“Stop her!” shouted Dudley to the guardsmen.

Skye whirled, surprisingly graceful despite her girth. Her deepblue eyes blazed with contempt. She placed her hands protectively over her belly and said fiercely, “I carry within me the heir to the MacWilliam. Lay rough hands upon me and harm that child, and even my pleas will not be able to stop the flame that will ignite all Ireland! If the Queen wishes war with my people, we will be happy to oblige her!” Then she turned again and left the room, unopposed. “Why didn’t you stop the little Irish bitch?” demanded Dudley of Cecil. “Who cares if her cub strangles on its own cord?” “My lord,” said Cecil evenly, “you sit on this panel because the Queen requested it and I am, in all things, the Queen’s loyal servant. You were not my choice, however, and I shall ask Her Majesty to reconsider her request. I agree with Lady Burke. You are offensive. Gentlemen, you are dismissed until the same hour tomorrow when we shall again attempt to question the Countess of Lynmouth.” It was not to be, however, for Skye had felt the first pangs of labor as she made her exit. Slowly, gritting her teeth against the pain, she followed the guardsman back through a maze of corridors, almost fainting as she climbed the stairs all the way back up to her tower, forcing her legs to climb again and again, though they were leaden and she could hardly lift them. Nearing the top, she groaned and sat down heavily.

Startled, the young captain of the guard turned. “My lady!” he cried. He leaped back down the steps. Supporting her with his strong arm, he helped her up the last few steps to her apartment, shouting for aid as he went. The door was flung open and both Eibhlin and Daisy hurried out to take Skye from the captain. “D’you need anything?” he asked worriedly.

Eibhlin smiled reassuringly at the young man. “No, thank you, Captain. We have everything we need. I would, however, inform the Tower governor that Lady Burke has gone into premature labor.” She lowered her voice to a whisper easily audible to both Skye and Daisy. “I hope we don’t lose them both. All this nonsense of arresting my poor sister, and what are the charges, Captain? There are none! Well, thank you for your aid. You’re a good Christian lad, and I’ll pray for you.” Then she shut the door firmly between them and the guard.

“Oh, Eibhlin!” Skye was laughing between contractions. “You’re the most unholy nun I’ve ever met! You terrified that poor, nice young guardsman. Now he’ll run all the way to Sir John, and tell him I’m at death’s door.”

“Good! We’ll make mem all feel guilty,” crowed Eibhlin as she and Daisy helped Skye undress. “What did Cecil want?” “Me to confess to piracy. It’s as I thought. They have no proof.” She winced as a wave of pain rolled over her. Suddenly her waters broke, flooding into a puddle at her feet. “Eibhlin! I think this child is going to be born right now!”

“Daisy! Quick, lass, drag the table in front of the fireplace.” Daisy struggled with the long oak table, grunting as she fought to push it across the room.

“Eibhlin! Help her! I can stand alone.”

Together the two women swung the oak board around before the blazing stone fireplace. Then Daisy ran upstairs to Skye’s bedchamber and came back down with the goose-down pillows, a pad, and a sheet that she and Eibhlin placed on the table. They then helped Skye up onto the table, and she half sat with her legs spread, the pillows propping her shoulders as she labored. Eibhlin washed her slender, strangely elegant hands in the basin that Daisy provided. Some weeks before, the nun had instructed Daisy concerning her birthing-room duties and now Daisy performed without fault. The nun-midwife leaned down to examine her patient. “Holy Mary! The child is half-bom,” she exclaimed. Reaching out, she carefully turned the slippery infant.

“I-told-you,” gasped Skye as a final contraction racked her. And then the child, fully born, began to squall loudly. “Is-he-all right? All his fingers-and toes?”

Eibhlin swiftly wiped the baby off and gazed down at the tiny face. “She’s fine, Skye! All her fingers and toes!”

“She? Oh, damn!” Then Skye laughed weakly. “Willow will love having a little sister, and I am happy to have another daughter, but the MacWilliam is going to be very disappointed.” “You’ll have others,” remarked Eibhlin drily.

Skye sent Eibhlin an amused look, thinking how good it was to have her matter-of-fact big sister with her. How long, she wondered, would the Queen allow Eibhlin to stay now that the child was born? A thunderous knocking began on the door.

“Quick, Daisy, tell whoever it is that they can’t come in,” directed Eibhlin.

Daisy ran to the door and opened it.a crack. “You can’t come in,” she said to Sir John, the Tower governor. “My lady is having her baby.”

