last far into the night."
With matching sighs they stepped apart and continued on to their
separate chambers, to oversee the unpacking and to prepare for a
lavish banquet and ball for the royal visitor.
Conor, dashing in black satin tunic and breeches, stood in the great
hall. All around him, the crush of invited guests milled about,
accepting goblets of ale and wine from the liveried servants who
moved among them. Though he continued chatting with the lord
mayor of a nearby village, he was aware of the exact moment when
Emma entered the room. He felt his heartbeat quicken.
She wore a gown of palest pink, the shade of a blushing rose. The
low, rounded neckline revealed the swell of high, firm breasts. Her
tiny waist was encircled with a girdle of pearls. The full skirt, dotted
here and there with more pearls, fell to the tips of fine kid slippers.
The full sleeves, inset with pearls, billowed to the elbow, then were
tapered to the wrist and banded with a rope of pearls. Her hair was a
mass of thick ringlets, pulled to one side with mother-of- pearl
combs, the burnished curls spilling over her breast. She wore no
jewelry at her throat or ears or on her fingers, which only seemed to
add to her unassuming beauty.
Conor saw the admiring glances of the men, and heard the whispers
of the women as Emma passed. How he longed to take her hand and
acknowledge his love for her. Instead, he had to be content to merely
offer a simple greeting.
"Good.even, my lady."
She paused, smiled. "My lord."
"Ale, my lady?"
She accepted the goblet from his hand, enjoying the brush of his
fingers on hers before acknowledging the introduction to the lord
mayor.
Conor saw Lord Dunstan walking toward them and whispered,
"Brace yourself, Emma. Dunstan's looking far too smug.v-'
"Ah. Emma, my dear. And O'Neil. How fortunate that I should find
you two together. You're just the ones I'm looking for. You're in for a
most pleasant surprise this night.
Conor gave him a steady look. "Surprise?"
Before Dunstan could reply, the earl entered the hall and announced
the arrival of the queen. All conversation ceased. The men bowed,
and the ladies curtsied, as Elizabeth made her way through the crowd.
Elizabeth accepted a goblet of ale and took her place in an ornate
chair positioned on a raised platform where she could be seen by
everyone in the great hall. From the elders of the neighboring shires
to the titled noblemen and their ladies, all eyes were fixed on the
queen.
She summoned Emma and the other ladies-in-waiting to join her,
then beckoned to Conor.
"Is this not a lovely place in which to refresh ourselves?"
Conor nodded. "Indeed, Majesty. The outpouring of love from your
people has been amazing."
"I quite agree." Elizabeth turned to her host and in regal tones
announced, "My dear Blystone. Your queen's heart is so filled with
joy at this magnificent setting, that I shall grant a number of favors to
the assembled. Let those who wish to petition their queen step
forward."
There was a moment's pause as the people glanced around, trying to
summon the courage to approach their monarch. Though it was a
common practice for the queen to grant such favors, many were too
timid to take advantage of the blessing.
While they murmured among themselves, they noticed a slight
commotion near the back of the great hall. As a woman made her way
forward, the crowd began to part. When she drew near, Emma and
Conor were stunned to recognize Celestine, looking every bit as smug
as Dunstan.
Celestine wore a gown of rich cloth-of-gold, and over it, a cape lined
with ermine. At her throat were dazzling diamonds, with more
diamonds at her ears and about her wrist. She looked far more regal
than the queen herself.
Hearing Emma's little gasp of surprise, Conor turned. In her eyes was
a look of pain.
"What is it, my lady?"
"Those were my mother's diamonds," she managed to whisper. "My
father gave them to my mother on her wedding day. Before she died,
she gave them to me."
It was, Conor knew, one more reason to despise Celestine.
Elizabeth seemed surprised to see her cousin so far from London. But
she quickly composed herself and offered a warm greeting. "I see you
have journeyed to Warwick to make me welcome, cousin. How
gracious of you."
Celestine curtsied and kept her eyes downcast. "I do indeed bid you
welcome, Majesty. But I have made the journey for another reason as
well. I would ask a favor."
"Then ask it. For I am feeling most generous."
Celestine lifted her head and stared past the queen to I where Emma
stood. Her lips curved into the merest hint of a smile. "I ask that, since
my husband has abandoned me, I be given all his titles, estates and
goods here in England."
"What do you mean, you have been abandoned?" The queen shot a
questioning glance at Emma, who kept her gaze lowered.
"My husband committed a most cruel and heartless act. He fled in the
night, taking with him my beloved little stepdaughter, and all the
wealth he could carry, leaving me alone and penniless, except for
these clothes and jewels which were on my person. Without the
protection of my husband's wealth and title, I will be at the mercy of
those to whom he owes tremendous debts. I could even end up in
debtors' prison."
