Page 40 of This Heart of Mine (O’Malley Saga #4)
Murrough O’Flaherty made the passage from India back to England in record time. Thus it was that he anchored his ship in the London pool on a snowy day in late January, 1590, slightly less than a year after he had left. Putting ashore at the O’Malley warehouses, he learned that his mother and stepfather were in residence at Greenwood, having arrived back in England some three months earlier. A horse was immediately put at his disposal, and Murrough rode as quickly as he could to his mother’s house. The blustery weather gave him one small advantage in that the streets were fairly empty as late-afternoon darkness began to claim London town. The bitter cold had sent even the hardiest beggar seeking shelter. He galloped through the gates of the mansion’s grounds and up the sweeping driveway. Immediately the door was opened, and a groom ran to take his horse as he leaped from it.
“Welcome home, Captain O’Flaherty!”
said the elderly majordomo as Murrough strode into the main entry.
“Where is my mother?”
Murrough demanded.
“At this time of day she would be in her apartments resting with Lord de Marisco,”
came the servant’s reply.
Murrough took the stairs two at a time, moving from the main level of Greenwood to the third floor where the family’s private apartments were located. His knock brought Daisy to the door of Skye’s chambers.
“Captain O’Flaherty!”
Daisy fell back, and then she flung herself forward to hug him mightily. “Come in, Captain! Oh, I just knew that you’d get home safe. Where is Mistress Velvet and my Pansy? Have you come on ahead?”
“So many questions, Daisy,”
he chided her gently. “Tell my mother that I am here, please.”
“There is no need, Murrough,”
said Skye O’Malley de Marisco as she came through the door of her bedchamber into the dayroom. Taking him in her arms, she kissed him. “My dearest son, I am so thankful to have you back. Where is Velvet? Will she be coming along shortly? We’ve been so worried. It has been all I could do to prevent Adam from taking one of my ships and sailing back out to sea to find her.”
She held him away from her, looking at him closely, and then her marvelous Kerry-blue eyes clouded. “What has happened, Murrough?”
“How could you escape, Mother, and not leave us some word, some sign? I arrived back in Bombay in less than six months!”
“What has happened, Murrough? Tell me this instant!”
“Tell us both,”
came Adam de Marisco’s terse words as he came out of the bedchamber. “Where is my daughter, Murrough? Where is Velvet?”
Murrough took a deep breath. ’Twas best, he knew, to get the worst over with first. There would be time later for the full explanation. “Velvet is at the court of the Grand Mughal, Akbar. In his harem, to be precise.”
Daisy gave a little shriek of dismay even as her mistress cried out, “Dear God!”
Skye’s eyes closed, and she swayed where she stood as a thousand memories came flooding back to her. She was too strong a woman, however, to faint, and Adam’s arms about her steadied her enough to open her eyes. She could feel him trembling against her, and immediately her total concern was for her husband. Turning, she took his face in her hands. “I’m sure ’tis not as bad as Murrough has made it sound, my darling, but nonetheless I think I need to sit down. Sit by me, Adam. Please.”
She looked at her son as she settled herself next to her husband. “What happened?”
was all she could say.
“We reached Bombay in good time, Mother. I had not delayed a moment in gathering the ransom and returning with it. The Jesuit was awaiting us. He attempted to elicit the gold from me, but I reminded him that our bargain had been that you and Adam would be waiting for us on the dock so that we might be certain that you were both safe. He was finally forced to admit that you had escaped. He demanded the gold, nevertheless, and I told him that I had nothing to pay for. Naturally Father Ourique was not particularly pleased. He had come well prepared, Mother, with a goodly troop of soldiers who lay hidden on the docks. The Jesuit took Velvet and Pansy from the ship to the residence of the Portuguese governor, agreeing to return them when we delivered your ransom. I had no reason to believe that he would not keep his promise, and I could not endanger my sister by haggling. We put back to sea immediately, and the following day I returned with our fleet and the Jesuit saw to the unloading of the gold.
