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"'Tis not my house any longer, Skye. Ever since Brian married my niece, Maggie O'Brian, she's been mistress here, and she'll accept neither help, nor advice from me."

Skye felt a bolt of irritation shoot through her. She remembered how lovely the hall had been when it had been Anne's responsibility. The tables had gleamed with beeswax and rubbing, reflecting back the huge porcelain bowls of flowers, either fresh or dried depending on the season, that Anne always filled the house with. Looking around, she saw that the tabletops were smeared and dull; the chair cushions dusty, frayed, and worn. The giant andirons were black from lack of polish and the fireplace walls thick with greasy, black soot. There were dust balls in all the corners, and rushes filled with bones covered the floors. The corners of the ceilings were cobwebbed, and the place stank to high heaven.

"I’ll not have it!" Skye roared furiously. "Where in hell are the servants! Dammit, Anne, get the servants in here at once!" She turned to her captains. "Secure the harbor," she commanded. "I’ll expect you all for dinner tomorrow. I don't dare ask you tonight for fear there is no dinner in this badly run establishment!"

Skye's captains hurried from the room, glad to be free of what promised to be a battle royal with their mistress taking on not only her half-brothers, but a sister-in-law as well. Anne O'Malley had already fled the hall seeking the servants. Alone with her husband, Skye said, "It's impossible, Adam! The whole damn thing is impossible! Anne is a sweet woman, but she is so easily overridden by not only my brothers, but obviously Brian's wife also! What am I to do? I cannot stay here and control their lives always. We have our own life to live, and dammit, I want that life!"

He took her in his arms and held her tightly. Skye pressed herself against his velvet doublet while the familiar, clean smell of the spicy clove-scented soap he used soothed her turbulent emotions. He knew how Skye loved a calm and orderly house, and to find that her childhood home, which she had left well tended, had become a slovenly disgrace was disturbing to her, especially coupled with the fact she must regain control of her brothers. "It will be all right, little girl. Lady Anne knows what must be done. Delegate the authority back to her, and with your support she will be able to function once more."

"Ummm," Skye murmured, hearing him, but suddenly wishing she were anyplace else with Adam but the middle of the hall of O'Malley House. She snuggled against him for a brief moment, and feeling his own desire awakening, Adam scolded her gently.

"Dammit, little girl, this is neither the place nor the time!''

"Don't you want me?" She rubbed teasingly against him, suddenly feeling mischievous.

"Skye!" He tried to put her away from him, but she clung tighter, and to both his horror and his delight her questing hand slipped beneath his doublet and around to caress his buttock. "Skye, you vixen, cease your torture or I swear I’ll take you right here and now, no matter the consequences!"

"Do you want me, Adam?" she repeated.

"Yes!" he groaned through gritted teeth, and she released him to stand demurely back, laughing softly at his discomfort.

"I want you too," she said. "For the life of me I don't know why we didn't take Velvet back to Belle Fleur and leave the O'Malleys to Hell!"

"Because, sweetheart, you are your father's daughter. You accepted the responsibility for your family from him, and you are not a woman to go back on your word."

"I could pass the mantle on to Brian," she said.

"Knowing that he's not fit for it, Skye? You've too much conscience, I'm thinking."

"Aye, worse luck!" she agreed.

Adam chuckled. "You'll feel better after you've knocked a few stubborn O'Malley heads around," he promised her as into the hall straggled a group of shabby-looking women and several men led by Anne and another, younger woman.

"This is my daughter-in-law, Maggie," Anne introduced the girl.

"How old are you?" Skye demanded, too angry to even greet her unknown sister-in-law civilly. The girl was a little bit of a thing with sharp features and carrot-red hair.

"Seventeen," came the mumbled reply.

"Didn't your mother teach you how to manage a household?" Skye demanded.

"Me mother died when I was four or five. I was the eighth child, m'lady."

“Then what in the name of God gave you the idea you could run this house, lass? Why did you remove Lady Anne from her position as chatelaine?"

"I’m the O'Malley's wife," came the reply. "I couldn't allow another in me place. My older sisters all said if I didn't make clear from the beginning that I was the lady of the house, I wouldn't ever be.''

"I think we'd best get several things straight," Skye said patiently, although she was longing to smack this rather stupid girl. "My brother, Brian, is not the O'Malley, I am. This is my house in which you live, and you've turned it into a pigsty! Rushes on the floors! Sweet Jesu, this house hasn't seen rushes on the floors since my father was a boy! Where are the fine carpets we had? Now listen to me, Maggie O'Malley, the Lady Anne will resume her duties as chatelaine of this house until she no longer desires that position. You will learn from her so that when the day comes she believes you competent you may take over from her. From the looks of this place 'twill take at least ten years for you to learn! How many children do you have?"

"Four."

"Any girls?"

"One."

"When she's old enough then she'll learn too, and her sisters, should she have any!" Skye turned and looked with a hard eye at the servants. "Diligence will be rewarded in this house, and laziness will be punished. I'm not averse to beating my servants when they don't perform." She glared fiercely at them, and the little group visibly quailed while Adam sought to not laugh, for Skye had never been known to hit a servant. "I am the O'Malley. D'you understand? 'Tis my orders that will be obeyed here, and you're to obey as well Lady Anne unless I tell you not to. Is that understood?"

Wide-eyed, the group nodded.

“The hall first, Anne, please."

Anne O'Malley, her confidence suddenly restored, began issuing quick orders. "You, Maeve, get those rushes up! Mab, bring the beeswax, and let's get started on those tables! Paddy, you and Tam clean the fireplaces and the andirons! The rest of you, use yer eyes and yer brooms! I want this hall shining by nightfall!" With a quick smile she turned to Skye. "Use my apartments until this place is clean. I'll send the boys to you as soon as they arrive."

Skye kissed Anne lightly on the cheek. "My thanks," she said, and with Adam following her she led the way to her stepmother's rooms. They had barely settled themselves when Skye's brothers arrived, banging noisily into the room without knocking and causing their elder sister to shriek outraged at them as they tracked mud across Anne's beautiful Turkey carpet. Sheepishly they backed out again, removing their footwear at her command before re-entering the chamber. Anne's rooms were the only haven of cleanliness right now in the entire house, and Skye had no intention of allowing her brothers to ruin it.

Grinning, they stood before her, all big men as their father had been. Three had his startlingly bright blue eyes, each sported a bushy black beard, and all had black, black hair, which they wore longer than was currently fashionable.

"Well," Skye said quietly, "you all look like Da, but you're not one whit like him, for our father wasn't stupid and the four of you certainly are! Between you you've not the brain of a chicken!"