help me?"

"Aye," the boy said, "but be warned that I am Aidan's knight first and foremost."

Conn nodded seriously, asking, "Where the h.e.l.l are ye taking me, lad? I've not been this way before."

"Aidan's room is one the Countess of Lincoln was able to spare, but it is in the attics. At least she has had her privacy which is more than most of the girls have." Having reached Aidan's door at this point Robin rapped sharply upon it, and it was opened almost instantaneously by Mag.

"Good day, yer lordship."

"Good day, Mag. Is Mistress St. Michael here? I have brought my uncle Conn O' Malley to meet her."

"Aye," said the tiring woman, "he looks like an O'Malley. Skirt-chasing pirates every one of them, I've heard!"

Conn gently pushed Robin aside, and stood before the open doorway looking down on the small, plump woman who glowered up at him with snapping brown eyes, her hands balled into fists and set upon her ample hips. "Indeed," he said, "and where does yer knowledge stem from, little woman?"

" 'Tis common gossip in Ballycoille, and am I not Mag Feeney of Ballycoille?"

Conn laughed. "Well, Mag Feeney of Ballycoille, I'll not say yer wrong for there are many O'Malleys who seek their living from the sea, and there are just as many who enjoy a pretty girl, but I've one brother who's a priest, and not as likely soon to be a bishop, and a sister who's a holy nun known for her skill at doctoring, and four other sisters who disapprove of me just as much as ye seem to, and one magnificent sister who's one of the wealthiest women in England. We're hardly an ordinary lot. Now be a good soul, and tell yer mistress that I've come calling."

Mag shut the door firmly, and Conn and Robin waited. Finally the door opened again, and stepping aside Mag said, "Ye may come in, Master O'Malley," and then she gave a little shriek as pa.s.sing her by he reached down, and gave her bottom a small pat. "Ohh, 'tis a bold one ye are!" she scolded him. "Yer mother has, I've not a doubt, wept bitter tears over ye!"

"My mother loves me," he replied, "and ye will, too, Mag, when ye get to know me."

"That, Master O'Malley, remains to be seen," she replied.

"Mag,"' said Robin, "come and have a tankard of ale with me," and before the tiring woman might protest he drew her out the open door, and pulled it shut so the betrothed pair might be alone.

Conn stepped past the bed that rook most of the room's floor s.p.a.ce into the little bit of open room. Before him, her back to the tiny window, stood a girl. She was far taller than most women, and bigger boned than his sister Skye. Her face was oval, her chin dimpled as was his. He could not tell the color of her eyes, or her hair which was hidden beneath her cap, but he noted that she had pretty hands that plucked nervously at the amber velvet of her gown. She was no beauty, this bride the queen had picked for him, but he thought she might be pretty if she would only smile. Still in all it wasn't as bad as he had thought it might be. She could have been pockmarked. He looked closely at the girl again. There was something familiar about her. Where had he seen her before?

"Twelfth Night," said Aidan recognizing his predicament.

The sound startled him, but he decided, he liked her voice. It was moderate in tone, and sweet. "Twelfth Night?" he questioned.

"Ye played Blind Man's Bluff with us, and ye caught me."

"Of course!" Now he remembered! "I kissed ye, and ye trembled. Ye don't know how to kiss. I thought to myself that ye'd never been kissed before, and 'twas strange for yer not a very young la.s.s like the others."

Aidan laughed, and it was a somewhat rueful sound. "Nay, I'm not as young as the others," she agreed. "I will be twenty-four on the nineteenth of August next."

"I will be twenty-three on the twenty-third of June," he answered.

They were silent again neither one of them sure where to take this awkward conversation from there. Then Conn said, "Yer very pretty when ye smile, Mistress St. Michael."

"I think ye had best call me Aidan, Conn O'Malley, as we will very shortly be man and wife." She was surprised by her daring speech.

"Do ye know what it means in the Gaelic?" he asked her.

"I do not know Gaelic."

