"Let them," Adam said quietly when she attempted to correct them. "In time they will understand about Niall, but for now they need a father."

To Skye's great surprise, her four older children took to calling Adam "Father" also. Robin had never called anyone but Geoffrey father before, and her O’Flaherty sons, who could not remember Dom, had in their Irish pride not been able to call either Geoffrey or Niall by that title. Willow had called Niall "Papa," but even she succumbed to Adam de Marisco's charm.

"What magic is this you weave about my children?" she teased him.

"No magic, sweetheart, it is simply that we need each other."

"Oh, Adam!" she said feelingly. "I am so glad that you do!" and she kissed him with love upon his mouth.

Then, three days before the wedding, as the dressmaker worked on the final fitting of Skye's gown, the kneeling woman remarked, her mouth full of pins, "Madame, you have fattened again! You must be very happy indeed, for most brides lose weight before the wedding. I shall have to alter the waist again."

Skye stood very quietly as the woman did her job, but Gaby had seen how she had paled at the dressmaker's words. When the woman had made her adjustments and taken the gown away, Mignon helped her mistress into a comfortable chamber robe and departed on an errand. Gaby de Saville looked at Skye, and asked, "What is it, ma fille? Why are you so worried?"

Skye looked up at the lovely woman who was to be her mother-in-law, and said brokenly, "I am pregnant, Gaby. There is no mistake. I am pregnant. Dear God, what am I to do?!"

For a moment a stricken look crossed the Comtesse de Cher's face, and her hand moved instinctively to her mouth to stifle her cry of distress. Then seeing Skye's anguish, Gaby de Saville pulled herself together, and spoke firmly. "It is, of course, Navarre's child. Curse him! Why could he not leave you alone?"

"Once, Gaby," Skye said, her voice shaking. "He only took me once. How could this have happened!"

"Once, ma fille, is often quite enough," the comtesse remarked.

"How can I marry Adam now, Gaby? How can I marry the man I love while carrying another man's bastard? Dear Heaven, has not Adam suffered enough? I cannot make him accept someone else's child as his own. Oh, Gaby! What am I to do?!"

"You have no choice, ma fille. Adam must be told."

"No!"

"Yes! Listen to me, Skye. I know my son, and I believe that I know you, despite our short acquaintance. You and Adam love one another. You have traveled a rocky road to be together, and you, Skye, have made my son happier than I have ever seen him in his life. He was half a man, a shadow figure. It is you who have made him whole, and if you leave him I dread to think what he will do.

"We will tell Adam the truth of this matter. Surely you do not think that he will desert you, or blame you. If I know Adam his first thought will be of you, and what you have suffered at Navarre's hand. His second will be of revenge, and together we must keep him from that folly. I know an old witch woman in the forest who with potions can help you rid yourself of this unwanted child; or if you cannot do that, have the babe and we will find a peasant woman to raise it."

"I cannot destroy an unborn child, Gaby. It is not in my nature to do so. I know that Adam will forgive me, but it seems so unfair to ask him. If he decides to repudiate me I will understand," she said, and a large tear rolled down her cheek.

"Fetch M'sieur Adam," Gaby commanded Mignon as she re-entered the room.

The tiring woman turned around and hurried out while the two women sat in silence awaiting Adam de Marisco. Gaby noticed how terribly overwrought Skye was, twisting and shredding her cambric and lace handkerchief as they waited. "It is going to be all right, ma fille," she said. "I promise you that everything is going to be all right."

Entering the bedchamber, Adam heard his mother's words. He rushed to Skye's side and knelt, looking up into her face. "What is it, little girl?" he begged her. "What is the matter?"

Skye, however, could only look mutely at him as the tears began to trickle down her face. Before her son could go mad with worry Gaby de Saville quickly explained Skye's predicament to Adam.

"Dammit!" the lord of Lundy exploded at his mother. "You let her bear this cross all alone, and after what she has been through in Morocco? I thought you had better sense, maman!"

"Don't speak to your mother that way, Adam de Marisco!" Skye sobbed. "She has been wonderful to me!"

“I’ll kill him!" Adam roared.

"Which is precisely why I did not share my knowledge with you, you great fool!" Gaby snapped. "A lot of good you would do us all, Skye included, killing the heir to France. Do you think that there is a place in this world where you might hide if you committed such a heinous crime? It is appalling that Skye is enceinte, but the chances of that happening were so slim that neither she nor I even considered it after the attack on her. It is too late now to worry over it."

"I will understand if you do not wish to wed with me, Adam," Skye whispered.

"Woman," he shouted, "what damned-fool nonsense is that?! Of course I want to marry you! I have wanted to marry you for six long years! I've lain awake more nights than I care to remember aching for you, and cursing myself for my stupidity in letting you escape me! I could kill Henri of Navarre for raping you, but that child you are carrying is half yours, and I will raise it up as my own! We will have no foolishness about farming it out to some stupid peasant, Skye. Now stop your damned weeping, little girl, and come here and kiss me!" He stood up, pulling her with him, and his mouth tenderly took hers.

"Oh, Adam," she said against the warm pressure of his mouth, "I do love you so very much, but everyone in your family will know that the baby isn't yours. I cannot shame you like that."

"Non, non!" Gaby injected. "When Athenais broke her betrothal with Adam and spread her vicious lies, my de Saville children were too young to either understand or remember. Only Adam's sisters, his full sisters, know the truth, along with Antoine. I will tell them of your plight, ma fille, and they will understand and keep silent. They love you as much as I do for the happiness you have brought their brother."

"You see," he murmured down at her. "You cannot escape me this time, little girl. You are meant to be my wife."

Great happiness flooded her being, and she suddenly smiled up at him with a smile of pure radiance. "I had best watch my diet for the next few days," she said, "lest I grow out of my gown again."

The gown, however, was pure perfection when Skye wore it on her wedding day. The bride was a vision of loveliness in apple-green silk, the low bodice embroidered with gold thread and tiny pearls that matched the panel of her slightly darker velvet underskirt. The leg-of-mutton sleeves were held by many tiny gold ribbons, the wristbands turned back to form a cuff with a gold lace ruff just above her slender hands. The bodice had a long wasp waist that ended in a pronounced downward peak. The bell-shaped skirt of the overgown separated in front to reveal the elegant skirt of the undergown; the shape of the entire dress being dictated by a cartwheel verdingale with a padded hip bolster. Beneath this all were silken undergarments, outrageous pale-green silk stockings embroidered with grape vines, and delicate silk slippers sewn with pearls.

Mignon had done her hair with pale-gold silk roses, and Skye wore with them tiny gold chains studded with small diamonds. About her neck she had chosen to wear creamy white pearls. With unusual foresight Willow had carried her mother's jewel cases from England, and Skye was able to put away the pieces that Nicolas had given her, knowing that Adam would be a lot happier if he saw she did not wear the duc's gift on their wedding day. The groom himself was attired in a magnificent bronze-colored velvet suit decorated with gold embroidery and creamy lace.

Because the ceremony had grown from a simple family celebration into a neighborhood fete by virtue of Catherine de Medici's appearance, it could not be held in the château's chapel. Instead, the village church was swept and cleaned and then decorated with roses and all manner of late flowers. The Queen had arrived the night before, and was housed in a suite of apartments that Gaby was sure would not be fine enough; but Catherine assured the comtesse otherwise.

The wedding party walked from the château upon its little hill above the Cher River to the church of Archambault down in the village. All the villagers had dressed in their finest, and even decorated their cottages in honor of the couple. Not knowing Adam's history, they nodded approvingly at the bride's six children, murmuring that the comte and comtesse were sure to have more grandchildren before it was all over.

As she knelt by Adam's side during their nuptial mass, Skye had the strangest feeling that behind her stood unseen guests-the ghosts of her former husbands-and in her mind's eye they were all smiling with their approval. Dom, of course, was not there, but she could see Khalid el Bey, and Geoffrey Southwood, the angel Earl of Lynmouth, and Niall Burke, and-yes!-even Fabron de Beaumont, that poor tortured soul whose wife she had been but briefly. Then as Adam placed the heavy gold ring on her finger, they were gone, and if Skye felt a moment of sadness for what had been, her heart was too quickly refilled with gladness for what was to be.