fateful day of last May. The gossips had to admit that Skye and Dom were an outrageously handsome couple.
Skye and Dom moved with a stately slow pace as they proceeded down the length of the hall to greet their host and hostess, Niall and Darragh. Skye kept her head high, her face expressionless, her glance at a point just above the top of Niall’s head. For a brief instant she gave in to her curiosity and glanced at his face. His silver-gray eyes were ice, and sent a wave of bitter coldness sweeping over her to penetrate the very core of her heart.
She was puzzled. She had expected a smug smile, certainly not this disdain. She was discomfited by his attitude, but a quick glimpse of the tiny woman at his side restored her confidence. She felt joy surge through her with the knowledge that Darragh Burke was, for all her noble breeding, no beauty.
They had reached the dais now, and Skye looked past Niall and his wife to where the MacWilliam sat, his painful leg cushioned upon a stool. She flashed Niall’s father a brilliant smile, her even little teeth almost blinding in their whiteness. The old man let his glance sweep over her, and it gave her great pleasure to see the regret in his eyes. Now they both knew that he had made a mistake. She swept him a graceful curtsey. “My lord.”
It amused him to realize how quickly she had read his thoughts. He enjoyed a worthy adversary, and she would make one. If he had been twenty years younger he would have made an attempt to bed her himself. “My friend, Gilly O’Flaherty, tells me you’re a good wife to his boy,” growled the MacWilliam.
“I am,” she answered him coolly.
“I thought you were happiest being a pirate wench.”
“I am that too, when I can, my lord.”
“And are you good at that too, Lady O’Flaherty?”
“I’m good at whatever I set my mind to, my lord.”
He chuckled. “Welcome to you, and to your husband,” and then his eyes crinkled wickedly. “Undoubtedly you both remember my son. Niall.”
She felt Dom stiffen beside her, and she squeezed his hand reassuringly. They would not even acknowledge the insult. Dom’s good manners asserted themselves with the knowledge his wife stood by him. The two men bowed curtly to each other.
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 hospitality, 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
Skye and Dom moved with a stately slow pace as they proceeded down the length of the hall to greet their host and hostess, Niall and Darragh. Skye kept her head high, her face expressionless, her glance at a point just above the top of Niall’s head. For a brief instant she gave in to her curiosity and glanced at his face. His silver-gray eyes were ice, and sent a wave of bitter coldness sweeping over her to penetrate the very core of her heart.
She was puzzled. She had expected a smug smile, certainly not this disdain. She was discomfited by his attitude, but a quick glimpse of the tiny woman at his side restored her confidence. She felt joy surge through her with the knowledge that Darragh Burke was, for all her noble breeding, no beauty.
They had reached the dais now, and Skye looked past Niall and his wife to where the MacWilliam sat, his painful leg cushioned upon a stool. She flashed Niall’s father a brilliant smile, her even little teeth almost blinding in their whiteness. The old man let his glance sweep over her, and it gave her great pleasure to see the regret in his eyes. Now they both knew that he had made a mistake. She swept him a graceful curtsey. “My lord.”
It amused him to realize how quickly she had read his thoughts. He enjoyed a worthy adversary, and she would make one. If he had been twenty years younger he would have made an attempt to bed her himself. “My friend, Gilly O’Flaherty, tells me you’re a good wife to his boy,” growled the MacWilliam.
“I am,” she answered him coolly.
“I thought you were happiest being a pirate wench.”
“I am that too, when I can, my lord.”
“And are you good at that too, Lady O’Flaherty?”
“I’m good at whatever I set my mind to, my lord.”
He chuckled. “Welcome to you, and to your husband,” and then his eyes crinkled wickedly. “Undoubtedly you both remember my son. Niall.”
She felt Dom stiffen beside her, and she squeezed his hand reassuringly. They would not even acknowledge the insult. Dom’s good manners asserted themselves with the knowledge his wife stood by him. The two men bowed curtly to each other.
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 hospitality, 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
Similar Books