"It means 'Fiery One.' Are ye fiery, Aidan?" His eyes were studying her, noting suddenly the slender waist, the full bosom, her straight carriage.

"I do not believe so, Conn O'Malley," she answered, and she blushed at his scrutiny.

He was suddenly very curious to see the color of her hair. "Take off yer cap, Aidan," he said, and when she hesitated, shy, of his request, Conn stepped forward, and gently pulled the small linen cap that was heart-shaped in the front, but draped baglike in the back to conceal her hair, from her head. Then his hands moved expertly to undo the gold and tortoise hairpins that held her hair so neatly in place. To his surprise the hair suddenly came undone, falling in a silken swath to just below her hips. "G.o.d's nightshirt!" he swore softly, "ye have hair like pale molten copper, la.s.s! 'Tis lovely. Why do ye conceal it beneath that d.a.m.ned cap?" His hands slid through the perfumed tangle of it.

"M-my father said my hair was a funny color. He preferred my mother's hair, and so after she died I kept my hair beneath a cap so as not to annoy him." She felt rooted to the floor as his fingers gently caressed her long tresses.

He had never seen hair like this, Conn thought. It was the most beautiful color, and so wonderfully soft to his touch, yet it had texture. For some reason he could not fathom her hair aroused him in the most incredible way. "I think," he said softly, his own voice sounding thick in his ears, "I think it is time, Aidan St. Michael, that we seal this betrothal the queen has made between us with a kiss," and without waiting for her answer he cupped her head with one hand, and found her lips.

For a moment she felt as if all the blood had drained from her veins to be swiftly replaced by boiling, thick, and sweet, hot honey. She couldn't move. She didn't want to move. The pressure of his lips on hers roused in her mind that most lascivious of thoughts. She wanted to tear the clothes from her body, and from his. She wanted to lie with him, and touch him, and have him touch her. She felt his other arm slip about her waist, and to her mortification she found herself falling back against that arm while his lips trailed down her arched throat leaving a path of burning kisses. She felt a hand move to cup her breast, heard his voice, heavy with pa.s.sion groan her name, "Ahh, Aidan," and in that moment sanity returned to her. She was as bad as those silly women who were forever chasing him. She was as bad as any d.a.m.ned drab who so easily lifted her skirts here at court. She didn't know this man, and yet here she was locked in pa.s.sionate embrace with him, allowing him to fondle her! Why in another minute or two he'd have her on the bed, and what was left of her virtue would be gone! He'd be bored with her before the wedding!

With a grim burst of determination Aidan stamped down hard on Conn's booted foot, and using all her strength pulled herself from his delicious embrace. "Master O'Malley!" she tried to make her voice sound stern and scandalized. "Master O'Malley! We are not wed yet, sir!"

His head was spinning, and he felt like a schoolboy. What bewitchment was this that she had ensnared him with? One look at her coppery hair, and he had desired her. It was unbelievable, and even he was surprised by his own actions. What was worse he wasn't certain what he could say to her. "Aidan . . ." G.o.d's loot! Where were the proper words?

Aidan's head was beginning to clear, and with several swift motions she had her hair pinned up, albeit untidily, and was replacing her linen cap upon her head again. She drew a deep breath, and said in what she hoped sounded like a no-nonsense tone of voice, "Master O'Malley, I think it is best that we not see each other again until the wedding lest we cause gossip. It could draw attention to our match which is not what the queen desires at this time."

He was finally able to find his voice, and he almost stammered his agreement, feeling like a b.u.mbling fool as he did so. Hastily making her a leg, he hurried from the little room. What the h.e.l.l was the matter with him? he frantically questioned himself. He had never behaved like such a lackwit with a pretty female in his entire life. She was simply a girl!

