This Heart of Mine (22 page)

As they escorted her to her barge, Robin Southwood could not help but notice that Leicester did not look particularly well. His hair and beard were suddenly white, and his too-florid complexion coarse. He had also grown fat with too much good living and his many personal indulgences. Remembering how a once slender and elegant Leicester had long ago abused his mother and misused his position as Robin’s godfather, the Earl of Lynmouth could feel little pity for the man. True, he was ever loyal to the queen, but in his favored position he had often misused that power. Robin stepped forward as Elizabeth Tudor approached the quay and, bowing with a little flourish, kissed his sovereign’s hand.

“Ah”—Elizabeth smiled warmly—“my lord Southwood. Are you for London then?”

“Aye, madame, but only for a short while. Merely long enough to visit the O’Malley-Small warehouses in order to choose fabrics for my bride. I am anxious to take her to
Lynmouth
to see her new home and to meet my little daughters.”

“Will you not stay in London long enough to await your mother’s return, my lord?”

“Mother’s last letter this past spring said that she would come to Bideford first, madame. It is my daughters, I suspect, who draw her to Devon.”

“The beautiful Skye, a grandmother!” said Leicester with an exaggerated sigh. “ ’Tis not to be borne!”

“We all grow older, my lord,” Robin returned.

Robert Dudley looked sharply at the younger man, but Robin turned a bland face to him and smiled pleasantly.

“Bring your bride to court when you next come to London, my lord Southwood,” the queen said graciously. “We shall be happy to receive her.”

“As always, madame, you are too kind. God grant Your Majesty a safe trip.”

The queen passed on to her barge, and Robin moved down the quay to his own vessel. The incoming tide swept them swiftly up the Thames to London, which was already celebrating the Armada’s defeat at the hands of England’s brave seamen. The streets, draped in festive sky blue silk cloth, were packed with people hoping to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth Tudor so that they might cheer and salute this bold queen, defender of England. Arriving from Tilbury, she was transferred into a great gold coach decorated with a lion and a dragon holding up the arms of England at its front, while four gold columns held up a canopy in the shape of a crown over her head. Beneath it, the queen in her white velvet gown sat accepting her people’s homage, a relaxed smile upon her face, her hand waving in salute to the happy crowds.

Services of thanksgiving were held at both St. Paul’s and at St. Paul’s Cross, where the banners of the captured Spanish fleet were displayed to the delight of the crowds. There were bonfires, dancing, feasting, and tournaments to celebrate the miraculous victory. The formal services of thanksgiving would be held on November 17, 1588, a day that would also mark the anniversary of the queen’s thirtieth year as England’s ruler.

The queen in her good humor was overly indulgent of her young goddaughter, Velvet de Marisco. So it was that Velvet found herself spending more time at Lynmouth House than at court. She was helping Angel to pick out fabrics for all the gowns that Robin was having made for his bride. Never had the young Countess of Lynmouth been faced with such incredible bounty. Never in her life could she remember having more than two dresses at one time, and usually they were either remade from someone else’s outgrown garment or of the plainest fabric. Angel was stunned by the profusion of gorgeous fabrics presented to her. Amazed, she watched as Velvet, heiress born and raised, chose bolt after bolt of the incredible stuffs.

“That ruby red velvet, that emerald brocade, the pink silk, and, of course, the violet. No, no! Yellow is not Lady Lynmouth’s color, dolt! Now that amethyst with silver stripes has
possibilities.” Velvet turned to her sister-in-law. “What do you think, Angel?”

Angel laughed. “I think it’s too much, Velvet. We’ve already enough fabric for a dozen dresses.”

“Dearest Angel, you are the Countess of Lynmouth, not some little royal ward now,” Velvet teased her friend. “You will need dozens of gowns.”

“I give up! You and your brother are totally incorrigible. I shall never in a million years wear all the gowns you insist on having made, nor the jewelry Robin has lavished upon me.”

“Yes, you will,” Velvet said with great assurance. “Oh, it’s true you’re going down to Southwood for a while, but I guarantee that once Mama is back from her voyage, you’ll be invited to
Queen’s Malvern
, and Her Majesty has already insisted that you and Robin return to court. You’ll need everything we’re having made and more!”

