"Perhaps that is so." Emma's shock and anger made her careless with
   her words. "But you ought to be ashamed." Feeling the sting of tears
   she turned her head. "Please, Majesty. By your leave, I would go to
   my chambers now."
   Elizabeth's tone grew haughty. "The cheek of you, my girl. Nay,
   Emma. You do not have my leave." She watched as the young woman
   sank down in her chair and stared morosely at a spot on the table,
   avoiding everyone's eyes. "But while we break our fast, we will speak
   of this no more. Later, when you are ready, we will speak." The queen
   smiled knowingly at the other women around the table. "For we
   intend to learn the name of this mysterious man, Emma Vaughn.
   Whether he be lover or lecher, it isn't fair to kfeep such a secret."
   Elizabeth signalled for the servants to begin. Those seated around the
   table fell silent. A serving wench handed Conor a chalice of hot
   mulled wine. He drained it quickly, hoping ifmight ease the throbbing
   in his temples.
   More than anything, he longed to take Emma into his arms and soothe
   her troubles. Watching her struggle with these callous women tore the
   very heart from him. The thought of her so close, and yet so far away,
   was the greatest pain he could endure. And still he sat, his voice
   silent, his true feelings carefully hidden behind a mask.
   "Did you enjoy yourself last night, Majesty?" Amena glanced from
   the queen to the silent, somber man beside her.
   "Aye. I did indeed. And this handsome rogue is the reason."
   "Should we take wagers on whether or not he was refused entrance to
   your chambers?"
   Elizabeth pretended to be shocked by her lady-in- waiting's meaning.
   Then, laying a hand over Conor's, she merely smiled, giving the
   impression that theirs had been a night of passion.
   The women exchanged smiles and nudged one another as they ate.
   And all the while, forced to sit silently beside Conor, Emma watched
   and listened. The queen's words had planted a seed of doubt. How
   could she be certain that Conor, prodded by anger and ale, had not
   made his way to the queen's chambers after leaving hers? The very
   thought of it made her want to weep.
   She struggled to pay closer attention, cautioning herself to learn all
   she could about this cruel, heartless game of truth and lie that was
   being played. For it was one she must master and play to win. The
   stakes were too high to allow for any errors.
   "Majesty, Lord Dunstan wishes to speak with you."
   Elizabeth looked up from her meal with a frown. ' 'More of that Irish
   business, I'll wager."
   When Dunstan entered the chambers and saw the laughing, chattering
   group of women, as well as his rival, Conor, with the queen, he
   managed a thin smile. "Forgive me.Majesty. I did not wish to disturb
   your morning repast. But I must relay urgent news."
   Elizabeth pushed away from the table, and the others scrambled to
   their feet. "We will walk in the gardens." She motioned for Conor to
   join her. "Come. I could use some sunshine."
   "Aye, Majesty." Conor was careful to keep any inflection from his
   tone. But he could tell, by the look on Dunstan's face, that the news he
   carried was important.
   Elizabeth turned to the women. "I will expect you by my side when I
   hold court this afternoon."
   Without waiting for their reply, she led the way out of her chambers,
   with Conor and Dunstan following.
   Outside, as they walked along the tree-lined pathways, Dunstan's tone
   was low and urgent. "What I have to tell you was relayed to me by the
   captain of Her Majesty's Ship Meridian, Madam. There are said to be
   several leaders in Ulster who have been raising vast sums of gold. A
   messenger from Philip of Spain has assured them of arms and
   supplies."
   "Philip." Elizabeth's eyes were narrowed in thought. "Even while he
   claims to pursue my hand in marriage, he schemes with my enemies
   to do me harm. Will they never give me peace?" Her head came up.
   "What about soldiers? Did Philip promise men, as well, to these
   Ulster leaders?"
   "I know not, madam. Captain Whitten said only that rumor is rife in
   Ireland that a revolt is being planned."
   Elizabeth turned to Conor. "Surely you have heard of these rumors."
   He shook his head. "Nay, Majesty. This is the first news I have of it."
   Dunstan gave a sneer. "Nor would he tell you if he knew, madam.
   These are his people who plot against you. They own his loyalty."
   Conor managed a laugh over the anger that simmered.
   "You forget, Dunstan, that I am here, far from my home, at the
   queen's invitation. It is difficult to hear the rumors of home while
   living in seclusion in the palace."
   "That could be remedied, O'Neil." Dunstan leaned close, his eyes
   burning into Conor's. "I would be only too happy to put you on the
   next ship heading to Ireland."
   "Beware, my friend." Elizabeth put a hand on Dunstan's arm. "If my
   two advisors cannot be civil, how can I expect civility from that
   barbaric little island?"
   Dunstan, watching Conor's eyes, saw the quick flare of anger before
   he managed to bank it. So, the Irish charmer was not quite as
   unfeeling as he pretended. Seeing a weakness, he attacked. "Majesty,
   I urge you to defy Philip and show these Ulster leaders the power of
   England. Send over enough troops to subdue these rebels and end all
   thought of rebellion once and for all."
