Then Niall’s eyes raked her cruelly. “I see you’re already with
child, Lady O’Flaherty,” he said loudly.

“Aye, my lord. Wed seven months, and six months gone with
child. The women of my family are known to be prolific breeders.”

She spoke as loudly as he had. Then she turned and insolently eyed
Darragh Burke. “I see your own bride of half a year is not yet as
fortunate as I. Are you, my dear?”

Darragh flushed. Her “nay” was audible to all. Skye smiled
sweetly, curtseyed again and, taking her husband’s arm, turned
away. Behind her she heard the MacWilliam chuckle.

Skye allowed Dom to seat her by the fire. She stared into the
leaping flames as he went in search of some mulled wine. She was
almost shaking with suppressed fury. How could Niall behave in
such a fashion?! He had shamed her before the entire county on her
wedding night, left her after making extravagant promises he never
intended keeping, and now he pretended that he had been the injured
party! The bastard! A goblet was shoved into her hand and she
gulped a mouthful of wine to calm herself.

“You were magnificent!” she heard her husband say. “By God,
you showed Niall Burke, and in front of all Connaught too! Not that
I think it would be easy to get that skinny, overbred O’Neill wench
pregnant. I don’t even envy him the task,” he laughed.

“Shut up, you overblown fool!” she hissed at him through gritted
teeth. God, why were all men such idiots? “I don’t give a tinker’s
damn for Niall Burke, but I’d not insult the MacWilliam’s hospi-
tality, so try not to be too obvious in your glee, husband.”

Dom looked at her strangely, but before he could say another
word Anne O’Malley came to greet them. She sent Dom off to join
his friends, then settled herself comfortably and looked at her step-daughter.

“Was it wise to insult Niall Burke and his wife?” she
asked.

“Was it wise for him to insult me?” Skye snapped.

“You still love him.”

“I hate him! For pity’s sake, Anne, speak of something else. The
babe has a tendency to make me weepy, and I’d rather not be
misunderstood.”

“Of course,” said Anne O’Malley sagely. “It would hardly do for
Niall Burke to think you weep for him.”

“I never realized before what a bitch you can be, stepmother,”
said Skye evenly.

Anne laughed. “Oh, the babe does make you testy, doesn’t it?”

“He,” said Skye. “Dom and his father are convinced it’s a lad,
and they will accept nothing less.”

“Oh, I see. And how goes it with you otherwise?”

“Quite well, actually, Anne. Da did me a great service in wedding
me to Dom. Not only have I gained a lecher for a husband, I also
have one for a father-in-law. My husband’s sister is a common bitch not averse to stealing my possessions when she can, and whining
to her father and brother when she’s caught. It’s a charming new
family I have. I am most grateful to Da.

“My new home is in a shocking state of disrepair, and despite
the fine dowry Da gave me, I am told that no money can be found
to put it to rights. Half the household items I brought to O’Flaherty
House, the silver bowls and candlesticks in particular, are myste-
riously missing. In short, I am the mistress of a dung heap peopled
by a vain and randy old cock, a vain and randy young cock, and a
flighty hen.”

Anne was shocked. “Do you want to come home until the child
is bom, Skye?” Sweet Mary! She couldn’t let Skye have her baby
in that place!

“God, yes! I do want to come home, but they’ll not let me for
the next O’Flaherty must be born in his own home, Anne. I would
appreciate it, however, if you could arrange for Eibhlin to come to
me immediately after Candlemass. Though the child isn’t due until
early spring, a late-winter storm at the wrong time could delay her.
and I would be frightened if she were unable to reach me in time.
Besides,” Skye smiled wryly, “I need the company. Claire is none,
and neither she, nor Mag, nor our old cook knows about birthing
a child.”

Anne was now very upset. “What of the other women in your
household? The maids? The laundresses? Is there no midwife in your
village?”

“The few women we can get to work for us come from our nearby
village each day and return to their homes at night. They love their
children, and no family would allow their daughters in my house
because of Dom and his father. They will work O’Flaherty lands,
and pay O’Flaherty taxes, and fight for the O’Flahertys, but too
many of their girls have been abused by the O’Flaherty men for
them to allow their daughters in our house. Even so, Dom and Gilly
have had their share of the poor creatures. They go out on horseback
and hunt them down while the girls are working in the fields! The
O’Flahertys’ reputation is so bad that even Claire has no tiring
woman of her own.”

