Skye O'Malley by Bertrice Small Read Free Book Online Page A

slip to the floor. The girl was now completely naked. As she turned, the sisters held up Skye’s long dark tresses to show the assembled guests that nothing was hidden beneath her hair. In the candlelight, her beautiful body glowed like mother-of-pearl.
    An audible sigh rippled through the room as the men and women admired and envied the young virgin’s perfection. The bridegroom was visibly affected. Skye was exquisite, with her small, pink-tipped breasts, her slim, long legs ending in slender, high-arched feet.
    Suddenly the guests were thrown into shock as Niall Burke pushed forward, boldly allowed his silver eyes to slide over the bride, and announced, “O’Malley! As your overlord I claim the droit du seigneur of this woman.”
    The master of Innisfana swallowed hard. “A poor jest, my lord,” he replied, now very sober. He was hoping to God that Burke was only drunk, but he knew Burke wasn’t. “My daughter’s no peasant wench,” he stated firmly.
    Lord Burke drew himself up to his full imposing height. His proud glance swept the room. “I am your overlord, Dubhdara O’Malley. You swore obedience to me on my tenth birthday. It was by my most generous hand that you received this barony of Innisfana. Our laws demand that you comply with my request.”
    “No!” shouted Dom. “She’s mine! Mine! And I am not your vassal.”
    Lord Burke looked scornfully at the younger man. “I will remind you, O’Flaherty, that your family owes obedience to my father—whose deputy I am. I claim the droit du seigneur of your bride. Will either of you gentlemen endanger your families and insult me over a girl’s maidenhead? Besides, O’Flaherty, when I am finished schooling her she’ll be much more to your taste. You are not, I understand, very good with virgins.”
    There was a sharp intake of breath around the room. Dubhdara O’Malley shifted uncomfortably. Then suddenly it came to him that the final decision rested with his new son-in-law. “I yield to you, my lord,” he said quickly, nearly sighing with relief.
    The complete silence in the hot little room was finally broken by Dom’s voice. “I’ll pay a penalty, my lord,” said Dom. “You have but to name it.”
    Niall Burke eyed Dom arrogantly, then drawled, “Your life, or the wench’s maidenhead.”
    A gasp went up. This was high drama, the sort of thing that would be spoken of for years to come in both the halls and hovels of Ireland. Why was Lord Burke so intent on having the bride? To be sure, she was a lovely creature, but it was very rare for an overlord to claim the droit du seigneur of a vassal’s bride.
    Dom O’Flaherty whitened, then reddened, with fear and helpless rage. His eyes swept over Skye, then back to Lord Burke. He pictured them locked in an embrace. Damn the bastard! thought Dom. He’s got me trapped! At last he said savagely, “I yield. And damn you to hell, my lord Burke!” Turning, he stamped from the chamber, followed quickly by the O’Malley and the rest of the guests.
    Niall Burke walked slowly to the door of the room and, shutting it, slammed the bolt home. Turning back, he looked at Skye. Throughout the whole exchange, she had remained as silent and still as a hiding rabbit. “I do mean to take you,” he said quietly.
    Her eyes were enormous, blue-green against her white face. “I know,” she answered softly. “You’ll have to tell me what to do. No one has ever told me what is required, and I am very ignorant. Anne didn’t have time to explain,” she finished helplessly.
    A warm smile lit his features, and he was suddenly her Niall again. “I think, sweetheart,” he said in a kindly voice, “that the first thing would be to get you into bed. You look chilled.” With a sweeping movement he pulled the covers back and, scooping her up, gently tucked her beneath the down coverlet.
    “Kiss me, Niall.” It was a simple request, and it was also the first time she had called him by his name.
    “I have every