"Ye've another month or so to go," said Skye comfortingly.

"I don't know," said Aidan. "Look at me! I'm simply enormous with this baby, and I feel as if I'm going to burst at any minute. There is no getting comfortable anymore. I wasn't this way with Valentina. I am most relieved that yer sister Eibhlin has come early from Ireland to be with me."

"Ye birthed Valentina easily enough without her," Skye soothed.

"This is different," said Aidan firmly. "This is very different."

"Ye knew that Valentina was a girl," said Skye trying to lighten her sister-in-law's mood. "Can ye tell about this babe?"

"That's another odd thing," said Aidan. "I don't really know this time. Sometimes I see a boy, and other times 'tis another la.s.s." She attempted to gingerly shift her position, but her bulk made it almost impossible, and with a sound of irritation she flung the tiny shirt she had been sewing aside, and pulled herself into a standing position. "I am going to go and lie down, Skye," she said. " 'Tis the only time now that I can get half comfortable!"

"Go along," said Skye sympathetically. She had borne eight children of her own, and she knew how difficult these last weeks of a confinement could be. She watched Aidan waddle from the room, and for a moment she almost envied her brother's wife. Her youngest child, Velvet de Marisco, would be eight years old in just two weeks; and seeing Aidan so full with life, so wonderfully fertile, Skye longed for just one more child. If only she might have given Adam a son, but Velvet's birth had been an incredible miracle for them, and she knew she could ask G.o.d for no more. This marriage was the happiest, the most peaceful, the most contented match she had had, and she knew that she and Adam would live on together until death parted them; but no. Death would only be a temporary parting for them. They would always be together even into eternity.

"Yer deep in thought," said Eibhlin O'Malley as she came into the cheerful hall, her black robes swirling about her. " 'Tis a lovely day, and Aidan's gardens are wonderful."

"I was thinking I wished I could have another child," said Skye honestly.

"What? At yer age? Yer forty!"

"I don't need to be reminded of my age, Eibhlin," laughed Skye, "and besides 'tis impossible anyhow. Still, I cannot help but envy Aidan the coming child."

Eibhlin plunked herself into the chair that Aidan had so recently vacated, and said, "For a woman with a head for business, ye've a soft heart for children, Skye. Ye've done well by them all too for all yer not a conventional mother."

" 'Tis only what Da drummed into me all those years ago, Eibhlin. Family first! Family always! I've lived my life by that creed for all my adventures." She chuckled. "They haven't turned out so badly either, have they, my seven babies with their five fathers?"

Eibhlin smiled at her younger sister, and the smile relieved the severity of her dark religious habit. "Out of all Da's bairns we four, ye, and me, and Michael and Conn were the odd ones. Michael insisting upon the priesthood despite being Da's eldest son and heir. Me with my doctoring, and ye and Conn with yer adventuring. I wonder what the next generation will turn out to be like. I hope that I'll be here to see it."

"I think we'll all live to ripe old ages," said Skye. "One reason we were never like the others was that we were always questioning, always seeking, and Eibhlin, I believe we still are. As for the next generation, children never really turn out to be like their parents. They have their own fates to find and to follow."

"How did ye get so wise, sister mine?" Eibhlin smiled.

"By living life to the fullest," came the reply.

"Excuse me, m'lady." Mag was suddenly by Skye's side.

"Yes, Mag?"

"Mistress Aidan isn't feeling very well. I can't be certain, but I think she may be getting ready to have the baby."

Eibhlin frowned. " 'Tis a bit too early yet," she said, and then she stood up. "Come along, Skye, and let us see what it is that is troubling Aidan."

The two women followed Mag from the hall and up the stairs to the master chamber. There Aidan, her pretty face beaded with moisture, lay upon her bed, looking very uncomfortable. Eibhlin hurried over to her patient, and did a cursory examination.

"How do ye feel?" she demanded of her sister-in-law.

"Like I felt before I went into labor with Valentina," came the nervous reply. "It's too soon, Eibhlin, isn't it? This baby is not due for several more weeks."