“What is she like?” Angel asked.

“Who?”

“Your mother. I’ve heard … Well, everything said about her is so contradictory.”

Velvet chuckled. “She is the most marvelous woman alive, Angel, and she will love you as Robin and I do. I don’t doubt everything that you’ve heard is contradictory. Mama is so fabulous that there is no other woman like her in the world. My father is her sixth husband, and she has had healthy children by all but one of them. For many years she was head of her family in Ireland and took care of them all. Along with Sir Robert Small, who has been my mother’s partner for many years, she built up a huge trading empire. O’Malley ships have been bringing spices to England for years, although now that the Portuguese have a stronghold in the Indies it is much harder. That is one reason my mother undertook this voyage. She wanted to obtain for England the same privileges that the Grand Mughal has given to the Portuguese. Still, despite her many activities, none of her children has ever been slighted, or felt unloved, and we are all close.

“Of course, Robin holds the highest rank of us, although he is the fourth born. We have two O’Flaherty half brothers: Ewan and Murrough. Then comes our half sister, Willow, the Countess of Alcester. Then there are our Burke half brother and sister, Deirdre and Padraic. My father has been married to Mama longer than any of the others. They have been wed sixteen years.”

“What are Robin’s little girls like?” Angel was obviously concerned that her stepdaughters like her.

“Beth has just turned three this year, Kate was two in January, and little Cecily will be two in December. They are dear little things with Alison’s blue eyes and Robin’s blond hair. They don’t remember their mother at all, even Beth for she wasn’t even two when it happened. You are their mother now, Angel, and for them you will always be. You need have no fears in that direction.”

Suddenly the door into Angel’s bedchamber was flung open, and as they looked up, startled, Willow, Countess of Alcester, stalked into the room. “Is
this
the bride, Velvet?” she demanded. Willow was an extremely beautiful woman with Skye O’Malley’s black hair and her father’s amber-gold eyes and skin. There was an exotic look to her for all her English ways.

“Willow!
Oh, I’m so glad to see you, and yes! This is Angel, Robin’s new wife!”

“Could you not have informed me, Velvet? James and I hurried to London to celebrate the queen’s great victory, and after we had paid our respects to Her Majesty, I was accosted by Lord Dudley, oozing with his usual sly innuendos, this time about Southwood’s bride. Have you at least had the decency to inform the others, or is there some reason it is to be kept secret from the family? Will Mama approve?” Though Willow was several inches shorter than her younger sister, there was a regalness about her that was intimidating.

“We have been back in London but two days, Willow,” Velvet said calmly. “Scarce time to inform the family. ’Twas far more important to Robin that Angel be clothed decently and as befits the Countess of Lynmouth. After all, Mama will be returning any day now.”

“Mama will not be returning until next spring, Velvet. Robin has had word this very day.”

“What?”
Velvet looked as if she were about to burst into tears. “What has happened? Why is she delayed?”

“I don’t know,” snapped Willow. “You will have to ask Robin, for it is he who received the communiqué. Besides, ’tis not as important as this marriage.” She turned and fixed Angel with a searching gaze. “
Who are you?
Are your people landed? I know nothing, but I intend to know all!”

“I must go and find Robin,” Velvet said. She turned to her new sister-in-law. “Don’t be afraid of Willow, Angel. Her bark is far worse than her bite, and she has always been our little matriarch. Tell her everything. She will love you as the rest of us do.” Then, picking up her skirts, she hurried from the room, her elder sister’s voice echoing in her ears as she ran.

“Impudent chit!”

A little frown upon her face, Velvet moved swiftly down the stairs to the next floor of the house and along a hallway to her brother’s library. She burst in without even stopping to knock. Both Alex and Robin were there bending over a map. They looked up, annoyed, as she barged into the room.

“Is it true? Is it true that you received a message from Mama? That she is not to be home until next spring? Why didn’t you tell me, Robin? What shall I do when this damned betrothed of mine arrives on the scene, which he is bound to do any day now?” Then she began to sob. “I want Mama and Papa, Robin!”

Alex strode across the room and gathered the weeping girl into his arms. Looking over her head at Robin, he said in an even voice, “Enough of this charade, Robin! I will not have Velvet terrorized any further. Sweetheart, look at me. I am the Earl of BrocCairn, your betrothed husband, and I love you. Please don’t be frightened any longer, I beg you!” He kissed the top of her head, making soothing noises at her.

Safe in his arms, it took a moment or two for his words to penetrate her brain, but then Velvet shrieked with outrage and pulled furiously away from him. She looked angrily at her brother. “You knew of this, Robin? You knew who he was?”

“Of course I knew, Velvet. He is an old friend.”

“You lied to me!” she shouted at him. “Both of you lied to me!”

“What lie?” demanded Robin. “No one lied to you.”

“You said he was Alexander, Lord Gordon!” She angrily stamped her foot, and her midnight blue skirts shook with a furious hiss of silk.

“He is, you little virago. He is Alexander Gordon, the Earl of BrocCairn. There was no lie told to you.”

“But not the full truth either,” she accused. “Oh, I will never forgive you! Never!
Neither of you!”

Robin’s lime-green eyes narrowed in sudden anger. Grasping his sister by her upper arms, he shook her, enraged at her behavior. “You spoilt little minx, do you know how lucky you are in Alex? He has all the rights, Velvet.
Not you!
It is his right to demand an immediate marriage with you, and if I were wise, I am thinking, I would insist upon it, for I am convinced it is past time you had a lord and master to teach you a woman’s proper place. God knows Mother and Adam never have. They have spoilt you to the point of ruination! Alex, however, felt if you had the time to learn to know him,
you could be brought around. He has been far more sensitive of your feelings than you have been of his.”

Velvet pulled away from her brother. Rubbing her arms where he had bruised her, she drew herself to her full height and said, “I shall return to court immediately, Robin. I thank you for your hospitality. I have aided your wife in the choosing of fabrics, but now that our elder sister, Willow, is here she can take charge. She is far more knowledgeable than I in matters of the latest fashions.”

“You will remain here if I have to lock you in your rooms, Velvet! I shall ask your release from the queen, and we will celebrate your marriage as soon as possible so that you and Alex may return to
Dun Broc
before winter.” He glowered at her icily, every inch the great lord.

“Go to hell, my dear brother!” she spat back at him. “Try to force me to the altar and I will create a scandal the likes of which the Tudor court has never seen!” She turned to gaze scornfully at Alex. “And what have you to say about all of this,
my proposed lord and master
, my betrothed?”

“My dear, I am of a mind to release you from the agreement our parents made ten years ago. I have never had to force a woman to my bed yet, and frankly I am not sure you are to my taste with your russet hair, your bad manners, and your temper. I seek a woman for my wife, not a spoilt brat.”

“Oh!” Velvet looked outraged, and Robin hid a small smile of amusement.

“Nevertheless,” Alex continued, “the uniting of our families was a dream of both my late father and your father. Let us wait until the spring when your parents return home to make any irrevocable decisions.”

He had stung her and Velvet now retaliated wickedly. “Very well, my lord, but you understand that we are both free to seek our pleasures where we may until then.”

“Of course, madame,” was his equally cool reply.

Throwing him a final outraged look, Velvet turned on her heel and exited the room, slamming the door behind her.

“She ought to have her bottom paddled,” said Robin angrily.

“Thank you for telling her it was I who suggested giving her time to accept our marriage.”

“It was the least I could do under the circumstances, Alex. Why did you think now was the moment to tell her who you were?”

“In the few weeks Velvet and I have gotten to know one
another, I believed we had become friends. I realize now that I have miscalculated.”

“Hell, man, you should have let me arrange the wedding and be done with it. Velvet would have settled down once she realized she had no other choice. She is a stubborn chit, but not a stupid one,” Robin said.

“Nay, she’s not stupid, but you would have miscalculated if you had tried to force the marriage now, and I would be the fellow who had to live with the consequences, Robin.”

“What will you do then, Alex?”

Alex chuckled, and it was a deep, rich sound of pure mirth. “I think, Robin, my friend, the time has come to give Mistress Velvet de Marisco a lesson in tactics. I love her, Rob, and I believe she is beginning to love me. But I shall teach her a lesson that will have her begging for our marriage within a very short time, I promise you.”