“When it was off our ships, Father Ourique and I rode to the governor’s palace to get Velvet and Pansy. When we got there, the bastard who is their governor told us that he had sent Velvet and her servant to the Mughal as a gift. I thought the Jesuit was going to have a fit where he stood, for he is an honorable man; and had it not been for the governor’s bodyguards, Mother, I would have killed Don Marinha-Grande then and there! I will give Father Ourique credit. He threatened the governor with excommunication, but the Portuguese bastard just laughed at him. It was no sin, he claimed, to send a heretic Englishwoman to Akbar’s harem. When the Jesuit reminded him of Velvet’s faith, that she was not a heretic but a loyal daughter of the church, the governor laughed and said that the Spanish king would not punish him for ridding the world of an English bitch.
“We left the palace then, and I spoke with the padre about retrieving my sister. He told me quite frankly that it was impossible. We could not remove Velvet from a caravan meant for the Mughal without an army, and once she arrived in his capital of Lahore it would be impossible to see her ever again. The Muslims are jealous of their women, and although the Mughal is more civilized than most, he is still a man of India. Father Ourique said we must face the fact that Velvet is lost to us.”
“The Jesuit is a fool then if he thinks I will allow my daughter to spend the rest of her life in some Muslim’s harem!”
snapped Adam de Marisco. He turned to his wife. “How soon before we can set sail, my love?”
“Not soon enough,”
said Skye. “Velvet is already a part of this ruler’s life. We have dealt with this sort of thing before, Adam. We must plan carefully, for we will get only one chance to retrieve our child. We have an advantage in that they will not suspect we are coming.”
“Their capital is hundreds of miles from the coast, Mother,”
said Murrough. “We might get there, but could we get back? It will not be as simple as your escape from Fez once was.”
She nodded. “I know. This will have to be different, and I will need time to consider it.”
“Every minute we waste brings Velvet closer to that devil’s bed!”
exploded Adam.
“My darling,”
Skye said matter-of-factly, “if Velvet was sent as a gift to the Mughal, he has already most certainly bedded her. It is not the worst fate that can befall a woman.”
“You were older, stronger, more worldly,”
Adam replied.
“My precious little Velvet is barely a child.”
“Your precious Velvet is an impossible minx who led me a merry chase at court before finally being brought to the altar,”
said Alexander Gordon, who had only heard the end of Adam’s sentence as he entered the room. “Murrough! What the hell possessed ye to take my wife off to India, and where is the wench? I’ve a score to settle with her, leaving me wounded and half-dead to be nursed by strangers!”
Murrough O’Flaherty’s jaw dropped open in his complete and utter shock. “You’re dead!” he said.
“If I am there’s none who’s yet dared to tell me so,”
came back Alex’s amused reply.
“Murrough,”
said his mother, realizing that there was very definitely something amiss, “I want you to tell me why you took Velvet with you when you left London. Alex, sit down.”
“First tell me where Padraic is,”
demanded Murrough.
“What the hell has Padraic to do with this?”
asked Adam.
“Where is he?”
“Why do you want Padriac?”
asked Skye. “What can he possibly have done? He has been down at Clearfields for months now, and I was only able to get him to come to London for Twelfth Night because I told him you should be back from India before the end of the month.”
“Exactly how long has he been at Clearfields , Mother?”
For a moment Skye’s brow furrowed in thought, and then she said, “I don’t really know, Murrough. Is it important?”
“Get him!”
said his elder brother grimly.
“Daisy,”
said Skye. “Fetch Lord Burke. Murrough won’t continue his story until you return.”
Daisy hurried out the door, and an uncomfortable silence descended upon the room. Skye looked at her husband of over seventeen years. He would be sixty this year, and his dark hair was already well silvered, but it only had the effect of making him more handsome and distinguished, she thought. His dark blue eyes were still lively. If he had a weakness it was his only child, their daughter, Velvet. How often over the years had she deferred to him in the raising of their child and all because she could not bear that he have any less than a perfect relationship with Velvet. She realized now that she loved them both too much. She wondered if Velvet would be able to cope with what life had forced upon her, for despite her short-lived marriage Skye knew that her daughter was still innocent at heart. Skye reached out and took Adam’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
He managed a weak smile at her and squeezed back, but then his eyes fogged over as his thoughts returned to his only child. In his mind she was still a little girl. Oh, granted she had been twelve and a half when they had left on their voyage, and many a girl was not much older when wedded and bedded; but he and Skye had arranged that she not have to marry until she was sixteen. They had intended to give her a little time at court under their careful supervision. He sighed. They had protected her and sheltered her so carefully, perhaps too carefully, he was now beginning to think. How would she survive the ordeal of being incarcerated within a harem? What did Velvet know of love except perhaps the little Alex Gordon had taught her in their short time together? He let his glance rest on the son of his old friend.
