“I did indeed, Adam, and thank you. Now please put me down.

I’m dizzy with the height.”

He regretfully complied. “Why the signal, Skye?” “News! Marvelous news, de Marisco! In an effort to impress the Queen and turn her thoughts favorably toward the Archduke Charles, Spanish Philip has sent our Bess a treasure ship from the New World. It’s filled with Inca gold, Mexican silver, and emeralds from the Amazon mines. I’m going to take that ship! I’m going to pluck it from the sea and pick it clean!”

“No, Skye, you’re not. Something is wrong here. I sense it.

Where did you learn of this ship?”

“The entire town of Bideford buzzes with the news, Adam.” At that, he looked even more concerned. “As does Plymouth m’dear. My men brought me word of this ship over a week ago. It is obvious that someone wishes to attract our attention. I suspect a trap.”

“But if we took their ship anyway, and escaped with Bess’s gold in spite of their trap-?” mused Skye.

“It is too dangerous!” protested de Marisco. “To begin with we have no idea if this ship actually carries treasure or not. They say it travels in convoy with four other merchant vessels. That in itself rouses my suspicions. Why is such a valuable ship unguarded, traveling only with merchant ships?”

“Perhaps so as not to arouse suspicion.”

“Then why broadcast the fact of its coming? No, Skye, this stinks.

This is a trap. Don’t risk yourself, your men, or your ships.” “But if the vessel is genuine, Adam. All that gold! To be able to take all that gold from the Queen!”

“Little girl, don’t let desires for vengeance overrule common sense. The Tudors are merciless when dealing with their adversaries. You’ve been lucky so far. Ignore this. That’s the wise thing to do.” “Let us investigate the rumor further, Adam. If we cannot prove the truth of it then I will let it go. But if the treasure proves to be a real treasure ship, then I must take it!”

Adam de Marisco shook his head. “Even if you’re not caught, there’s no safe way for us to dispose of such a prize.” She flashed a quick smile. “We can dispose of it through Algiers after we melt all the gold and silver down and have it formed into new bars. I will want to take some of the emeralds for myself, for a necklace and earrings. It will give me great pleasure to wear them beneath the Queen’s nose, secretly knowing where they came from.” “How will you find out more about the ship?”

“De Grenville is stopping here in a day or two, on his way home to Cornwall. He’ll know. When he has gone I’ll signal you to come.” “Does Lord Burke know of your activities?”

“No,” she answered him in a low voice.

“The Burkes, the O’Malleys, the O’Flahertys, the Southwoods, the Smalls. There are five families involved in your schemes, little girl. Bring ruin on yourself, and you’ll bring ruin on them all. Think carefully before you tilt with the Tudors one more time. Right now there is nothing to involve you with any of our past piracies, but one more venture is all mat’s needed to bring destruction to you and all those others. Let it go, Skye. Forget the Queen. Please!” Diamond-bright tears glittered in the sapphire eyes. “Forget?” her voice trembled. “Oh, de Marisco, do you have any idea what it is like to be a woman? To be forced to give yourself against your will? How do you imagine I felt when Dudley pushed himself into me? Every time he touched me I felt fouled beyond belief, but I bore it because I had no other choice. A woman rarely does. “Elizabeth Tudor did that to me, Adam. Another woman did that! She handed me over to Dudley without a thought for me or for my dead Geoffrey or for our loyal service to her. I was a thing to be used by the Queen and her favorite. No, Adam, I cannot forget!” “All right, Skye,” he sighed, for how could he argue? “But this will be the last time. I don’t relish seeing your pretty head on the block-or mine either!”

“Just this last time, de Marisco.”

Adam de Marisco returned to Lundy, deeply troubled. What had begun as a lark was deadly serious now, and he was afraid. Skye’s lust for vengeance was overriding all good sense, and he was worried. Why hadn’t he seen this coming and put a stop to it before she became obsessed?

Two days later de Grenville arrived at Lynmouth from London. He was full of amusing gossip and chatter about the Court. Skye possessed herself of great patience, not wanting to give herself away. At last, with Dickon and Niall relaxed and well in their cups she asked casually, “What is this I hear of a treasure ship for the Queen from King Philip? Bideford is full of rumors.”

“Aye,” smiled de Grenville drunkenly, “he hopes to push the suit of his nephew, Charles, by showing Bess how nice it is to have rich relatives.”