“I knew it was all wrong from the beginning,” said Anne. “I knew
it!”

“Then why didn’t you speak to Da as you promised me, Anne?
You encouraged him to wed me off the very morning of Conn’s
birth!”

“No, no, Skye! That’s not so at all! I tried to tell your father right
after Conn was bom, but they’d given me herbs in wine to make me sleep, and your father misunderstood me. When I finally awoke
two days later, you were wed, and had already been sent to St.
Bride’s.”

“Then you did not betray me to get me out of the house?”

“You foolish goose! Whatever made you think such a thing? Once
you were firmly wed there was nothing I could do. I only wish your
father had waited. Even though he was firmly set on the match,
perhaps I could have prevented the afterward.”

“No,” said Skye softly. “At least with Niall Burke I learned that
love can be sweet-not true, but sweet. Had it not been for him,
I might have gone my whole life believing all men were animals.”

“Some men are more vigorous in bed than others, Skye.”

“Dom is a pig,” was the flat reply.

“Why do you hate Niall if you’re grateful to him?”

Skye’s eyes blazed blue fire, and her voice was rock hard. “Be-
cause be betrayed me! Because he swore he loved me! Because he
promised to have my marriage annulled, to wed with me. Instead
he crept from my side before the dawn without even so much as a
good-bye kiss and rode merrily home to wed his high O’Neill! I will
never forgive him for that, Anne! Never.r

In the silence that followed, Anne O’Malley struggled terribly
with her conscience. She knew the full truth. Finally she decided
that silence was the best policy. To tell Skye the truth now would
do nothing more than hurt and anger her further. Nothing could be
changed now. Skye was wed, and pregnant with her husband’s child.
Niall Burke was wed. If either of them learned now of the deception
that had been practiced on them it would only cause greater unhappiness.

Who knew what those two strong-willed, passionate people
would do if they ever learned the truth?

Anne was saved from further talk by the announcement that dinner
was served. Once in the banquet hall they separated, for in deference
to the O’Malley’s value to the MacWilliam, O’Malley and his wife
were seated higher up on the board than Skye and Dom, who were
seated much below the salt. Dom, however, cared not one whit, for
thanks to his wife’s beauty and wit, he was very much the center
of a gay group of young people, some of whom were well-endowed
wenches with bold eyes. He anticipated a pleasant Twelve Days of
Christmas.

And Skye sparkled, determined to show Niall how indifferent she
was. It seemed to those who sat in the more favored places at the
table that those below the salt were having a far better time than
those above it. There was simply no denying that young Lady
O’Flaherty was a delightful and charming beauty.

Skye ate carefully, taking of the first course only a thin slice of fresh salmon, and of the second only the wing of a lemoned capon.
She ate two small pieces of newly baked brown bread, liberally
spreading the butter across it with her thumb. Around her, the other
guests gorged themselves on dish after dish, but Skye was revolted
by the overrich menu. When the sweet was served she enjoyed a
small tart of dried peaches, licking the clotted cream from about her
mouth like a child. Watching her from the high board, Niall longed
to kiss that mouth as much as he longed to strangle her for her
perfidy.

As the meal drew to a close, more of those seated above the salt
began drifting farther down the table to cluster about Skye. Occa-
sionally great bursts of laughter issued forth from the group. When
the dancing began Skye refused all but the least strenuous dances,
but even so she never lacked for partners. She moved proudly, and
with much grace, her gown showing to great advantage. Her blue
eyes sparkled, and her smile flashed again and again.

At the high board Niall Burke sprawled in his chair, glowering,
his big hand clutching his jewel-studded goblet so hard it was a
wonder the stem was not bent. His silver-gray eyes, pantherlike,
half closed, followed her wherever she went. Occasionally he took
great gulps of the dark red wine, emptying and refilling his cup
several times. She was beautiful, damn her, and even in her present
state outrageously desirable.

“Young Lady O’Flaherty is most popular,” ventured Darragh.

“Aye,” he growled, suddenly standing up and striding away from
his wife to join the dancers. The young man partnering Skye suddenly
felt a hard hand on his shoulder. Looking up to see his scowling,
black-browed host, the young man quickly stepped aside. Niall
clamped an arm about her waist and took one of her hands in his.
Her smile faltered, but she never missed a step.

“Should you be dancing?”

“I am expecting a child, my lord. I am not mortally ill with a
wasting sickness.”

“You’ve changed, Skye.”