Skye made a face. “I don’t want to marry him, Anne!” The words
tumbled out all by themselves.

Anne O’Malley was suddenly serious and fully sympathetic. “I
know, love. I know, and I do understand.”

“Please, Anne, please speak to Da. He adores you, and he’ll
listen to you. He’d do anything for you!”

“Oh, Skye, I’ll try. You know I will. But it will do no good.
Your father is a man of his word, and he has given his word on this
marriage. You’re the last of his girls, and he wants you well settled.
Young O’FIaherty is a very good match for an O’Malley of Innisfana.”

“I hate him!” came the whispered reply. “He’s always undressing
me with his eyes.”

“Perhaps it will be different when you’re wed,” soothed Anne,
though in her heart she knew it wouldn’t. “Maidens are often fearful
of the unknown. But really, there is no cause for alarm, my love.
Tomorrow I will come and explain it all to you, Skye.”

“Speak to Da, Anne! Please, promise me you will!”

“I will, Skye. I promise I will.”

The two women moved down the steps to the main hall of the
castle, and all the while Anne was aware that Niall Burke’s eyes
were fastened to her beautiful stepdaughter. At the bottom of the
steps he was there, tucking Skye’s small hand in his arm, wordlessly
sweeping her away while Anne watched helplessly. No one else saw
the dangerous, hopeless attraction between the two. She must speak
to Dubhdara!

The floor beneath Skye’s feet seemed to have disappeared. She
was floating. Shyly she glanced down at the hand covering hers. It
was big, and square, and brown. It was magically warm, and she
could feel the strength hidden deep within it. Her heart was pounding.
Why did he affect her this way?

They walked over to the great fireplace, which was flanked by
enormous stone lions. It was red with the oak logs that now burned
merrily with an occasional crackle and snap. They stopped and observed the leaping flames for a moment. They did not look at each other, but merely stood side by side.