   Seeing the queen's sudden interest in the suggestion, Conor was quick
   to ask, "And if Philip should make good his threat?"
   Dunstan shrugged. "I don't believe he'll risk his soldiers for such an
   insignificant country as Ireland."
   Elizabeth's tone was thoughtful. "You may be right. But if you are
   wrong, Dunstan, we will find ourselves involved in a war that would
   drain our coffers."
   "Then you simply tax the people. Especially the Irish peasants, who
   are the cause of this drain."
   "Do you think to get blood from a stone, Dunstan?" Conor kept his
   tone even, but his hands were tightly clenched at his sides. "My
   countrymen are already being burdened by unfair taxes, so that men
   like you can live in luxury."
   "I urge you to be careful, Conor O'Neil." Elizabeth's words were
   spoken softly, but there was a thread of steel beneath. "Such words
   are considered treasonous."
   "Then consider this. Majesty. If you burden the people with another
   tax to support a war in Ireland, a great many of your citizens will be
   uttering such treasonous words."
   Dunstan could barely contain his fury. "Will you allow this man to
   say such a thing in your presence, madam?"
   "I permit it for the same reason I permit you to speak your mind,
   Dunstan. You and Conor O'Neil are my advisors on this Irish
   problem. I will think on what you have told me, and what Conor has
   said, as well. When I have made my decision, I will summon you
   both."
   Dunstan lowered his head to hide the flare of anger. As always, his
   rival had reminded the queen of the one thing she most feared?? 
					     					 			?the
   loss of the love and devotion of her people. "As you wish, Majesty. I
   pray you consider my words carefully."
   When the queen's chief usher arrived to escort her to court, Elizabeth
   beckoned. "Come, Dunstan. Conor. I desire your presence at court.
   Your smile always manages to ease my tensions."
   "Aye, Majesty. It will be my pleasure." Conor held back. "But I
   would take a moment."
   "You won't be late?"
   He gave her his most charming smile. "I'll do my best to be on time."
   As soon as he was alone, he left in search of Emma. Without the ale to
   cloud his mind, he intended to beg her forgiveness.
   He prayed his words wouldn't fail him. Both the words he intended to
   speak to Emma, and the words he would use later to persuade the
   queen to resist war.
   Chapter Eleven
   ELmma paced her chambers, grateful that the seamstresses had
   finally departed. In her hand was a rolled parchment. The missive had
   been delivered by a rider from Clermont House. The cruel, cutting
   words were etched indelibly in her mind.
   You have kept me waiting too long. I warned you of the
   consequences of such a delay. Sarah was tossed from a pony
   cart. She is unharmed except for a broken leg. Do not attempt
   to see her unless you bring the information requested.
   Celestine
   This was exactly what Celestine had promised, if the terms of her
   scheme were not met with all possible speed.
   Sarah. Little Sarah was paying the price. For her sister's scruples. For
   her hesitation to do as she'd been instructed. Emma wouldn't have
   minded for herself. But the thought of her little sister, wounded and
   grieving and alone, was almost more than she could bear.
   She would do anything for Sarah. She clenched a fist.Anything. But
   she had waited too long to summon the necessary courage. She could
   wait no longer.
   At the knock at her door, she hurried forward. When she opened it to
   find Conor O'Neil, she was so startled, she couldn't think of a thing to
   say. She turned away to hide her confusion.
   Mistaking her silence for anger, Conor stepped inside and closed the
   door, leaning against it. He stared at the rigid line of her back for
   several moments before saying, "Forgive me, my lady. I know I have
   no right to disturb you. I came to apologize for my behavior last
   night."
   "Last night..." Words failed her.
   "Aye. Last night was a mistake. An inexcusable mistake, my lady. I
   had too much ale. And I..."
   "Nay, Conor...." She turned, hoping to silence him.
   When he spotted the anguished look in her eyes he forgot what he'd
   been about to say. In quick strides he crossed to her. "What is this?
   Am I the one who causes you such pain?"
   She shook her head, embarrassed at having been caught in such
   turmoil. "Nay. It is this missive. My little sister has been hurt. A
   broken leg from a spill from her pony cart."
   "Then you must see her."
   "I cannot." She backed away, sinking down on the edge of a chaise. "I
   cannot leave the palace."
   "But why? Surely the queen would not hold you here if she heard
   your reason for leaving."
   "The missive assured me that Sarah is fine."
   He dropped to his knees beside her and took her hand in his. "I have a
   little sister, too. Her name is Briana. She is a fiery little vixen with the
   heart of a warrior and the quick temper of a thundercloud. She can stir
   up trouble and make me angrier than a nest of hornets." He smiled at
   the image. His tone softened with affection. "But she is dearer to me
   than my own life. And if she were hurt, I would move heaven and
   earth to be with her."
