“Rise, my daughter,” came a cool, cultivated voice.
“Reverend Mother, may I present my sister, Skye. Skye, this is the Reverend Mother Ethna.”
“Thank you, Sister Eibhlin. You may return to your duties now. Mistress Monahan from our village went into labor this morning, and you have our permission to attend her.”
Eibhlin bowed herself out, and the Reverend Mother Ethna waved Skye to a chair. “Welcome to St. Bride’s of the Cliffs, Lady O’Flaherty. Your father has already apprised us of the reason for your visit. We will endeavor to make you as comfortable as pos- sible.”
“Thank you,” Skye said tonelessly.
Quiet brown eyes surveyed Skye, and the nun appeared to be debating with herself. Then she said, “I was Ethna O’Neill before I took the veil. It was my niece to whom Lord Burke was betrothed. She never knew him, but I did. He has a most winning way about him.” A small smile played about the corners of her mouth.
“We met but a short time ago,” said Skye, softening somewhat. ”I don’t know what happened to us, but we are in love. Da simply would not listen. Niall wants to have my marriage annulled so we may wed.”
The nun shook her head. “Perhaps he can arrange it, or at least get the proceedings started while you’re here.”
“You’re the first person who’s not told me that the MacWilliam won’t let his heir marry with an O’Malley of Innisfana.”
The Reverend Mother laughed. “Ah, these men and their pride! Take heart, my daughter. The MacWilliam is a stern man, but he loves his son. But tell me, child, have you no feeling for your young husband?”
“I do not love Dom, nor did I ever wish to wed with him. I begged my father not to force me to it, even before I met Niall Burke. In fact, I did not wish to wed at all until I met Niall. I do not believe a woman should have to spend her life with someone she dislikes.”
“So,” chuckled the nun, “you’re a revolutionary like your sister, Lady O’Flaherty.”
“No. And please, I beg of you, Reverend Mother, do not call me Lady O’Flaherty. I shall never acknowledge Dom’s name as mine. I am Skye O’Malley!”
“Very well, Skye O’Malley, we shall try to make your stay with us as pleasant as possible.” The nun picked up a bell and rang it sharply. It was instantly answered by a little novice. “Sister Feldelm, this is Skye O’Malley, Sister Eibhlin’s sister. She is sheltering with us for several weeks. The West Tower guest suite has been prepared for her. Will you please escort her there?”
“Yes, Reverend Mother,” said the novice, bobbing a curtsey. ”If you’ll come along with me, Mistress O’Malley.”
“You are free to go wherever you chose on the grounds, Skye, and the chapel and public rooms of the convent are open to you. You need not keep to your rooms.”
“Thank you.” Skye turned to follow Sister Feldelm.
“My daughter, I shall pass on to you any information I receive.”
Skye flashed her a small smile, then followed the novice out.
How sad, thought the Reverend Mother. Another young woman pushed into an unhappy marriage. She wondered what the Mac- William would do. She knew what he would not do. He would not let Niall have Skye, for he sought a better match for his heir. Damn him and the others like him for the fools they were! Hadn’t they yet learned that overbred wenches invariably proved to be bad breeders? A good sturdy lass of less elegant lineage made a better wife.
The Reverend Mother Ethna realized that beneath the gallant defiance, Skye O’Malley was a frightened and desperate girl. If the child was to be disappointed, best she learn it now so she might face her grief with the nuns. In the time she was with them, they could, with the grace of God, help her make peace with herself.
Alone in her apartment Skye inspected her surroundings. There were two rooms, a good-sized dayroom, and a small bedroom. Both had fireplaces. The bedroom fireplace was set into the corner. The room held only a big oak bed with claret velvet hangings. There was no room for any other furniture. The size of the bed amused and puzzled Skye until it dawned on her that the convent probably relied on the generosity of its friends to furnish its rooms. Giggling to herself, she wondered what the nuns thought of the great bed. It faced the one small window in the bedroom, and looked out over the sea.
The dayroom was a bright, pleasant room with windows on two sides. They faced north, giving a far view of her home on Innisfana Island, and west across the open sea into the setting sun. On the east wall of the room was a large stone fireplace flanked by two great carved winged angels. To the north of the fireplace was the stout oak door that served as an entry.
On the opposite side of the fireplace a small floor-to-ceiling book- case had been built into the wall, matching a larger one that shared the south wall with the paneled bedroom door. Before the lead paned western windows was a polished oak refectory table with armchairs at the head and foot. To one side of the fireplace was a settle and on the other a comfortable chair. There was a large carved chest, and in the space between the windows stood a little prie-dieu with an embroidered cushion. Skye’s trunk had been placed in the bedroom, beneath the window.
The convent’s benefactors had been more than generous. Heavy claret-red velvet draperies hung from all the windows, and a large Turkey carpet in reds and blues was spread across the floor, matching a smaller one in the bedroom. Skye later learned that the O’Neills had furnished the West Tower’s guest quarters when their own Ethna became the head of St. Bride’s of the Cliffs.
Skye’s days quickly took on a comfortable pattern. She rose early, and attended mass in the convent’s chapel. She was not particularly religious, but she prayed now that Niall would soon come for her. Afterward she obtained her own breakfast from the kitchen and went off by herself to walk across the convent grounds. A small sailboat belonging to the order was placed at her disposal, and Skye spent many hours sailing and fishing to pass the time. The convent soon enjoyed a number of fresh seafood dinners courtesy of their young guest.
The main meal of the day was served at two in the afternoon, and Skye ate it alone in her dayroom. The evening meal was served after vespers, and sometimes Eibhlin joined her young sister. Oth- erwise Skye was again alone.
The convent had a surprisingly fine library, and the bookshelves in Skye’s dayroom were also well filled. On very wet days, she read. Skye O’Malley was a well-educated woman for her day. She could speak her native Gaelic as well as English, French, and Latin. She could write, and though she might not sew as fine a seam as her sisters did, her needlework was passable and she could knit.
She knew how to run a household, understanding provisioning, salting, conserving, preserving, soap-making, and perfume-making. She knew the rudiments of brewing and household medicine. She had been taught to keep accounts, for O’Malley firmly believed that the only way to avoid being cheated by one’s own steward was to do one’s own household accounts. And as if that were not enough, Skye was one of the finest navigators her father had ever sailed with. The O’Malley often joked that he thought his daughter could smell out her ship’s destination.
Though she saw the nuns as she moved through the uneventful pattern of her days, Skye actually spent most of her time alone. The order of St. Bride’s was not a cloistered one, nor was it a begging order. The nuns were workers, devoted first to their God and second to the poor. Some of the nuns were teachers and others gave medical aid to the surrounding area. The rest farmed for the convent, cooked, knitted, sewed, and did the farm and household chores.