Conor

  "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?"