   Emma was so touched by his words she could do nothing but stare at
   him. The tenderness with which he spoke of his sister struck a chord
   in her as nothing else ever could.
   "I can order a carriage and have you out of London at once, Emma.
   We could visit your father's estate and still be back at the palace in
   time to sup tonight with the queen."
   "You would do that for me, Conor?"
   "Aye. It's the least I can do to atone for last night."
   Her mind was working feverishly. If Celestine were to meet Conor
   O'Neil, she might believe that he and Emma had already become
   lovers. And that would lead her stepmother to be patient, in the hopes
   that, in time, the information she desired would be forthcoming.
   Would it be enough to fool Celestine and warrant a visit with Sarah?
   And perhaps with her father, as well? Her heart pounded at the very
   thought.
   "Last night is already forgotten, Conor." A lie, she knew. She would
   never be able to erase the memory of his fervent kisses. But right
   now, it wasn't love she needed, it was friendship. She desperately
   needed him to be her friend.
   "If it isn't too much trouble, Conor, I would dearly love to visit my
   father's home."
   He seized the opportunity to make amends. "Order your servant to
   fetch your cloak and help you prepare for travel, my lady. I'll have a
   carriage brought around to the courtyard immediately."
   When he was gone Emma rang for Nola. Then she walked to the
   fireplace and tossed the parchment on the flames, watching until it
   had burned to ash. She needed no reminder of Celestine's threat. She
   had already committed the hated words to memory.
   * * *
   "Oh, Conor." As the carriage rolled along, Emma spread her arms
   wide, as if to hug the day. "It feels so good to be away from the
   palace."
   "Aye." Conor studied her, enjoying the way she seemed to open like a
   flower the moment she escaped the stuffy formality of the palace.
   There was such joy in her it seemed contagious.
   He held the team to an easy gait as they moved along a wide,
   tree-lined road.
   "Have you ever seen the sky so blue?" Emma lifted her head and
   Conor followed suit.
   "Only in Ireland."
   "Aye. There's a special way the sun comes through the clouds,
   turning the land to softest green."
   He nodded. "And a smell to the turf as it's dug. And a taste to the air
   just before the rain."
   She glanced at him. "Do you miss it as much as I?"
   He nodded. "I miss it every day."
   She was stunned by his admission. "Then why do you stay here in
   England, Conor?"
   "Because this is where I must be, until my task is completed."
   She turned to him. "What task?"
   He shot her a smile that had her heart doing somersaults. "You ask too
   many questions, my lady."
   "Forgive me."
   When- she turned away he placed a hand over hers. At once they both
   felt the jolt.
   "I was only teasing you. I enjoy your questions. You may ask
   anything you please, Emma."
   She felt her heart flutter. Did she dare? But she had to have something
   to offer Celestine. Else she would be turned away at the door and
   forced to return to the palace without seeing Sarah.
   How to begin? Slowly. Carefully. "There are those who say you are
   the most influential man in 
					     					 			 England."
   He gave a sound that could have been a laugh or a sneer.
   "Do you deny that you have the queen's ear, Conor?"
   "Nay. I do not deny it. But Elizabeth is a singularly independent
   woman. She may listen to many people, but the decisions she makes
   are her own."
   "You cannot deny that she listens when you speak."
   "I hope so. With the queen, one never knows. But I like to think my
   words have some small effect on her decisions."
   "There. You see?" She gave him a bright smile. "So, we are back to
   the beginning. You are a very influential man. What influence did
   you bring to bear on her discussion with Lord Dunstan this morrow?"
   "Dunstan?" He turned to study her.
   "When he came to the queen's chambers this morrow, Dunstan
   claimed to have important information."
   "Aye. Rumors. Speculation. Nothing more."
   "How fascinating. Are these rumors something you can repeat?"
   Conor shrugged. "By now it is probably being angrily debated in
   Council." A Council meeting he'd been expected to attend. He felt a
   flash of guilt, then shrugged it aside. Emma was far more important
   than any Council meeting. "There is talk of a rebellion among the
   Ulster leaders."
   Her heartbeat quickened. She couldn't believe her good fortune. Even
   if it were no longer a secret within the palace walls, it wouldn't be
   well-known throughout the rest of England. This would be something
   Celestine wouldn't have heard yet. "Rumors of a rebellion? Do you
   think it's true?"
   "According to the captain of Her Majesty's ship the Meridian, Philip
   of Spain has offered to assist Ireland in a rebellion against England."
   "What has the queen decided?"
   Again that careless shrug as he turned the team from the road into a
   narrow, hedge-shrouded lane that smelled of primrose and lavender.
   "Elizabeth agreed to weigh carefully all that I said, and all that
   Dunstan said. I suppose, when she announces her decision, we will
   know whether I have any influence with her, or whether Dunstan's
   words carry the day."
   "What did you tell her, Conor?"