Before the house now stood several men in green-and-white livery, who hurried to open the carriage door, take down the steps, and help the occupants forth. As they entered the house a slightly more elegant liveried man hurried forward, saying, "Welcome home, m'lady!"
"Thank you, Walters," Skye replied. 'This is my youngest brother, Master Conn O'Malley. He's come to court."
"Welcome, sir," was Walters's reply. Then he turned back to Skye and Adam. "A message came for you from Greenwich with Lord Burghley's man. It was verbal, and I was asked to repeat it to you. You are to let Lord Burghley know as soon as you arrive in London. He will inform Her Majesty, and a date will be set for you to be received at Greenwich."
"Send someone at once," Adam instructed. "I’ve not a doubt the Queen is anxious to see us."
"Very good, m'lord."
Skye moved up the main staircase of her house to the library, her husband and her brother following. Behind them the baggage was being brought in, and Daisy busily directed the footmen with each piece. Velvet, in the arms of her nurse, Nora, a younger cousin of Daisy's, was carried up to her nursery to be put to bed. As Nora hurried past Conn, he stopped her long enough to place a soft kiss upon his niece's head.
"Good night, kitten," he said softly. "Have happy dreams."
"You spoil her," Skye noted, but she was pleased that Conn had developed such a deep affection for her little daughter, an affection that was quite mutual, for Velvet adored her handsome uncle. Velvet, her mother thought, liked all the gentlemen, and Lord knew the men were easily enamored of her child.
"You're smiling," Adam said as he poured them each a goblet of red wine.
"I’m thinking that Velvet already knows her powers with regard to the gentlemen," Skye replied.
"Aye," Conn grinned. "She's a proper minx, Velvet is. She's but nineteen months old, but I’ve no doubt ye'd best find her a husband early. With luck ye might turn her into a well-brought-up little lady, but I doubt it!" he chuckled, and then he sat down by the fire opposite his sister.
"We have more important things to think on now," Skye said. "I’ve turned you into the perfect courtier, Conn, provided you don't lose your fine Irish temper and spoil it. There are plenty of Irish at court who are civilized, despite what some of the greater snobs will say. Don't let those idiots make you ruin your reputation, brother. The worst of them are the least among the English, and they only naggle at us in order to bolster their own puny egos. If you don't let them get to you, they will soon grow tired of their silly game and devour each other."
"Don't they know that while their ancestors were still painting themselves blue for battle, and living in tree shelters, we Irish had universities and great poets?" Conn demanded irritably.
"No, Conn darlin', they don't know. They believe that the sun rises and sets on England, and nothing you can say will alter their ignorance. Don't even try, Conn. You need only have faith in yourself to succeed. If you do, none of the stupid insults thrown at you will matter. Remember what Da always taught me. The survival of the family is paramount, Conn. Nothing else matters."
"Do you think the Queen will see us fairly soon?"
"Oh, yes! Elizabeth Tudor will be curious to meet you. Oh, Conn, you've such an advantage! You're young, handsome, clever, well mannered, and fairly well educated. In short, just the kind of young man the Queen adores. Use that advantage. Pay her court. Flirt with her. Remember, though, that 'tis only a game with the Queen. You will be a success, I promise you, and then you will get the letters of marque that the O'Malleys need."
"Is she attractive? I mean, really? I know that all the gossips praise her, but what is she really like, Skye?"
"She'll be forty this year, Conn. She's old enough to be your mother, but she's a handsome woman. She has marvelous white, white skin, and golden red hair. Her eyes are a gray-black and they see everything. She is very educated, and enjoys quick repartee. She's a brilliant and clever woman. She likes to dance, so there you'll shine. You'll like her, but beware, little brother. She can be stronger and harsher than any man I've ever met if the occasion warrants it."
"You intrigue me, sister," Conn replied. "I am more anxious than ever now to meet this paragon of womanhood."
Conn O'Malley arrived at court two days before Christmas of 1574. He wore dark green velvet, and his trunk hose was striped in green velvet and gold silk. His doublet was embroidered with gold threads, pearls, turquoises, and small diamonds in a seascape pattern. The buttons on the doublet were gold, and at the wrists and neck of the garment the finest lace showed. He wore a short Spanish cape lined in beaver with a half-erect collar lined in cloth of gold. On his feet he wore tight-fitting leather boots with cuffs that turned upward, and about his neck was a heavy gold chain and a red-gold medallion with the O'Malley sea dragon carved upon it, its ruby eyes most real.
At the last moment Skye had convinced her brother to shave his beard and mustache off entirely, and, as she had suspected, beneath the black hair there was an outrageously handsome face.
"God's blood," Adam swore, looking at the younger man. "You could be your sister's twin!"
"Considering I'm fifteen years older than he is that's quite a compliment, my darling," Skye laughed, "but I knew there was a handsome devil lurking beneath all that growth. Dear Lord, Conn, the women will be throwing themselves at you. You'll have your pick of the entire court!"
"Poor lasses," Conn mourned with a long face. "'Tis only Bess Tudor I’ll court."
Both Skye and Adam laughed, and then leading the way, they left the house. Embarking upon their barge, they moved downriver to Greenwich. Adam sat silent watching the landscape go by as Skye instructed her brother in last-minute details. God, how beautiful she was, Adam thought as he watched her. She was dressed in crimson velvet, her cloak lined and edged in ermine, her jewels- rubies and diamonds-sparkling in the torchlight. She carried an ermine muff embroidered with diamonds and pearls, and framed within the hood of the cloak, her face was radiant. She scented victory, he thought, and he was glad. Once this matter of the O'Malleys was settled, he intended to take her away and never again share her with anyone but their large and loving family.
The towers of Greenwich Palace came into view, and Adam reached out to take his wife's small hand in his own big one. She never turned her head, but she squeezed him, and he squeezed back. The barge took its place in the line of barges heading for the royal landing.
"Skye! Oh, Skye!" A lovely red-haired woman in the barge ahead of them waved her lace handkerchief frantically.
Skye nodded an acknowledgment as Conn noted, "A prime piece of goods, sister. You will introduce me?"
"To Lettice Knollys? She's the Countess of Essex, Conn, and much too rich for your blood. Besides, I suspect she is involved with Lord Dudley, though if the Queen knew it she'd have her cousin Lettice's pretty head."
"Behind us," Conn said. "Who is that overly fashionable gentleman?"
"Edward de Vere, the Earl of Oxford. He's Burghley's son-in-law, though he's a bad one, I'm told."
Their barge bumped the landing, and the Queen's footmen made it fast so its occupants might disembark. They stood a moment upon the quai landing, Skye shaking her skirts to be sure all the wrinkles were out when Lettice Knollys approached them.
"Skye darling! You're back! Who are these two handsome gentlemen escorting you?" she demanded playfully.
"Lettice, my husband, Adam, Lord de Marisco." Adam smiled, and kissed the Countess of Essex's beringed hand while she assessed him with frankly admiring eyes. "And my youngest brother, Conn O'Malley. Conn, this is the Countess of Essex."