"Babies come when they choose to come, Aidan, not when we say that they should," chuckled Eibhlin. "If the bairn decides to be born now, 'tis a bit early, but it should be all right. It might be a bit smaller, but if its lungs are good then we'll have no problems. Besides, did ye and Conn ever consider that ye might have miscalculated? Get up now, and walk about a bit. The whole problem might simply be that ye've a cramp from lying in one position." She helped Aidan to her feet, and together they walked about the room.

Aidan, however, sensed that her hour had come, and that instinct was shortly borne out when without warning her water broke, and gushed down her legs to the carpet. "G.o.d's nightshirt!" she swore. "Mag, get the girls to mop the rug lest it be ruined." She turned to Eibhlin and Skye. "I think I'm going to have a baby," she said wryly. "Mag, send for my lord."

At Eibhlin's suggestion Aidan preferred to move about the room for the time being. She felt no pain at all at this time, and her cheerful att.i.tude allowed Eibhlin to prepare for the imminent birth. A large, rectangular oak table was brought into the room to be set up as a birthing table. On Eibhlin's instructions it was padded with cotton quilts. The windows were opened to allow fresh air into the room on this bright and warm spring day, for unlike so many others, Eibhlin did not believe in delivering her patients in a gloomy atmosphere. A fire was carefully tended in the fireplace, and kettles of water hung from the iron arm over the flames. On another nearby table Eibhlin laid out clean cloths, and her medical instruments should she have need of them.

Conn came in from the fields where he had been supervising the planting of the estate farm, and gave his wife a hug. Eibhlin could have blessed his discretion for he made no mention of the fact the child was coming a little early. Instead he said, "I'll be in the library doing a bit of paperwork. When ye want me I'll come right up, sweetheart."

"Ye've already done yer part, and done it very well," she teased him. "If I let ye come in for the birthing, promise me that ye'll not get giddy at the sight of my blood the way ye did last time."

Conn flushed, and then laughed ruefully. "Well ye must admit it was quite a shock for me to see how a baby is born, and ye said some very unkind things to me in the midst of yer labor."

"I'll probably say even worse to ye today," she needled back, and then she winced. "First pain," she told Eibhlin.

Conn departed for his paperwork, and Aidan began the painful, yet joyful business of bringing another life into the world. She continued to move about her chamber, alternately walking and sitting awkwardly as the hours slipped by. By sunset, however, she was experiencing hard labor, and Eibhlin and Skye along with Mag, helped Aidan onto the birthing table.

The pains continued, coming now with greater duration, and less time between the pains for Aidan to catch her breath. Eibhlin sent for Conn to come into the room if he was to be present at the birth of the child. As Aidan had delivered Valentina in her bed, Conn was very surprised to see his wife propped up upon the birthing table, her legs up and parted.

"Sit by her head," Eibhlin ordered her brother. "Ye can be of help to Aidan if ye will but encourage her in her travail." She looked directly at her patient. "The baby is so anxious to enter this world that it would come feet first. I am going to reach into yer birth ca.n.a.l, and turn the babe around, Aidan, so ye must not push for a moment."

The room was silent, and for several minutes no one dared speak, and Aidan realized suddenly that she was actually holding her breath. Then Eibhlin looked up and smiled, and Aidan knew that she had been successful, and she relaxed.

"Now," said Eibhlin, "I want ye to push, and push again with all yer might. That's it, Aidan! Bear down hard!"

Aidan grunted and groaned with the effort, and when her eyes met the worried ones of her husband she was tempted to laugh for she remembered in this instant her threat to call him evil names in her labor. Instead, however, she concentrated upon the business at hand, and was rewarded several minutes later when Eibhlin cried out, "That's my girl! Here it comes! Oh, aye, here it comes!"

Aidan panted fiercely, and bore down again. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut with her effort, and so she was very relieved to hear Conn say, " 'Tis born, sweetheart! The baby is born!" And then she heard a cry, and the infant began to howl loudly. She opened her eyes then, and looked to Eibhlin questioningly.

" 'Tis a la.s.s," said Eibhlin, "and a prettier, more perfect little girl I've never seen."

