That, of course, was not quite the matter, thought William Cecil, and the queen knew it. Conn had been found wrapped in a torrid embrace with Eudora Maria di Carlo, whose ample bosom was bared to his caresses, whilst the lady had ardently fondled the Irishman. It was in fact the ambassador’s wife’s delighted little cries of pleasure that had drawn attention to their dark corner in the first place. A knock upon the door to the queen’s private closet brought one of her secretaries into the chamber.
“Madame, Baron Marston, and his family are without. The baron says it is urgent that he speak with ye. It pertains, he says, to the Conn O’Malley matter.”
Lord Burghley raised an eyebrow. What was this? Was there going to be more difficulty relating to young O’Malley?
“Let Lord Holden and his family come in,” the queen said, and she turned to Cecil. “I do not think this augurs well, William.” She seated herself in a comfortable highbacked chair for Lord Holden was known to be long-winded. Garbed in a white velvet gown with a wide gold lace neck wisk, the bodice of the gown bejeweled and embroidered with heavy gold threads in the pattern of grape vines, the sleeves slashed to show gold tissues beneath, Elizabeth was a regal figure. Upon her head was a red-gold wig for her own hair was thinning, and fading. Still she was a handsome woman. She wore about her slender neck the chain with the pendant Conn had given her, and in her ears were fat round pearls.
Lord Holden entered the room quickly as if he were being pursued by all the fires of hell. Behind him came his wife, looking rather somber for once, and his pretty twin daughters whose almost identical faces bore signs of recent weeping. All three of the women were garbed in plain black velvet gowns with simple white lace ruffs, a departure, the queen thought, from their usual gaudy garb. Lord Holden, a portly gentleman, was also garbed severely in black. All four made their obeisance to the queen.
She nodded back, her mouth quirking itself into a small frown. “Say on, my lord! Ye said ye wished to speak to me in the O’Malley matter.”
“It distresses me, madame, to grieve ye in any way for I know how fond ye are of the Irishman, still I must report this to ye even though in doing so I expose myself and my own honor to shame.” He paused to glower at his wife and his daughters. “When the scandal of Ambassador di Carlo’s wife was made known, my own wife could no longer hide her own dishonor. She confessed to me that Master O’Malley had seduced her. Since it was necessary as an object lesson to our own dear impressionable daughters that she admit her guilt before them, ye can well imagine our surprise and horror to learn that the same Master O’Malley had also debauched our innocent girls as well! I demand that ye punish this deflowerer of virtuous wives and maidens! I would prefer not to make public my humiliation and mortification in this matter, but I shall if ye do not chastise this reprobate. I will hold my own wife up to ridicule, my precious daughters to the fate of spinsterhood, but I will see Conn O’Malley chastened!”
“God’s foot!” The queen’s face bespoke her outrage, but whether that outrage stemmed from Conn’s behavior, or Lord Holden’s tone, Lord Burghley was not certain. “He shall be banished from court!” Elizabeth pronounced loftily. “I will not have such a man about me! As for you, my lord, it would be best if ye removed yer wife and daughters to Kent for the rest of the winter. They are invited to return at Whitsuntide, but until then it is best they return to the country to meditate upon their many female weaknesses. Prayer and fasting will help them to turn from the path of wickedness. We will help ye to make
suitable
marriages for the twins, and the sooner, I would think, the better.”
Lord Holden fell to his knees, and taking the hem of the queen’s gown kissed it reverently. “Madame,” he said, “ye are all that is wise and good! I thank ye most heartily for this fair judgment. We will leave immediately this day for Marston Manor, but I will return as quickly in order to be of aid to ye.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Stay with yer ladies, my lord, until the month of March begins. I feel they will need yer guidance if they are to be properly repentant. Be sure to beat them well to start them off along the right path, and then return to me.” She held out her hand so he might kiss her ring.
Lord Holden’s face glowed with his admiration of the queen. Kissing the proffered hand, he scrambled to his feet, and roughly herded his women from the room, the door closing firmly behind him.
For a moment the room was silent, and then the queen swore. “Damn him! Damn him! Damn him! I shall not be able to ask him back to court for at least a year, William, and it will be unutterably dull without him. How could he? Lady Holden
and
her daughters? It really is quite unforgivable!”
“Lady Holden,” said Lord Burghley in an effort to soothe his mistress’ feelings, “has a reputation for taking lovers, madame. She is discreet, but I cannot believe that even her husband is unaware of her conduct. As for her daughters, they are said to be a pair of teasing drabs, and though the father might be fooled, neither came innocent to court or young O’Malley, I am certain. He is a rogue, and filled to the brim with mischief, but he is no wanton taker of innocence, madame.”
“Bring me my embroidery frame, Aidan,” said the queen to the maid of honor who had been seated quietly, and unobserved on a stool in a corner by the fire.
Quickly Aidan St. Michael hurried to obey the queen, and then pulling her stool next to Elizabeth Tudor, she sat down, and prepared to hand the queen her threads as she needed them.
“Nonetheless some devil in hell has encouraged both Lady Holden, and her offspring to confess their misdemeanors with Conn, placing, of course, the entire burden of guilt upon him. I doubt not ’twas jealousy on the part of all three. Lord Holden had no other choice than to come to me in light of the episode with the ambassador’s wife,” continued the queen. “I had intended to banish Conn from court for a few weeks, perhaps through the Lenten season. Now I must keep him away for a goodly time, and where to send him? It cannot be Ireland. That is too far, and what would poor Conn do? I will wager although I have never met them, that he is nothing like his elder buccaneer brothers. I had thought to send him to the de Mariscos, but will they be able to tolerate him for an entire year?”
“He must be married, madame,” said William Cecil quietly.
“Married? Conn? No!”
“There is no other solution, madame,” Lord Burghley replied patiently. “He will come back to court when his period of punishment is over filled to the brim with even more mischief. Who knows what scandals he will cause then? Ye must marry him to a respectable woman before he even leaves court, and then send him off to his estates for at least a year. Let him beget a legitimate heir on his bride while he cools his very hot heels.”
“He has no property to which I may banish him,” the queen said.
“He has gold, madame, and comes of a good Irish family. He is a member of your own guard. He is a most eligible young man. Find him a wife with property.”
“That is not as easy as ye make it sound, William. It cannot be a great name for his blood is not blue enough for a great name. It cannot be a nobody for he is too good for just some anonymous wench. It cannot be a Protestant lord’s child for he was raised a Roman Catholic, although I have not known him to seek a priest while in England. He seems content to follow the Church of England, but one cannot be certain. Each one of these things narrows our field of search, and I cannot think of one girl who would be suitable as a wife for Conn O’Malley,” finished the queen.
“I can.”
For a moment both the queen and Lord Burghley thought that they had imagined the voice that spoke those words, and then their eyes swung to the figure seated by the queen’s knee.
“Was it ye who spoke, Aidan St. Michael?” demanded Elizabeth.
“Yes, madame.”
“Who is this young woman, madame?” asked Lord Burghley, his eyes interested and bright.
“She is the daughter of the late Lord Bliss, and one of my royal wards,” said the queen looking hard at Aidan.
Aidan flushed, and her heart hammered fiercely within her chest, but her gaze never wavered.
“Tell us then, Mistress St. Michael, who in your opinion is suitable to be wife to Conn O’Malley?”
“I am, madame.”
There!
She had said it. Nothing could change the words whatever the queen said or did.
“You?!”
The queen looked surprised.
“Tell me, Mistress St. Michael,” said Lord Burghley in a kindly tone, “what makes ye think that ye are an eligible
partie
for Master O’Malley? Do ye know him? Are ye perhaps in love with him?”
“I am of a good family, my lord, but my lineage is not that of a great line. It was my great-grandfather who was ennobled by her majesty’s own grandfather. My mother was Irish, a cousin of the Countess of Lincoln, and so that makes me half-Irish. Although I was born a member of the Holy Mother Church, after my mother’s death my father and I found we preferred the new church. I am an heiress of considerable fortune, and my lands border those of Master O’Malley’s sister, Lady de Marisco. It would appear to me that I possess all the qualities necessary to be Master O’Malley’s wife, and although I enjoy the court I long to go home. I am indeed as her majesty terms me, a country mouse.”
Lord Burghley looked to the queen. “The maiden is correct, madame. She is a perfect choice!”
“I do not know,” hedged the queen. “Do ye really want to leave me, Aidan St. Michael? I believed ye happy here.”
“How could I not be happy in yer presence, madame? Ye have been to me as a wise elder sister.”
Lord Burghley hid a small smile. Elizabeth Tudor was more than old enough to be the girl’s mother. He could see the girl was determined to have her way, however, and her reasons interested him greatly.
“Nonetheless,” Aidan continued, “I am uncomfortable amid the sophistication of yer court. I am a simple girl, madame. Besides my people need me. A bailiff is not fit substitute for the mistress or the master of the land. Then, too, ye will remember that ye promised my father that ye would find a husband for me. Can ye think of another man ye might wed me to, madame? It is true that I do not know Master O’Malley, but he seems to me a kindly man.”
“I cannot deny that,” Elizabeth said.
“Then I could be content, perhaps even happy with him. Oh, madame! Forgive my boldness, but ye have seen many arranged marriages in yer lifetime, some happy, some not. With Master O’Malley I have the chance of a good marriage, but if ye can name another man ye would prefer to give me to, I will accept yer judgment in this matter.”
Clever, thought Lord Burghley! She has reminded the queen of her promise to a dead man, and no one has greater honor than the queen. The queen is boxed in for she must find a bride for O’Malley, and she cannot, I am certain, think of another bridegroom for Mistress St. Michael.
The queen was silent for a long few minutes during which time Aidan scarcely drew a breath. She had fallen in love with Conn O’Malley on Twelfth Night when he had kissed her. It distressed her because the truth was that the kiss had meant nothing to him, and she knew it. She did not really know him, and he had shown no indication of wanting to know her. In a sense she was throwing herself at him, and yet when Lord Burghley had said that Conn O’Malley must have a wife, Aidan had known she could not bear it if another woman were to wed with the big Irishman. The queen’s voice made her start.
“What do you think, my lord Burghley? Shall I wed Master O’Malley to Mistress St. Michael? Is this the answer to my problem? He will gain a great deal by such a match.”
“Besides a pretty wife, madame, what else is there?” Lord Burghley’s gaze as he looked at Aidan was almost a fatherly one.
“He will gain a large estate, half of the fortune her father left, and that in itself is considerable. Then, too, there is a last request that Payton St. Michael made of me which I granted. The late Lord Bliss, may God assoil him, was the last of his line. He asked that any gentleman wed to his daughter be required to take his name, and be permitted to continue the title of Lord Bliss. By the marriage Conn O’Malley becomes Conn St. Michael, Lord Bliss.”
William Cecil, Lord Burghley, nodded, and after a moment’s consideration said, “And, as an English nobleman, one less Irish rebel to consider, madame. It will bind his sister, Lady de Marisco, even closer to yer realm.”
“Then so be it, Aidan St. Michael. I will keep my promise to yer father, and ye’ll have Conn O’Malley for yer husband. Ye understand, however, that there can be no fuss or fanfare about yer wedding? Due to the nature of Master O’Malley’s offense ye must be quickly wed, and sent immediately from court. What is today’s date, my lord?”
“February the twelfth, madame.”
A smile spread over the queen’s face. “It is pure providence!” she said. “Perhaps this is indeed a marriage made in heaven. Ye shall be wed two days hence on the fourteenth, St. Valentine’s Day, Aidan St. Michael. The ceremony will be a private one in my chapel, and ’twill be attended only by myself and Lord Burghley. Is it agreed?”
“I would also have my tiring woman, and young Lord Southwood, madame. I do not object to privacy, but I would have more witnesses.”
“Very wise, Mistress St. Michael,” said William Cecil. “Particularly yer choice of the young earl.” He turned to the queen. “Master O’Malley’s nephew is an ideal witness, madame. He will, of course, bring word of the marriage to his mother and stepfather for I hope ye will allow him to travel with the newly wedded couple as far as
Queen’s Malvern.
He will carry a personal message from yer majesty herself to the de Mariscos which will explain the situation. Lady de Marisco should be quite pleased with the way ye’ve treated her brother.”
“Excellent!” exclaimed Elizabeth Tudor, and then she turned to Aidan. “Go now, child, and do yer packing. Ye will be wed early in the morning on St. Valentine’s Day so that ye will have the whole day for travel. It will take ye several long days to reach yer home. Ye may tell yer companions here that I am allowing ye to return to
Pearroc Royal
for a visit. No other explanation will be necessary at this time.”