Skye adapted instantly, and entered into the spirit of the convent, doing her share of fishing, snaring rabbits, and one day even bringing down a young buck. The venison was a rare treat for the nuns.
Skye needed that constant physical activity. Had she not worked so hard she might never have slept. Why had Niall not communicated with her? Surely he understood the anguish she was feeling. He could not, she was sure, have made love to her with such exquisite delicacy while intending to leave her forever.
It might have eased her mind to know that Niall Burke suffered no less than she did. He had clawed his way up through the swirling darkness to discover himself trussed like a damned Christmas goose on a cockle of a boat that was bouncing all over the ocean. The bearded captain of the little boat gave him a wicked but sympathetic grin.
“So, you’re awake, me lord.”
“Where the hell am I?” snarled Niall. “Unloose me at once!”
The captain looked unhappy. “Ah, now, your worship, I can’t do that. If I were to unloose you, and you became violent, which I can see you’re sure to do, I’d be in terrible trouble. Take Lord Burke home to the MacWilliam was what the O’Malley told me to do, and that’s just what I’ll do.”
“At least sit me up, man, and give me a dram. I’m cramped, my head feels like the little people are mining gold inside it, and I’m not sure I won’t be seasick.”
Captain MacGuire chuckled. “All right, lad. You don’t ask a great deal of a man, and I’m no fool to make you any more uncom- fortable than you already are.” Bending, he hauled Niall into a sitting position, his back against the mast, and held a flask to his lips.
Niall gratefully swallowed several gulps of the smoky, peat- scented whiskey. It hit the pit of his stomach like a burning rock, but almost immediately it began to spread its warmth through his cramped, wet body. “So the O’Malley sent me home?” he said thoughtfully.
“Aye, me lord, and you’ve slept as peaceful as a babe most of the way. We’re just about there.”
Niall craned his neck and looked to the coast, but he was not a sailor and the distant landscape looked all the same to him. “How long?” he demanded.
“A bit,” came the infuriatingly vague answer. “See that little point over there? Once we’re around it you’re home. That’s where we’ll land, and then I’ll walk you from there. I’ve a message to deliver to the MacWilliam.”
“Walk!” Niall exploded. “We’ll take the first available horses we can find. The MacWilliam’s stronghold is a good stretch of the legs from the sea, man. Do you ride?”
“About as good as you sail, laddie.”
“Then God help you, MacGuire! You’ll soon be as uncomfortable as I am now!”
When they finally reached shore the captain untied his passenger and helped him from the boat. Niall Burke rubbed his wrists where the ropes had chafed him. He was anxious to be home so he might speak with his father. He clambered up the hillside from the beach.
Without even looking to see if MacGuire was with him, Niall strode quickly away, following a faint path. After about a half-hour they came in view of a thatched roofed farmhouse. Next to the farmhouse bloomed a kitchen garden of herbs, carrots, and other root vegetables, cress, and a few bright flowers. The nearby fields, well kept, were already colored with barley and rye. And in a pasture just beyond the garden a dozen sleek horses grazed peacefully. There was no sign of life, though MacGuire could have sworn he had seen smoke coming from the chimney. “Ho! The house! ‘Tis Niall Burke, and a friend.”
After a long moment the farmhouse door swung open, and a big man stepped out. He called back out into the house, “It’s all right, Maeve. It’s his lordship.” The man came forward, a grin on his face, and clasped Niall’s hand in his own large bearlike paw. “Wel- come, my lord! How may we serve you?”
“I need two horses, Brian. This evil-looking fellow is Captain MacGuire, one of the O’Malley’s men. He’ll return the horses to you later.”
“At once, my lord. If you’re not in too great a hurry, the wife is just taking bread from the oven.”
Niall Burke’s silvery eyes crinkled in appreciation. “Ah,” he breathed. “Maeve’s bread with her own honey! Come on, MacGuire! I’ve a treat for you, despite the fact that you’ve treated me badly.” The captain in his wake, he burst through the door and swept up a sparrow of a woman into his embrace. He held her high above him, lowering her to smack kisses on both of her flushed cheeks while she laughed and scolded him to put her down. “I’ve come for your virtue-and your fine bread, Maeve love!” he teased, returning her to her feet.
She gave him a friendly whack, and said, “None of your naught- iness now, Master Niall. Tis long past time you grew up. Come along with you, and your friend too. Sit down. The bread’s just from the oven.”
They obeyed her and sat. Niall, turning to MacGuire, explained, ”Maeve was my nurse until I was seven. Then she deserted me to wed with Brian. As a boy, I used to come here often, for she bakes the best bread in the district. And for some reason her bees make the best honey you’ve ever tasted.”
“It’s the salt air,” said Maeve. “It gives the honey a wee bit of a nip.”
MacGuire shortly found that Lord Burke was no liar, and he said to Maeve, “If you had a daughter who could bake half as well as you do, mistress, I’d wed with her in a thrice.”
Maeve flushed with pleasure. “If you return this way, Captain, stop for a meal with us.”
“Thank you, mistress, and I will!”
“The horses are ready, my lord,” called Brian from the doorway.
Niall Burke stood up, licking a drop of honey from his finger like a small boy. “Let’s go, MacGuire. I’m anxious to be home!”
The captain was surprised to see two fine, well-bred mounts waiting. They mounted and, with a wave to Brian, rode off.
“Your peasants must be prosperous to have any horses at all, let alone such fine ones,” observed MacGuire as they cantered along.
“These are our horses,” answered Burke. “We keep good horses with several specially chosen families for just such purposes as these. That way, we’re never stranded.” He then spurred his horse to a gallop. “Come on, man,” he called to the captain, who was bouncing up and down on his mount, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I’m for home!”
Niall Burke was to regret his haste. No sooner had he entered into the MacWilliam’s presence than the O’Malley’s letter was handed over to the great lord. MacGuire was sent off to be served refreshment, and Niall stood impatiently while the MacWilliam, his strong features darkening, skimmed over the parchment. Finally the MacWilliam snorted and, looking angrily at his son, roared, “Well, you arrogant puppy, I hope you have a helluva good explanation for your conduct! Dubhdara O’Malley’s ships are vital to the defense of this area, as is the goodwill of the Ballyhennessey O’Flahertys!”
Niall, of course, had not read the letter. Caught off guard, he blurted like a schoolboy. “I love her, Father! I love Skye O’Malley! I tried to speak with O’Malley, and get him to call off the wedding. But his wife went into labor before I could talk to him. She had a hard birth. He was unavailable all that time, and they wed the girl ahead of schedule, practically in secret.”
“O’Malley wouldn’t have called off the match, you young fool! It was made years ago. He was bound to it! And a damn good match it was for his youngest lass. How dared you interfere?”