Aidan smiled, but then looking ruefully at Conn she opened her mouth to speak, but instead she gasped, and then she cried out sharply. "Eibhlin! The pains are back! G.o.d's nightshirt! 'Tis worse than before!"

Eibhlin bent down to examine her patient, and then she looked up with a huge grin upon her usually serene face. "There's another bairn yet to be born," she said. "Ye've twins, Aidan! Trust ye, Conn, to do the unusual! This will drive Brian, Shane, and Shamus wild with envy!"

They couldn't help but laugh at Eibhlin's comment, even Aidan chortled in the midst of her labor. Several more minutes pa.s.sed during which Aidan worked to bring forth the second child in her womb. Finally with a mighty groan, and a fierce pain that she was certain had split her in two, the second of the twins slipped forth from her body and into Eibhlin's waiting hands. It was already crying as it came, filling its tiny lungs with great gasps of air, and waving its tiny fists in outrage at having been forced from the warm and safe shelter of its mother's body.

"A boy!" said Skye with a cry of delight. "Aidan, ye've birthed both a son and a daughter!"

Aidan felt the tears filling her eyes. She had so very much wanted to give Conn his son. Not that he was not happy with Valentina, but the shadow of her parentage would always be there no matter how much he might love her. With the twins there was no doubt, and now the boy was come they had an heir for Pearroc Royal! Aidan could not help but think how happy her father would have been about it.

While Mag and Skye cleaned the twins up, and then swaddled them in soft cloth, Eibhlin saw to the afterbirths, and Aidan and Conn glowed at one another speaking in soft tones. Finally Conn was chased from tlie-chamber, and he descended into the hall of the house to inform first his elder daughter, Valentina, and then the servants, of the successful and safe birth of his first son, and his second daughter. Wine was brought, and a health drunk to the two new St. Michaels born this eighteenth day of April, in the twenty-third year of the reign of Elizabeth Tudor, this year of Our Lord fifteen hundred and eighty-one.

When afterward and at long last the house had quieted down, and Skye had ridden home across the fields to Queen's Malvern, and Eibhlin was abed with the rest of the household; Conn and Aidan settled down in their bed, the twins in their cradles, to talk.

"Since," said Aidan, "I named Valentina, 'tis only fair that ye get to name the twins." She snuggled down against his shoulder.

"I'd like to name the boy after my father," he said.

Aidan was somewhat taken aback. "Ye'd name our son, Dubhdara? 'Twill be a hard name for an English boy to bear, Conn."

He laughed. "Dubhdara was but a nickname, it means Black Oak. My father loved the black oaks, and insisted that all the prows of his ships be built of it. That's where the name came from, Aidan. He was O'Malley of the Black Oak. His Christian name, however, was Coilin, which in the English is Colin. I'd like our son to be called Colin St. Michael, if ye don't object. The la.s.s I'd call Anne after my mother, and as Valentina's second name is Elizabeth after Bess, I'd give Annie the same second name, too. Anne Elizabeth St. Michael. We owe the queen far more than we can ever repay her for. We owe her for our love," and propping himself upon an elbow Conn looked down into his wife's dear face, and then he kissed her gently.

Aidan felt her heart swell with the unbearable weight of her happiness, and for a moment she wondered if it were wrong to be so content. She had the Handsomest Man at Court for a husband. She had two lovely daughters and a fine son. No, she decided. It was not wrong to be content; to be grateful for what they had was only saying thank you to G.o.d. In her darkest hour she had never given up because she had received the greatest gift of all; and it had always, would always, sustain her in the hardest of times. She had been given love. How had Conn once put it? For a moment her brow furrowed itself in thought, and then a smile lit her features. Yes! That was it! With another smile she looked into his eyes, and answered him.

"Aye, we owe the queen a mighty debt. Conn, but how shall we ever repay her for gifting us with a love for all time?"

A Note from the Author -.

I hope that all of you who have read this book have enjoyed it, and if those of you who have read all the O'Malley Saga to date were a bit confused, allow me to explain.