As the door closed behind him Aidan sank to the bed, finding to her great surprise that she was shaking. What was the matter with her? He was only a man! She was suddenly terribly aware of how little she actually knew about the more intimate relationship between a wife and her husband. What was worse there was no one she could ask, and she felt like a total fool. She wanted to be his wife, but she suddenly knew that until they had grown to know one another better their marriage could be one in name only. She didn't dare allow him any more intimacies lest she be tempted into further wanton behavior. His kisses, his embraces, were like heady sweet wine, and she wanted to drink until she was blind drunk. It shocked her to face that truth, but what surprised her more was the realization that she, Aidan St. Michael, wanted her husband, Conn O'Malley, to love her; to really love her!

He was not, she knew, impressed by her monetary wealth for he had wealth of his own. He gained lands, and of course, her father's t.i.tle by their marriage, but it was not a marriage he had sought; and he was far too honest, she hoped, to court her unless he actually cared for her. She wondered what would happen if he ever learned that it was she who had suggested their marriage. He must never know! The clock on the mantel chimed four o'clock of this February afternoon, and a log dissolved into a shower of red-gold sparks in the fireplace grate.

Aidan stood up, and turning to look into the small mirror that Mag had hung near the fireplace she stared into it. Did she look any different now that she had been well and truly kissed? She didn't think so, and she smiled at her foolishness as she was sure Linnet Talbot would have smiled if she but knew; but then perhaps not. Was it not Linnet who had insisted that they follow the strict conditions for St. Agnes Eve just this last month? She smiled again at the memory, amused now that she had allowed the younger girl to bully her into so silly a superst.i.tion, and yet she had.

St. Agnes Eve fell on the night of January 20-21. It had been a snowy, cold night, Aidan recalled. It was the night that a maiden, if she followed a strict set of rules dreamt of her future husband. None of them had been on duty with the queen that night, and it was this coincidence of scheduling that had given Linnet the idea that they must all celebrate according to tradition. Each had gone separately to the chapel. First Cathy, who was the youngest, and then Dorothy, Jane Anne, Linnet, Mary, and finally Aidan. She wondered if the others had prayed as hard as she had. After all, they were so very young, and she was facing her twenty-fourth birthday. Leaving the chapel, looking neither to the left nor to the right, and most certainly not behind her, each girl had gone supperless to her bed, never speaking to a soul. That part had been the easiest for Aidan with her little chamber, and Mag, warned in advance, had humored her mistress. Once asleep the maiden was supposed to dream of the man she would marry. Aidan had dreamt of Conn O'Malley to her intense discomfort for she was, or so she thought, a practical girl, and Conn O'Malley was not a practical dream. He had never paid her the least attention, and other than his kiss on Twelfth Night he had had nothing to do with her.

"Who did ye dream of? Who?" each girl demanded of the others in the morning, but Aidan had lied, and said she had dreamt of no one, and must therefore be condemned to spinsterhood. The others had sympathized, but she had seen the knowing looks that pa.s.sed between them. Poor Aidan, the looks had plainly said. If she were meant to marry it would have happened long since.

Aidan's smile suddenly broadened. "I wonder," she said softly to herself, "I wonder what ye will all think when ye learn that I have married the Handsomest Man at Court! Aidan St. Michael, Lady Bliss! Mistress of Pearroc Royal!" and then she laughed. It was such a wonderful joke, and she had no friend with whom to share the humor. It would be so wonderful if her husband became that friend.

The next day she was excused from her duties, and she and Mag worked very hard to pack all of their possessions. They would be making the journey in the young Earl of Lynmouth's traveling coach, he had informed them when he had come with his liveried footmen to take away her trunks. The other girls had come to bid her farewell for they had already been told she would go early.

"This is sudden," pried Linnet Talbot. "If ye were anyone else I would say ye were with child."

"Linnet! Where is yer modesty," shrieked Cathy, but the other girls laughed.

"It was not meant that I remain at court," said Aidan quietly. "I really only came so the queen could get a good look at me. Being allowed to serve her majesty was a privilege and a treat for me, but I cannot remain off my lands for too much longer. I had actually hoped to be home by Twelfth Night."