“Then the ship is real, Dickon?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Isn’t the Queen afraid that she may lose her ship to the pirates who have been raiding off the coastal waters here and near Ireland?” “That’s why I’m here,” de Grenville chuckled craftily. “Gonna take four warships out to meet the Santa Maria Madre de Cristos and escort her into Bideford.”

Skye giggled. “No pirates would attack a merchant vessel surrounded by four warships. Even I know that.” She reached for the pitcher and, leaning across him, sloshed more wine into his goblet. Her movement offered him a fine view of her breasts, and she noted with amusement that his breathing quickened. Niall appeared to have fallen asleep, his dark head lying upon his crossed arms. “My ships gonna be dis-disguised, Skye. Gonna look like plain old trading vessels, as helpless as the real one. Just five little ships all ready to be plucked.” He hiccoughed, then swilled more wine, spilling some of it on his doublet.

Sudden comprehension shot through Skye. “Are you telling me, Dickon, that the Santa Maria Madre de Cristas has sailed alone across the Atlantic without escort?”

He nodded. “King Philip felt it was safer that way. No one would believe that one lone, unprotected ship carried such treasure. After the ship put to sea, William Cecil thought to catch the pirates by sending my ships out disguised. Pirates attack little helpless convoy. Only this isn’t helpless. Good ol’ Cecil. Always the crafty one.” “Why Dickon, how clever! Thank heavens the Queen is acting at last to rid us of these pirates, Robbie and I lost two ships to them last summer,” she said indignantly. “Where will you meet the treasure ship?”

“Three days out off Cape Clear.”

“Then they sailed the Southern Star route,” she gently probed.

“Um,” he nodded.

“When will you meet the Spanish, Dickon?”

“A week from today,” he muttered, then slipped forward to fall asleep on the table near the snoring Lord Burke. Skye smiled, satisfied, and signaled to Daisy, who had remained quietly in her place below the salt during the evening. “You lit the tower beacons?” Skye whispered.

“Just before dusk, m’lady. Lord de Marisco is already waiting below,” Daisy whispered back.

“Have these two carried to bed, Daisy, and have my bath ready, I’ll not be long.” She hurried from the Hall and using an entry door at the end of the room, hurried down the interior staircase to the cave. “Adam!” she called as she reached the bottom, and he stepped from the shadows.

“Well, little girl, what news?”

“The ship is real! It’s the Santa Maria Madre de Cristos, and for the next week it travels alone and unescorted!” she burst out. “What! What of its escort?”

“There are none! In a week’s time de Grenville and four of the Queen’s warships disguised as merchant ships will join the Spaniard three days off of Cape Clear. Until then the Santa Maria is unprotected!”

“What’s her course?” de Marisco asked tensely.

“Southern Star.”

“It’s too good!” he began to pace. “De Grenville simply told you all that?” Adam was incredulous, his smoky blue eyes darkening. “I got him drunk,” she explained. “Dickon never could hold his wine. He always says what he shouldn’t when he’s drunk.” She was remembering mat long-ago evening when a drunken de Grenville had told her of the bet he’d made with Geoffrey. “Are you sure he was drunk?”

“Very sure, Adam.” She chuckled. When he looked at her strangely she said, “An old debt Dickon owed me has been settled by tonight’s information.”

“Where is he now?”

“Dickon? I gave orders to have the footmen carry both him and Niall to bed.”

“Your husband was drunk?”

“Yes. It was strange,” she mused. “I’ve never seen Niall unable to hold his wine. I hope he’s not sickening. More likely, he’s tired. He’s been out riding the estate for two days.”

“Do we go, Skye?” he asked.

“We go Adam. I’ve a feeling. Call it a hard Irish hunch, but if MacGuire and his men leave Lundy at once they can intercept the Spanish ship and be safely home before de Grenville and his men rendezvous with her.”

“And its cargo? Where do we store that impossible cargo, little girl?”

“Not Lundy, Adam. If the Queen’s men suspect us they’ll be all over your island, and losing you your head would be a poor way of repaying your friendship. Not here or Innisfana, either.” “Where, then?”

“Mshturk Island! The location of my sister’s convent, St. Bride’s. There are caves there that I discovered years ago when I-uh… spent some time visiting Eibhlin. MacGuire knows the caves, and the English will never think of looking there. In time we’ll smelt the gold and silver down. They can be easily disposed of in Algiers once they’re formed into bars.”

“This is the last time, little girl,” he said quietly but firmly.

“I know, Adam.”

“I’ll miss you, Skye O’Malley.”

“We needn’t stop being friends, Adam, simply because we’ll no longer be doing business.”