Emma seethed with impotent rage. There was no way she could
expose Celestine's lies without implicating herself.
"What about Daniel Vaughn's other daughter, Emma?" the queen
demanded.
Celestine stared directly at Emma. "Has she pleased Your Majesty
with her service?"
"Indeed she has. I find her both sweet and selfless."
"I am gratified to hear that." Celestine's voice quivered with emotion.
"My stepdaughter, Emma, will always have a place in my heart and in
my home. Why, she is like my own dear child."
Elizabeth nodded, pleased at Celestine's response. "Very well,
cousin. Have my lord secretary draw up a list of Daniel Vaughn's
titles and holdings in England. They shall be yours."
Celestine gave a deep, dramatic bow, which nearly hid the satisfied
smile that curved her lips. But Conor saw it, and clenched a fist at his
side. The woman was a clever actress. And a shrewd thief.
He glanced at Emma's pale face and could see how she struggled with
shock and horror. Risking the queen's wrath, he touched a hand to
hers. It was cold as ice.
"What a cruel, spiteful woman," she whispered. "She strips my family
of everything of value."
"Nay," Conor muttered fiercely. "Don't despair, love. All she takes
are worldly possessions. They have no true value. Don't you see? You
and your father and sister have the things that matter. Love, family,
loyalty. Celestine can never touch those."
Emma swallowed back her tears and nodded. It was true. She had the
truly matter.
Conor stood in the darkness of the courtyard, studying the balconies
above him. It had taken all of his considerable skill to excuse himself
from the queen's chambers. Invigorated by the journey, and by her
warm reception here at Warwick, she had danced late into the night.
Even after she had made her grand exit, so that the guests could take
their leave and return to their beds, she had been too excited to give in
to sleep. Instead, she had insisted that Conor escort her to her private
chambers, where she hoped to continue the festivities.
"What is it, my charming rogue?" she had demanded when Conor had
suddenly slumped against the wall.
"I fear I've enjoyed the wine a bit too much, Majesty. Or perhaps it
was the fine food. Whatever the reason, I am feeling indisposed. Can
you forgive me?"
"There is nothing to forgive. You will rest. And on the morrow, you
will join me for the hunt."
"Aye, Majesty." He'd kissed her hand. "It will be my great pleasure."
And now, as the candles were being snuffed throughout the
household, he studied one balcony in particular, and tested the rope in
his hand.
It pained him that he couldn't take advantage of the night and go to
Emma's bed. The need for her was like an ache. But he had to get into
Dunstan's chambers. He was quite certain that was where he would
find Celestine. And where he might learn what other secrets she and
Dunstan had in store.
He tossed one end of the rope and felt it circle the railing before
dropping into his hands. Securing the rope, he tested its strength, then
began to climb. It was an easy matter to reach the balcony. From there
he studied the two shadowy figures in the bed, then, needing to be
closer, he slipped through the window and crept across the room.
A quick glance around showed him the perfect hiding place. But as he
crawled toward the armoire, he paused at the sound of Dunstan's
voice. "Did you see the look on Emma's face when the queen granted
your request?"
"Aye." Celestine gave a throaty laugh. "She thought she had bested
me, spiriting away her father and sister in the night."
"You can't be certain it was Emma."
"No matter who did the deed, the plan was Emma's. I'm sure of it. She
was always too headstrong for her own good. But no matter. Now the
little fool will learn a very painful lesson. No one crosses swords with
me. No one."
"You are a most spiteful creature, my love." At Dunstan's low growl
of laughter, the mattress shifted, and his voice was muffled against
her skin. "Which is probably why you and I are so evenly matched."
Conor seized the momentary distraction to open the door to the
armoire. But as he stepped inside he realized he wasn't alone.
Someone was already concealed inside. Someone wearing black
breeches and tunic, in order to blend into the darkness. Someone
whose breath came out on a hiss of surprise. And whose hair and skin
smelled of lavender.
Emma felt a big hand close over her mouth, shutting out the little yelp
of surprise that bubbled in her throat. Her eyes rounded in shock,
before narrowing.
"Not a sound," Conor whispered against her ear.
Slowly he removed his hand, and she took in several gulps of air to
steady herself.
She was sweating, she realized. And it had nothing to do with the heat
and stuffiness of the armoire. There was nothing she could do now
but hunker down beside Conor and wait for this interminable night to
end.
"What have you planned for the morrow?" Celestine's voice was a
low murmur as if filtered through the door of the armoire.