Conn O'Malley first appeared as a grown man in All the Sweet Tomorrows.. When he popped out of my head, and onto the pages of my ma.n.u.script I thought, now here's a fellow I can do something with in the future, and then put him out of my mind. This Heart of Mine was already into the publishet when the mail on All the Sweet Tomorrows began pouring in, and a good deal of it said in brief, "WE WANT CONN!"

I knew then that his appearance as a settled husband and father in This Heart of Mine was not enough, and I began to ask myself just how such a rogue ended up with a wealthy wife, a large estate, and a houseful of children. A Love for All Time is the answer. Conn and Aidan's story, however, could only fit in somewhere within the twelve-year time span between All the Sweet Tomorrows and This Heart of Mine. So instead of going forward in time with the O'Malley Saga, we have gone backwards.

If that's all clear to you I hope you will take a minute of your time to sit down, and write to me at P.O. BOX 765, Southhold, New York II97I or at I like hearing from my readers, but most important I like your input because it's you fot whom I am writing. Good Reading, and love from, Bertrice Small.

My dear Readers:.

I know how you have waited for the reissue of A Love for All Time, which is Book III in the O'Malley Saga, and I hope you have enjoyed it. In 2002, however, I am going to bring you the first book in a brand-new series. The book is t.i.tled Rosamund, and the series is called The Friarsgate Inheritance.

The time is the late fifteenth and the early sixteenth centuries. The place is England and the border country of England and Scotland. At the age of three, Rosamund Bolton is orphaned. The heiress to a large land holding and several great flocks of sheep, she is taken into custody by her paternal uncle, Henry Bolton, who marries her off to his own five-year-old son. Two years later the children are infected with measles, and Rosamund's husband perishes. Desperate to keep his control of the Friarsgate inheritance, Henry Bolton makes a second marriage for his niece, this time to an elderly relation on his wife's side who is beholden to him.

But the groom, Hugh Cabot, is not as helpless or as doddering as he would seem. He treats his child bride like the daughter he never had, educating her and teaching her about her heritage and her responsibilities as the owner of Friarsgate. As Rosamund grows up, her uncle is not pleased to see the independence she is exhibiting. He realizes that it is Hugh who is thwarting his plans to eventually control Friarsgate. Hugh, too, has seen Henry Bolton's desire for the great estate. He applies to King Henry VII to take the wardship of his young wife should Hugh die; and indeed he perishes shortly thereafter under mysterious circ.u.mstances.

When Henry Bolton moves to take control once more of his niece, he discovers that he cannot. The king brings his new ward to court, putting her into the care of his queen, Elizabeth of York. The queen is grieving for the loss of her son Prince Arthur, but it is in her household that Rosamund meets Katherine of Aragon and young Prince Henry, who will eventually become Henry VIII. When the queen dies in childbed, Rosamund's wardship is given to the king's mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, the Countess of Richmond.

Rosamund is married off at the age of fifteen to her third husband, Sir Owain Meredith, a knight in Lady Margaret's household. Although he is some years his wife's senior, a happy marriage ensues. Children are born, and they all live together quite contentedly at Friarsgate until an accident takes Owain from his family. Widowed and distraught, Rosamund accepts the invitation of her old friend Queen Katherine to come to court. Henry VIII is now king and has married his brother's widow.

But upon seeing Rosamund again, Henry is unable to help himself. He seduces her. An affair takes place during the queen's pregnancy. Rosamund falls in love with Henry but, realizing that the affair can go nowhere, decides to leave court. When the queen miscarries a son, Rosamund blames herself because she believes the queen may have learned of Rosamund's betrayal.

Returning home to Friarsgate, Rosamund finds the Scots raiding and stealing her flocks. Furious, she takes up arms and successfully beats them back, attracting in the process the Lord of Clayen's Carn. And that's all I'm going to tell you! Please look for Rosamund in 2002.

G.o.d bless, and much good reading from your most faithful author, ************************************

Bertrice Small has written twenty-eight novels of historical romance and two erotic novellas. She is a New York Times bestselling author and the recipient of numerous awards. In keeping with her profession, Bertrice lives in the oldest English-speaking town in the state of New York, founded in I640. