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"Is this a fool's chase?" she asked Adam, turning her face up to his.

"I don't know, sweetheart. You can only try."

"Damn Grace O'Malley," Skye said vehemently. "She plays the power game, as does the Queen. But I'll not let her destroy us. I'll not!"

Chapter 18

Grace O'Malley, the pirate queen of Connaught, looked directly at Anne O'Malley, her kinswoman, and then said to her first in command: "Signal my ship to fire on anyone attempting to enter Innisfana's harbor without my permission."

"Aye," the man grunted, and went off to do his mistress's bidding.

"You can't do that!" Anne protested. "My stepdaughter, the O'Malley, will be arriving any day now. 'Tis her domain, and you've no authority over it."

"She forfeited her authority when she married an Englishman," Grace spat.

"Aye," Brian O'Malley agreed. I’m the O'Malley now, Mother."

"Unless Skye passes on her responsibility to you, Brian, as your father passed it on to her, you're not," Anne snapped, "and none of our people will recognize you as such."

"Shut yer mouth, woman," Grace ordered rudely, and with an outraged look Anne fell silent.

There was going to be some difficulty when Skye finally came, Anne knew. Skye and Grace would detest each other on sight, but she prayed that her stepdaughter could right things. Most of it was her own fault, Anne realized. She had been so lost after Dubhdara had died, and she had clung to her sons, indulging and spoiling them so they would love her and she wouldn't be alone. They had grown into four big mirror images of their father, but they had not Dubhdara O'Malley's strength of character.

They were, Anne was ashamed to admit, weak but well meaning men who drank too much, and wenched too much, and were given to foolishness, such as pirating with their distant cousin, Grace, and her men. Eventually the English were going to descend on Innisfana and wreak their vengeance. Thank God that Skye was coming home! She would set everything to rights, even this matter of Grace O'Malley.

There was a dull boom, followed by several more, and running to the window, they saw a fleet of eight ships entering the harbor under full sail. Behind them, Grace O'Malley's vessel keeled slowly over and sank into the bay. Even at this distance they could see men in the water, clinging to the rigging.

"Sweet Jesu, my ship's been sunk!" Then Grace O'Malley swore a violent string of vulgar Gaelic oaths that caused even Brian to redden.

Anne put a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter as her eldest son said with pompous understatement, "My sister is come home at last. Now we'll settle this matter between us."

"Aye," Anne said softly, "Skye will settle it, I've not a doubt, Brian, but I think mayhap 'twill not be to yer liking."

"Mother, you must uphold my right!"

"Brian, I've warned ye that you've no rights in this matter. Yer father of sainted memory, may God assoil his dear soul, passed on his authority to your sister, Skye. It is her right to hold that authority, or pass it on to whomever she deems fit."

"It's not right that she hold the title if she's not here to physically hold the authority," Grace O'Malley said slyly.

"Skye has always taken care of Innisfana and its people, even from a distant shore," Anne defended her stepdaughter. "She's done a fine job building our wealth, which my sons have squandered. Perhaps if one of them had shown any maturity, she would have passed on her badge of office."

“The woman is in England's hire," Grace said scornfully. "She's no better than an English landlord!"

“That's right!" Brian agreed.

"I wonder if you have the courage to say that to your sister, my son," Anne murmured.

"I'm not afraid of Skye," Brian blustered.

"Well, you damned well ought to be if you're the one responsible for trying to prevent me entry into my own harbor," Skye snapped, striding into the hall of the O'Malley tower house, her husband and her captains at her back. She glanced about the room. "Good day, Anne," she said, and then her glance flicked to the other woman who was sprawled insolently in a chair.

"You sunk my ship," Grace drawled.

"It got in my way," came the reply.

"Could you not have asked it to move then?" Grace said with some humor as she stood up.

Skye looked at this woman who was her relative. She had to be at least six feet tall. She was big-boned like a man, but handsome in appearance with sparkling deep-blue eyes, and short, dark curls. Skye knew that Grace was a good ten years older than she was, but the woman didn't show it. "Anyone sending a warning shot across my bow is looking for a fight," Skye said. "No one bars me entry to my own harbor, my own holding. Do you think to add Innisfana to your own lands, cousin?"

Adam watched, amused. Here were two well-matched hellcats, although he felt that Skye and her eight ships held the advantage.

Grace O'Malley caught his assessing look, and gave him a slow smile as she calmly took him in from head to toes. "Innisfana's too small for me to be bothered with, cousin," came her reply, and then she said, "Who is this big handsome stud? If he's one of yer captains I've a mind to hire him away from ye." Grace O'Malley's appetite for attractive men was well known, and her lovers were legion.

"That's something else you can't have, cousin. This is my husband, Lord de Marisco."

"'Tis the second Englishman ye've married, Skye O'Malley," came the faintly insulting reply. "The first, I'm told, was a golden-haired fop, but as for this one…" Again she raked him with a bold look, her eyes deliberately lingering where they should not. "Well, dearie, 'tis enough to make me curious to perhaps sample one."

"Not this one," Skye said in a cold, even voice.

"Are ye Englishmen then ruled by yer women, Lord de Marisco?"

"Only when they're beautiful and hot-blooded Irish wenches. madam," Adam said with an amused grin. "One O'Malley is more than enough for me."

Grace laughed, appreciating his humor and seeing with her shrewd eye that the man was in love. Her younger cousin had always had the Divil's own luck when it came to men, she thought enviously.

"I’ll have someone sail you up to Clare, cousin," Skye said, "and any of your pirates we've managed to fish out of the sea." She turned. "MacGuire! Take her home, man!"

"Aye, m'lady," came the reply. Then the old captain turned to Grace O'Malley. "Follow me," he said shortly, and departed the room.

Grace picked up her fur cloak from where she had carelessly thrown it and, with a wink at Adam, said, "Farewell, cousin, de Marisco. We'll meet again, I've not a doubt." Then without any pretense at hurry she sauntered after MacGuire.

Skye turned on Brian. "Where are your brothers?" she demanded.

“They're about," he answered sullenly. "We just didn't expect ye so quickly."

"I’ll wager you didn't! Fetch them, Brian. I want them here within the hour! Get out now!" Brian O'Malley almost ran from the room. When he had gone Skye turned to her stepmother. "Anne, I'm sorry, but I'm going to take their hides off. 'Tis bad enough what they've wasted, but you realize they're within a hair's breadth of losing everything else."

"I couldn't handle them, Skye. I needed yer father, for they're his lads right enough. Michael, bless him, never gave me a moment's grief, but my own four needed a man's influence. Yer Uncle Seamus couldn't be around all the time, and there was no one else."

"I know, Anne. 'Tis just the way things turned out," Skye soothed her stepmother, although she secretly thought that had Anne been a stronger woman, there would have been no problem. She looked about the hall, and was surprised at what she saw. 'This place is filthy," she noted. "I've never known you to keep a dirty house, Anne."