Alexander Gordon, the Earl of BrocCairn, sat stiffly and grimly in his chair. For close to a year he had been without his wife. His wife! That cunning, willful jade had deserted him in his hour of need to run off to find her parents. She had had him convinced that she was content to return to Dun Broc with him and behave like a proper wife. Instead she had taken the first opportunity she’d found to desert him. His hand itched to make contact with her delightful bottom. When he got his hands on her, she was going to learn what it meant to be his wife , the Countess of BrocCairn.
The door to the apartment opened and Lord Burke and Daisy hurried into the room. Murrough leaped forward, his face a mask of fury as he hit his brother a clout that sent the younger man sprawling to the floor. Everyone else in the room gaped in surprise as Murrough reached down to haul his brother up and hit him once again.
“You’re certain? I asked you! Do you remember, Padraic? I asked you if you were sure that Lord Gordon had been killed. You assured both Velvet and me that he had been. As I remember it you even became insulted that I should dare to question your veracity! Do you know what you’ve done, Padraic? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“You’re back safe!”
blubbered Padraic. “I made an error, Murrough. I’m sorry, but you’re back safe, and ’tis all right now, isn’t it?”
“Your sister is at this moment the prisoner of India’s Grand Mughal!”
roared Murrough. “She’s locked away in his harem, and we’ve precious little chance of ever seeing her again! Would you call that all right?”
He pushed his youngest brother from him disgustedly. “Jesu! You’re just like your father, Niall. You’re charming but totally heedless of your own selfish actions! You didn’t even stay long enough to tell Alex what really happened, did you? You ran back to Clearfields and hid away. Why didn’t you own up to your error and save him the anxiety? I could kill you with my own two hands!”
Padraic Burke, sprawled upon the floor, looked up apprehensively at his elder sibling. Murrough was totally right, and he knew it. Desperately he tried to explain his actions. “How could I tell Alex what a fool I had been running back to Velvet to announce his death, when if I had waited a few more minutes I would have learned he was merely badly wounded?”
“My death?”
exclaimed Alex, who had gone white when Murrough had said Velvet was in a harem. “Ye told Velvet I was dead?”
Now the earl looked as if he wanted to hit Padraic as well, and the young man, seeing the dark look on his brother-in-law’s face scrambled to his feet and moved closer to his mother.
“You sneaking little coward!”
snarled Murrough, stepping threateningly toward Padraic again.
Skye leaped up and stood between her sons. “Am I to understand that Padraic told you and Velvet that Lord Gordon had been killed? Why would he do such a thing?”
She looked at Alex. “What do you know of this, m’lord?”
“ ’Twas a duel,”
he muttered.
“A duel that needn’t have been fought!”
snapped Murrough. “And my sister begged you not to, but would you listen? Nay!”
“Stop this bickering!”
snapped Skye, who was becoming irritated and anxious to learn exactly what had happened. “You were injured in a duel, Alex, and Padraic, believing you dead, took it upon himself to inform Velvet. Is that correct?”
Padraic nodded.
Skye turned back to her elder son. “What I would like to know, Murrough, is why you took it upon yourself to remove your sister from London and take her on such a hazardous journey? You didn’t even allow her time to bury her husband. Why?”
“Because she begged me,”
he said weakly.
“Because she begged you?”
Skye was astounded. “Murrough! You’re a grown man, the father of children yourself. Your eldest son is only a few years younger than Velvet! How could you do such a thing?”
“Mother,”
he said brokenly, “you don’t understand. She was totally hysterical when she learned Alex had been killed. Hysterical and unreasonable. Robin and his wife weren’t here to help me, nor were Willow and James. My little sister begged my aid, and I could see no other way of handling it than the manner in which I did. She believed that Alex would want to be buried at Dun Broc , and she could not bear to make her first trip to what was to have been her home in order to bury her husband. She kept sobbing that Alex’s line had ended and that it was all her fault because she was not with child yet. There was simply no reasoning with her! I thought it better to take her with me than to leave her to God knows what mischief.”
Alex’s mouth compressed itself into a grim line. How typical of Velvet to run to her parents in a crisis. She hadn’t grown up at all.
Skye slumped back onto the settle next to her husband. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, and she could tell from his face that neither did Adam. People could make the most ungodly disasters of their own lives and those around them by their headstrong actions. Murrough thought he had done the right thing for Velvet, but it was, in the end, the wrong thing. He should have checked Padraic’s facts, for he knew his younger brother was often careless in his reports. Though Murrough had not waited, she knew, for fear of losing another day and missing the favorable winds across the Indian Ocean in his rescue mission of herself and Adam. How could she possibly upbraid him for what he had and hadn’t done? If anything she blamed Alex Gordon, who would fight a duel that needn’t have been fought, and Padraic, who had run off to his sister like Henny Penny to shout the sky down.
“All right, my sons, I believe I now understand this ridiculous muddle, and I blame all of you, including Velvet, whom I believed I had taught to face life better than that. Now we must consider what we have to do to regain her release and that of Pansy. At least the girls are together, for I know the people of the East and they would not separate Velvet from her tiring woman.”
“What will happen to them, m’lady Skye?”
quavered Daisy, and Skye, looking at her faithful servant and friend, was shocked. Never in her entire life had she seen Daisy lose heart, but then this time Daisy’s fears were for her child, not for herself.
“Velvet, I imagine, has already been made a concubine of this Akbar,”
Skye told her. “As for Pansy she will not be harmed. She will simply continue to serve her mistress, Daisy. You need have no fears for her.”
“My wife, some Turk’s concubine? You speak about your daughter’s fate quite matter-of-factly, madame,”
said Alex grimly.
“Akbar is the Grand Mughal of India, Alex, not a Turk,”
said Skye in an amused tone of voice. “If I speak matter-of-factly it is because I have been at one time in my life in the same position in which Velvet now finds herself. It is not always an envied position, Alex, but Velvet is my daughter, and she will survive! It could be far worse. We might not know where she was, or she might even be dead.”
“Perhaps it would be better if she were dead than in another man’s bed,”
said Alex bitterly.
Adam was at his son-in-law’s throat in an instant. “You young whelp!”
he snarled at the startled Scot, his knee on Alex’s chest pinning him in his chair. “Your father was my friend, but you’ve turned into a smug, selfish bastard. You came out of your Highlands when our backs were turned and forced my child into your own bed. Don’t think I don’t know the whole story of your scandalous courtship of my daughter, for I do!
“Once long ago I watched my beloved Skye be bartered into marriage with a stranger. Then I saw her almost destroyed by another man in her attempt to rescue Padraic’s father, her first love. At no time did I stop to consider that she had known other men. It was not important to me as long as she loved me, and it wouldn’t be important to you either if you really loved my daughter, but I’m not certain that you do. I believe you consider her naught but a possession, some sort of brood mare. I’ll not have it! If when we get her safely home you don’t want her, and frankly I’m not sure you deserve her, then an annulment will be arranged!”
He stood back and glowered fiercely at the young earl, and Alex shifted uncomfortably.
“Adam!”
Skye chided her husband gently. “Alex is upset as well he might be. In his own way he has been as sheltered as Velvet.”
She gently separated the two, then took Alex’s hand in hers. “I understand your distress, Alex, but whatever has befallen Velvet I know she still loves you. She is not a girl to give either her heart or her body wantonly, but I don’t have to tell you that for you know it, don’t you?”
“I can’t bear the thought of any other man touching her, madame,”
he said, low.
“Yet you’ve known other women, Alex.”
“ ’Tis different, madame,”
Skye smiled wisely. “Any man can have her body, Alex. Only you can possess her heart.”
He looked down at her and thought that she was probably one of the most beautiful women he had ever known. The beauty, however, was not simply limited to her face and form.
She had a great heart. He sighed. “We Scots are hard men, madame. I don’t know if I can be as generous of spirit as Adam.”
“Let us bring Velvet home first, Alex,”
she said, “and then we will see.”
He was very concerned with his own feelings, she thought. He did not stop to consider that Velvet, believing him dead, could easily fall in love again. She looked at Murrough once more. “You say that the Jesuits have some influence with Akbar?”
“Aye, there are two at his court, and he has allowed the order to have several priests in the country who work toward converting the huge population. Of course the two priests at court hope to convert the emperor himself. Father Ourique told me Akbar is amazingly intelligent, an enlightened ruler, and quite kindly in his character.”
