The two men bowed from the room. There was a long silence after they had gone. The Queen spoke first. “Cecil has persuaded me that the match you propose between little Robin and Alison de Grenville is a suitable one. We have therefore given our permission, dear Skye.”

“Your Majesty is most kind. But I would beg a further boon.”

Elizabeth inclined her head.

“Since Your Majesty has approved this match, would you not also relieve Lord Dudley of his guardianship of my son, and appoint Dickon de Grenville in his place? Under the circumstances ‘twould be more natural, and certainly more convenient for de Grenville than for my lord Dudley.”

“Dudley remains my choice,” said Elizabeth firmly.

The tone of the Queen’s voice irritated Skye. Why was she interfering this way? “May I remind Your Majesty,” she said sharply,“that my late husband made me sole guardian over our children, an arrangement Your Majesty chose to overrule though I could never see the sense of it.”

“Only in the case of my godson, madam,” retorted the Queen. “The child needs a man’s influence in his life. I have provided him with the best man in England for that influence.” “Robin has de Grenville and Robbie as well as his half-brothers for male influence, Majesty,” argued Skye.

“Dudley is proud to have the care of little Robin Southwood. He has told me so himself, my dear Skye,” the Queen argued back. “I do not wish Robin to be under the influence of anyone from Court, madam. Not now. He is far too young. / am his mother, and that decision is my right.”

“No, my lady Southwood,” the Queen replied icily. “Robin’s fate is my decision as his Queen! Lord Dudley will remain his governor.” Skye finally lost her fine Irish temper. “Dammit, madam! Don’t you really know why Dudley wants charge of my son?” “Yes, my dear Skye, I do,” said Elizabeth Tudor.

Shocked, the Countess of Lynmouth looked deeply into the Queen’s jet-black eyes. What she saw there made her shiver. “My God,” she said softly. “You do know! Oh, madam, how could you? How could you give me to that man? My husband and I were always your loyal servants. Is this how you reward our loyalty?” The Queen looked angrily at Skye. “Madam, you try my patience, but because I value you I shall explain. Repeat what I tell you, however, and I shall deny it while you languish in the Tower. I shall never marry, my dear Skye, for if I did I should be neither a Queen nor a woman in my own right. I have seen how men can overrule women. As long as England has only a Queen to rule her, that shall not happen to me.

“My half-sister, Mary, never fully recovered from what my father did to her, and to her unfortunate mother, Catherine of Aragon. Their lives were ruined by my father. Poor Mary! He had cosseted and spoiled her from birth, then suddenly one day all that love was withdrawn and she was torn from her own mother, whom she never saw again, and declared a bastard.

“My own mother, I am told, was under constant pressure to produce a son. When she failed her life was wantonly taken. As for me, I never knew where I stood with my father. One day I was his darling, the next day I was sent down to Hatfield in disgrace. I learned, my dear Skye. I learned.

“Jane Seymour was, I think, fortunate to die. For all his fine mourning he did not care, for he had what he wanted-a son! Of my other three stepmothers Anne of Cleves was wise enough to give Henry Tudor what he wanted the most-a quick divorce. Poor Cat Howard, my mother’s cousin, lost her head as my mother did. I can still hear that tragic girl’s frantic cries when she realized they had come to take her to the Tower. She tried to reach my father, and they dragged her screaming from his chapel door.” The Queen shuddered with the memory.

“Catherine Parr was fortunate enough to outlive my father and marry the man she loved. I went to live with her and her new husband after my father’s death, you know. The Lord High Admiral of Englandland, Sir Thomas Seymour, was my stepfather. He was the handsomest man I’ve ever seen, and the greatest rogue who ever lived. While my stepmother grew bigger and sicker with his child, he planned my seduction. He did not think Catherine would survive the birthing and he sought power to thwart his older brother, Edward, who was my little brother’s guardian. He might have succeeded with me, for I was so innocent, but Kate realized his intent when she caught him kissing me in a very unfatherly fashion. I was sent from her house in disgrace, and when she died some weeks later of a childbed fever, Tom Seymour tried to marry me. He shortly thereafter lost his head. There were those who sought to implicate me in his perfidy, but I escaped them! I quickly learned that women who seek power in a man’s world-and make no mistake about it, my dear Skye, this is a man’s world-women like that have no friends among either sex. I am a woman who has power. I do not intend to hand it over to a man, not after all I have learned, and all I have suffered.