“I’ve brought my wife to help you,” said Sir John, and before Daisy could prevent it Lady Alyce pushed into the room and hurried over to where Skye lay. Seeing the newly born infant on its mother’s stomach, Lady Alyce’s eyes twinkled conspiratorially. Bending down, she whispered, “Groan loudly, my dear.” Understanding filled Skye’s eyes and she groaned long and piteously. “Oh dear,” cried Lady Alyce, running back to her husband, who waited patiently at the door. “It will be hours, John. You’d best go along. I will come back when I’ve news. Close the door, girl.”

Daisy gladly complied, breathing a sigh of relief as she did so.

The Tower governor’s wife laughed softly and smiled down at Skye.

“There, my dear, that should give you peace for a little while longer. Besides, it never does to let men know mat having babies can sometimes be easy.”

“Thank you, madam. I’ve never had a baby so quickly. Each one comes faster than the previous one.”

“How many have you. had, my dear?”

“This child is my sixth, but it’s my second daughter.” “Oh, a little girl! I had a little girl once She would have been fourteen this past Whitsun. She died of the white throat, eight years ago. Her name was Linaet.”

“I lost my late husband and our youngest son the same way,” said Skye.

The two women fell silent, then Lady Alyce asked, “What will you call this babe, Lady Burke?”

“Deirdre.”

“Skye!” cried Eibhlin. “Deirdre’s fate was a tragic one.” “She was held prisoner by her King. My innocent child is being held prisoner by her Queen. She was born in captivity, in a most infamous place, Eibhlin. The name is fitting. And as I have not the comfort of a priest, you must baptize my daughter, dear sister.” Lady Alyce looked troubled. “Why are you here, my dear?” she asked.

Daisy took Deirdre from Skye and began cleaning and dressing her. Eibhlin cleaned her sister free of all traces of the birth. Skye explained to the kindly older woman. “No one has told me why I am here, madam. No charges have been leveled against me. I hoped…” she hesitated, “that your husband might know.” “Alas, my dear, no! Oh, I wish I could help,” she cried. “It seems so unfair.”

“Do not trouble yourself, Lady Alyce. We Irish are used to being misunderstood and mistreated,” said Skye sweetly. “Well, at least I can stay here for a few hours,” said the Tower Governor’s wife. “If they think the child is being bom, they’ll leave you be. Later, having been witness to such a hard birth, I will of course advise my husband that your sister must stay a month or two if you and your poor weak infant are to survive.” Skye smiled. “You’re a true friend, ma’am. But do nothing to endanger yourself or Sir John with the Queen. The Tudors, I have found, can be most unkind even to their friends. I have learned this first hand.”

“What does the Queen know of the Tower except whatever my husband tells her?” replied the good lady. And she plumped herself down in a comfortable chair before the fire. “I understand, Lady Burke, that you’ve the best malmsey in England. I am mighty partial to malmsey.”

The following morning Lady Alyce informed her husband that the poor, imprisoned Lady Burke had managed, though the dear Lord only knew how, to give birth to a wee girl child. “Both she and the little lass are very weak, and will need constant nursing for the next few months if they are to survive,” said Lady Alyce firmly. Her husband recognized her mood. She would brook no interference. “My dear,” he said mildly, “it is all right with me if Lady Burke’s sister remains with her, but the final decision is not mine to make.” “You have some influence, John. Use it! I don’t understand what the Queen is about imprisoning poor Lady Burke, and without charges.”

“Hush, my dear! I can see that our distinguished guest has made a conquest of you, but we must trust that the Queen and Lord Burghley know what they are doing. I will send word now to the Queen.”

Elizabeth had been having one of her infrequent and painful menstrual flows when word was brought to her of Lady Deirdre Burke’s birth. “God’s nightshirt,” she swore irritably, “she has done it deliberately!” “Done what, madam?*’ said Cecil.

“Had her child in the Tower! The tone of Sir John’s missive is quite sympathetic to Lady Burke, and I am not sure I like it! Why should he sound faintly disapproving of me, and tenderly concerned for that… Irish rebel?”

“New mothers and their infants always have a tendency to evoke sympathy from those around them,” Cecil soothed. Elizabeth turned around, her lovely, long, red-gold hair swinging with her. Her face was white and pinched with pain. “You’ll not be able to question her for several weeks now! Damn! I wanted her exposed for the pirate bitch she is! D’you know that she threw Dudley out of her castle into the middle of a snowstorm last winter?”

Ho! thought Cecil, so that’s the reason behind this vendetta. Precious Lord Robert has been offended. Little did I think when I sought to get at the truth of the Devon pirates, that I should give.