Skye pondered her son’s words for several long minutes. The situation did not sound too discouraging. Praise from the Jesuits was not lightly given. They were a young order, having only been founded fifty-six years ago, but already they were wealthy and powerful. The motto of the order was Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam —To the Greater Glory of God—and their primary object was to spread the faith of the church. Working through the Jesuits, it just might be possible to regain Velvet’s freedom. Skye turned to her tiring woman.
“Daisy, find Bran and tell him I want him to go to Ireland and fetch my brother, Michael.”
“What can Michael do?”
demanded Adam.
“As bishop of Mid-Connaught, Michael will go to the Jesuits in Paris where an old friend of his is high in the order. We need to gain their cooperation in the rescue of our child. After all, my darling, ’twas it not a Jesuit who demanded that outrageous ransom from us? A ransom that was paid. Was it not a Jesuit who placed our child in the care of that dreadful man, Marinha-Grande, who then sent her, a good and loyal daughter of the church, to an infidel lord for immoral purposes? Adam, my darling, if the Jesuits hadn’t meddled, then our child would be safe today.
“The way I see it is that the Jesuits owe us for this terrible travesty. We shall, of course, show our further gratitude once Velvet is safely returned to us, but they must first use their influence to get Michael to the Grand Mughal; and once he is there, they must aid him in convincing Akbar to release Velvet into her uncle’s care so that she may be returned to her family, and to her husband whom she believed dead.”
“It is possible,”
pondered Adam. “It’s just possible that such a thing might work.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
asked Alex.
“To my knowledge,”
said Skye, “Akbar is a Muslim. No true believer would keep in his harem the wife of a living man. I am certain that once Akbar is told that Velvet’s husband lives he will give her her freedom.”
“I want to go with your brother,”
said Alex.
“No,”
said Skye quietly. “Velvet will have suffered more in the last year than she has ever done in her entire life. She will need the time during the voyage home to rebuild her physical and emotional strength, Alex. She will need to be alone. Your strong presence would only result in a heavy burden of guilt upon her. I will not allow you to do that to my daughter. Go home to Scotland. You have been gone from your lands for well over two years, and your people need to see you. We will send you word when Velvet’s arrival is imminent. It will be well over a year from now, Alex.
“The voyage itself is of several months’ duration each way. Once Michael is in India, he must travel hundreds of miles inland to Lahore and the Mughal’s court, present his plea, and travel back to his ship. Yes, it will take well over a full year if not more. Go home to your Scotland. It is better that way. Here there is nothing for you to do.”
What Skye did not say to her son-in-law was that she was more than aware that he had taken a mistress, pretty Alanna Wythe, the daughter of the silversmith whose house the wounded Earl of BrocCairn had been carried to after his duel and who had nursed him in Velvet’s stead. Skye believed it would be best to separate Alex from his chère aime before her daughter returned home. Oh, Alex might amuse himself with the girls on his estate, something he had no doubt done in the past, but Alanna Wythe could become a much more serious threat to her daughter’s happiness should Alex become attached to her. Sending him back to Scotland would end the relationship, and Mistress Alanna would look for another protector.
“I’ll go,”
said Alex finally. “My men are anxious to be home again and have waited almost a year for me to make this decision. You are right. There is nothing for me to do here in London. There is one thing your Daisy should know, however. My man, Dugald, pledged himself in handfast to her daughter Pansy a month before she disappeared with Velvet. He’ll be happy when we learn the lass is safe and coming home. He really loves that saucy little wench.”
Skye smiled. “I’ll tell her and Bran. I think, too, that Dugald should speak with them, to ask their blessing out of courtesy. Bran Kelly loves all his children, but Pansy as the eldest girl was always a particular favorite with him.”
Alex nodded. “I’ll see to it, belle-mère.”
“Go along with you now, all of you. Murrough, make your peace with Padraic. I’ll have no more of your brawling. What’s done is done.”
“There’ll be no more fighting, Mother, but I’ll not make any peace with Padraic until Velvet is safely home,”
growled Murrough, glaring at his youngest brother.
“ ’Twas not me who rushed Velvet out of the country,”
muttered Padraic, flushing hotly.
“ ’Twas not me who gave her a fit of hysterics by insisting that her husband had been killed,”
countered Murrough, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.