“After my sister Mary became Queen she became more and more suspicious of me. Strangely it was a man who was responsible for saving me: my brother-in-law, King Philip of Spain. Nevertheless I was sent to the Tower, and there I renewed my brief acquaintance with Robert Dudley. I love him, but I can never be his wife, and I most certainly will not be bis mistress. He is not wise enough to understand this so I flirt with him, and I give him the things he wants, in order to keep his hopes alive and his interest in me from straying. I cannot lose him. I cannot.

“At the moment Robert Dudley wants you and I am pleased to give you to him for you are no threat to me. You despise him. And always will, I suspect. Yet you will give yourself to him because I am your Queen, and I command it.”

“You can do this to me?” Skye repeated softly. “I who have been your friend? Your loyal servant? My God, madam, you are your father’s daughter! The English lion has spawned as vicious a cub as he himself was!”

Elizabeth winced. “Careful, my dear,” she warned.

“You are indeed the Queen of England,” said Skye ominously, “but then, I am Irish. While Geoffrey Southwood lived I forgot i t… but no more!”

Elizabeth Tudor laughed. “What a firebrand you are, my dear Skye. But we both know you are quite helpless before my royal office.”

A quick retort sprang to her lips, but she forced it back. “Have I Your Majesty’s permission to retire?” she said evenly. The Queen held out her beautiful hand, and Skye kissed it briefly. “You have my leave to retire, Lady Southwood. Go home to Devon, and plan my godson’s betrothal to Alison de Grenville. It will help to keep you busy, and out of trouble.”

Skye backed out of the Queen’s closet to rejoin Robbie and William Cecil. Her color was high, and her temper matched her flaming cheeks. She curtseyed to the chancellor and, with a furious look toward Robbie, swept from the room.

“It seems it is time for me to leave, my lord,” observed Robbie drily.

The two men shook hands and parted, Cecil to return to his paperwork, Small to escort the Countess of Lynmouth, when he finally managed to catch up with her, back to Devon. Skye was in a rage and refused to linger in London another hour. So the Queen thought to hand her over to Robert Dudley while she played her “perhaps I will, perhaps I won’t” game. The bitch! Skye had no intention of sitting meekly waiting for the fine Lord Dudley to use her as a plaything. For Robin’s sake she would appear to submit. But somehow she intended being revenged on Elizabeth Tudor.

Skye looked across at Robbie, who sat pensively smoking his pipe. “I want you and Dame Cecily to take the children for a few weeks,” she said. “I must go home to Ireland. It is a trip I have delayed far too long.”

“What did the Queen say to you, Skye?”

“She said I must play the whore for her precious Earl of Leicester.

She means not to marry, Robbie, but she’ll not admit it publicly. She fears a man’s dominance over her more than anything else. She wants Dudley, but she’ll not take him to husband. She has decided that I am no threat to their love, as so many others might be, because I dislike the man. Therefore, as long as I satisfy his lusts Elizabeth Tudor stands in no danger of losing her gallant. God! Geoffrey must be spinning in his grave to see me used thusly! And by the Queen!” “It’s monstrous!” Robert Small was deeply shocked. “What will you do?”

“What can I do. Robbie? I must submit for my son’s sake, and both the Queen and Dudley have counted on this. As long as I keep her secret and yield to Dudley, my son’s inheritance is safe.” “And this is your final word on the matter? No, Skye, I don’t believe it. You’ve some plan that you’re not telling me about.” “Robbie… are you loyal to the Crown?”

“Of course! I’m an Englishman.”

“And I am an Irishwoman, Robbie. We Irish have never been overfond of the English monarch impressed upon us. While Southwood lived, his loyalties were mine. And they might even have remained my loyalties had Elizabeth Tudor respected me as I once respected her. But she is just like all English rulers! She uses everyone around her to her own ends, overlooking kindness and friendship. She is a brilliant woman. I have no doubt she will govern England well. But after what she has done to me, she is my bitterest enemy!

‘Two of my children, nevertheless, are English, and I will not confuse them by tampering with their loyalties. Robin is the Earl of Lynmouth, a peer of this realm. The title is old. Geoffrey was proud of it and rightly so. Robin owes his allegiance to his Queen and, perhaps because he will be an attractive man as his father was, Elizabeth will treat him well.

“Willow was born here in England, and she is your heiress. I cannot endanger you and Dame Cecily, and I know that my dearest Khalid would not thank me for placing his only child in a dangerous situation. So for all your sakes, whatever I do it will be done in secret.”