"Is there a man involved? I mean back at yer Pearroc Royal?" demanded Linnet.

Aidan laughed. "If there were, Linnet, I should have been home long since! Now come, ye silly child, and kiss me good-bye!"

Each girl had stepped forward and pecked Aidan upon her cheeks, and then without further ado they trooped out of the room. As the door closed behind them Aidan felt a funny sort of sadness. They had not really been her friends for they were far too young, and much too feather-headed, but they had all been companions in the queen's service, and they had been kind to her. She must remember in the spring to send each of them a dress length for none came of wealth, and they would appreciate her practical thought.

"I want a bath," she said to Mag. "Go and bribe some of the footmen to bring enough hot water to fill my little tub before it must be packed. I will be so glad to get home where I may bathe again each day."

The footmen who had served this part of Greenwich Palace thought Mistress St. Michael's concern with her own personal cleanliness a great eccentricity, but they liked the piece of silver her tiring woman tipped them each time to bring up the hot water. They were sorry to learn that this would be the last time the silver would be theirs. After the tub was filled Mag shooed them out, and poured a goodly dollop of bath oil into the steaming water. Instantly the room was perfumed with the scent of lavender, and Aidan smiled.

"It may not be as elegant a fragrance as some I've smelt here, Mag, but it reminds me of home, and it makes me happy," she said.

"Aye," said the tiring woman helping her to disrobe, and sit down in the little tub, "and glad I'll be to see Pearroc Royal again, m'lady."

"M'lady?"

"Well, ye will be in a few short hours!" Mag pinned Aidan's long hair atop her head. "And high time ye were getting married! Ye should have been wed years ago but neither ye nor yer father could see it. It's a mercy he went when he did lest ye end up an old maid like the queen! I've saved two buckets of water for yer hair. I'll not have ye louse-ridden like so many of these fine ladies!"

She was bathed, and her hair was washed, and then as she dried it by the fire Mag went to the kitchens to fetch her a bit of supper, but she found her normally good appet.i.te gone, and when she went to bed she could not sleep although Mag snored comfortably next to her. She finally slipped into a restless doze only to have Mag shaking her awake. Already a bright fire burnt in the grate, but the room was chill with winter, and she dressed in her undergarments and stockings while still beneath her down coverlet. Mag had thoughtfully warmed them before the fire, but once out of bed it didn't help.

"Brrrr," she shivered.

"Ye'll be warmer when ye put yer dress on," Mag promised, and she helped her mistress into the gown. "I'd always hoped to see ye wed in yer mother's satin wedding finery, but there was no time to send for it. I'm not certain I approve of this kiss-me-quick ceremony the queen has planned for ye."

"Master O'Malley must leave court, Mag. Don't deny that ye know the scandal he has caused."

Mag chuckled lewdly. "What a rare devil he is, m'lady Aidan! The mother and the daughters both! Then the amba.s.sador's wife! Hee! Hee! Hee!"

"I would have thought ye'd be shocked," Aidan said puzzled.

"If ye'd been wed to him then I would have been, but a bachelor is ent.i.tled to his little adventures, and since time began there have always been women who were willing. Besides it attests to his virility, m'lady. Ye'll be with child quick enough, and that will be good for Pearroc Royal."

Aidan barely heard her for she was staring at herself in the pier gla.s.s. I am pretty, she thought. In this dress I am really pretty! It was a gown that had been made by the dressmaker who sewed for Robin's mother, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever owned. It had been finished in time for the holidays, but Aidan had been shy of wearing such an exquisite gown, afraid of drawing attention to the richness of her dress which would have possibly meant explanations of her worth. The dress had been left to hang in the cabinet. It was the only gown she owned, however, that was lovely enough to serve as a wedding dress.

The overskirt and the bodice were of a heavy, soft velvet in a wonderful shade of peac.o.c.k's-tail blue. The underskirt was a rich cream-colored satin embroidered in a gold thread pattern of windflowers, small hearts, and darting b.u.t.terflies. The sleeves of the dress were leg-of-mutton and held by small gold silk ribbons, the embroidered wristband turned back to form a cuff. The fan-shaped neck-wisk was made of a creamy old lace.

Aidan scarcely dared to breathe for the neckline of the dress was shockingly low. She remembered protesting when the gown had been fitted, but the dressmaker had brushed her protests aside proclaiming, "It is the fashion, madame!" Now, however, that she saw herself in the finished dress Aidan worried for only the lace edging in her chemise prevented her nipples from bursting over the rim of the neckline.

"Ye'll be wearing yer mother's pearls," said Mag, handing Aidan a long rope of pink-tinged beads, and as her mistress looped the strand once about her neck, allowing the rest of the pearls to fall over her bosom, the tiring woman fastened the large matching earbobs into Aidan's ears.

Aidan was pale with her lack of sleep, and the sudden realization of what was happening. "How shall I wear my hair?" she asked Mag.

"Loose, of course, as befits a maiden on her wedding day, m'lady. I'll dress it with the rest of the pearls. Sit down."

Mag parted Aidan's hair in the center, and brushed it free of its sleep tangles. Then she pinned several loops of pearls on either side of the girl's head. "There, now, yer ready, but for yer shoes, m'lady," and the tiring woman knelt to fit them to Aidan's feet.

The clock on the mantel struck five o'clock of the morning as Mag stood up. " 'Tis time," said Aidan, and there was a knock upon the door.

Mag handed her mistress a lovely round m.u.f.f of ermine tails, and opening the door said, "Good morning, Lord Southwood. The bride is ready."

"Good morning, Aidan," said Robin, and she managed a small smile for him thinking how handsome he looked in his red velvet suit that dripped elegant lace.

Mag picked up their cloaks, and together the three hurried through the darkened, cold corridors of Greenwich Palace to the royal chapel where the queen, her chaplain, and Conn O'Malley awaited them. As they reached the chapel a footman came up to Aidan, and handed her a wreath of gilded rosemary and bay leaves saying, "Her majesty wished ye to have this for yer head, m'lady." Mag took the wreath, and placed it upon her mistress' head as a second footman stepped forward and proffered a small bouquet of white violets and green leaves saying, "These are from Master O'Malley."

Aidan took the little bouquet thinking that it was kind of Conn to remember such a thing. In her mind it somehow augured well, this small thoughtfulness.

At the door of the chapel Mag left her mistress, and entered alone. She was dressed in her best gown of black velvet with a fine lawn collar and cuffs. Quietly she made to the front of the chapel to stand behind the queen, but Elizabeth turning drew the tiring woman forward.

"('ome, Mistress Mag, for she is your child, and ye will want a good view."

Mag was overwhelmed, and tears sprang to her eyes. "Thank ye, yer majesty," she whispered.

"Let the ceremony begin," the queen commanded, and Conn entered the chapel from a side door with the priest. Escorted by Robin Aidan was brought to the altar to take her place on Conn's left side.

Aidan peeped at her bridegroom from beneath her sandy lashes. His beauty almost took her breath away. He was garbed in black velvet, his doublet encrusted magnificently in pearls, and tiny diamonds sewn with silver thread. His short trunk hose were made of black velvet and cloth of silver in wide stripes, and his stockings were black with silver thread clocks embroidered upon them. His shoes were black leather with rounded toes, cut high over the instep, each adorned with a silver rosette. His short Spanish cape with its half-erect collar was black velvet lined in cloth of silver. He wore no cap, his dark hair brushed simply, its tempting forelock falling over his forehead.

The queen's chaplain raised his prayer book, and began.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of G.o.d, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in Holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, inst.i.tuted by G.o.d in the time of man's innocency, signifying unto us this mystical union that is betwixt G.o.d and His Church."

The words seemed to burn themselves into Aidan's brain. Marriage was a sacrament. Should she be partaking of such a sacrament with a man she barely knew? Bridal nerves, said her more practical side. Many brides are married to men they don't know. There is nothing unusual in that. Her eyes swept the altar with its lace-edged linen cloth, the tall and shapely beeswax candles that burned in the graceful gold candleholders. There was a lovely peace within the chapel. The candles flickered on the stained-gla.s.s arches. It was still dark outside.

The queen's chaplain now questioned whether "any man could show just cause" why this couple should not be "lawfully joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace." He paused for a long minute during which time there was not a sound within the royal chapel but for Mag's gentle sniffling. The chaplain turned to Conn., "Wilt thou have this Woman to live with . . . after G.o.d's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony ... to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health forsaking all others for so long as ye both shall live?"

"I will," said Conn O'Malley, and Aidan's heart skipped a heat.

The priest then repeated the same question to Aidan. "Wilt thou have this Man to live with after G.o.d's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony ... to obey and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others for him so long as ye both shall live?"

"I will," whispered Aidan, and then Robin gave her over to the queen's chaplain, who placed her ungloved right hand in the right palm of Conn O'Malley who repeated after the priest the words: "I take thee to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to G.o.d's ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

His hand firmly clasping hers was warm and strong. She felt a small sense of loss as he loosed her hand so she might reverse the procedure, and taking his hand in hers she spoke her vows to him. Next came the exchanging of rings, and the queen's chaplain took them sprinkling them with holy water, and blessing them then accepted a symbolic bag of gold and silver from the groom. He then gave the bride's ring to the groom who took it with his thumb and his first two fingers, and said in a strong voice, "With this ring I thee wed, and this gold and silver I thee give, and with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly chattels I thee endow, in the name of the Father," he held the ring over the thumb of her left hand, "and of the Son," then over the end of the first finger, "and of the Holy Ghost," over the tip of the second finger, "Amen!" and he pressed the ring down on her third finger.

The queen's chaplain offered the benediction: "May ye be blessed by the Lord, who made the Universe out of nothing!" Then concluding the ceremony with a recital of the Lord's Prayer, and several other prayers, the priest said as he united Conn and Aidan's hands, "Those whom G.o.d hath joined together, let no man put asunder." Then he declared them Man and Wife, and giving the benediction finally concluded the service by blessing the refreshments of wine and cake that the queen had prepared. "Bless, O Lord, this bread and this drink and this cup, even as thou blessed the five loaves in the desert, and the six water pots at Cana of Galilee, that they who taste of them may be sane, sober, and spotless: Savior of the world, who lives and reigns with G.o.d the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost."

The bridecup with a sprig of rosemary was pa.s.sed about, and the queen's chaplain gave Conn the benediction kiss which he then gave to Aidan who blushed becomingly. The few guests smiled at this, and the queen raising her goblet toasted the newly wedded couple.

"Happiness, long life, and healthy children, Lord and Lady Bliss."

Conn took the queen's hand, and kissed it. "My thanks, Bess. I suspect it is not too harsh a punishment ye have visited upon me."

The toast was drunk, and then the queen said, "It is time for ye to leave now lest ye be seen. It is almost dawn." Then to Aidan's surprise Elizabeth Tudor kissed her on both cheeks. "I shall miss ye, my country mouse, but I know ye will be happy. We will look forward to welcoming ye both back to court in another year."

Aidan curtsied, and kissed the queen's hand. "I shall never forget yer kindness, madame," she said.

"Be good to her, Conn St. Michael, or ye shall answer to me," said the queen, and then she turned and left the chapel.

Mag had already donned her cloak, and now she placed her mistress' cape about her, drawing the hood up so that Aidan's ident.i.ty might be protected. Then she handed her gloves which were lined in warm fur.

Robin drew from his doublet several black velvet masks which he pa.s.sed to Conn, Aidan, and Mag. " 'Twill doubly protect us," he said.