"The same as before." Dunstan's voice was pleasantly calm, with an
air of assurance. "Only this time I won't miss."
' 'Who will take the blame? Another peasant?'
"Not this time. There will be no need. I intend to lay the blame
directly at Blystone's feet."
"He's certain to protest his innocence."
Dunstan chuckled. "Dead men don't protest. As soon asI've finished
with our queen, I intend to put an arrow through his heart as well. And
then, when Huntington is king, I expect his first act to be to declare
war against that upstart little island across the sea. Conor O'Neil will
be the first victim of our war with Ireland. I'll ask that our new king
have him beheaded."
"What about Emma?" Celestine's voice was filled with venom. "I
want her dead as well."
"Never fear, my love. She will join her lover in death."
"Her lover?"
"Aye. She and O'Neil have been carrying on their affair in Greenwich
Palace, right under the nose of the queen."
While the two shared a laugh, Emma shivered, and Conor drew her
close against him in the darkness of the armoire.
Dunstan's voice was low with pride. "And while our soldiers are
crushing the Irish peasants, your brother, the new king, will see that
Blystone's titles and estates are confiscated and apportioned to the
hero who brought down Elizabeth's assassin."
Hearing those words, Emma gasped. Beside her, Conor pressed a
finger against her lips.
Dunstan laughed again. "I've always wanted to be an earl. And I've
always coveted Blystone's estate here at Warwick."
Celestine clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, my love. We arc,a pair,
aren't we?"
The bed creaked as the two came together in a storm of passion.
While the two were distracted, Conor caught Emma's hand and
dragged her from their place of concealment. Minutes later they
descended the rope and stood in the darkened courtyard.
Conor's voice was low with anger. "Do you know what a foolish,
dangerous thing you just did? What were you doing in their
chambers?"
Emma stood her ground. ' 'The same thing you were doing. Listening
to their plans, in the hope of finding a way to restore my father's
estates."
"I told you to trust me to find a way. If you'd have been caught in
there, you would have tasted Dunstan's sword."
"As would you, Conor."
"If only he would try," he whispered fiercely. "It would make for an
enjoyable interlude. Nothing would make me happier than to finish
what we once started."
She fingered the glint of silver at her waist. "As for me, I have my
knife. Now I'm going back up there and cut out Celestine's thieving
black heart."
He caught her roughly by the arm, halting her before she could step
away. "There are more important things to worry about than revenge
upon your stepmother. Do you understand what they plot?"
"Aye. To kill the queen and blame her death on Bly- stone."
"It's up to us to stop them." Though he spoke the words softly, she
could hear the steel in his words.
' 'Then it will give me great pleasure to cut out both their hearts. But I
will do it for myself, not for the Queen of England."
He gave a long, deep sigh, wishing there were time to tell her
/>
everything. But all he could say was, "We must keep Elizabeth safe
from harm."
' 'The English queen? How can you, who spy for Ireland, say such a
thing?"
"If Elizabeth dies, Huntington and Dunstan will wage a bloody war in
Ireland. There's no time to waste. Something Dunstan said reminded
me of what I'd forgotten. Now," he said impatiently, "I must ride."
"Ride? I don't understand. Aren't you going to go to Elizabeth and tell
her what you've heard?"
"If I go to Elizabeth with this wild tale, she will confront Dunstan
with my accusations, and he will simply deny. I need proof. I now
realize where I must go to seek it."
"Where will you go, Conor?" Too much was happening too soon. She
couldn't seem to keep up with his sudden shift in plans.
"To Fleet Prison. Pray I find what I'm looking for. And pray I make it
there and back before the queen leaves on her hunt. Or all I've labored
for over the past years will have been in vain." As she turned away he
caught her by the arm and kissed her long and hard. Against her
mouth he muttered, "I love you, Emma. No matter what happens,
never forget that."
"And I love you, Conor. With all my heart."
He stared into her eyes. "If I don't return in time, you must warn the
queen about the attempt on her life. She is not to go on the planned
hunt. And you must caution her not to confront Dunstan with your
accusations until I have returned. Do I have your word?"
She gave a reluctant nod of her head. "You know I can refuse you
nothing. Since you ask it, I'll warn her. But hurry back, Conor. For I
know not what we're about."
"That makes two of us," he muttered under his breath as he turned
away and hurried toward the stables.
Chapter Twenty-one
As the rooftops of London came into view, Conor leaned low over his
horse's neck and urged him into a gallop. His heartbeat kept time to
the pounding of hoofbeats. And in his mind, the same phrase was
repeated like a litany. No time. No time. Not nearly enough time.
He thought about the years he had spent preparing for this mission. In
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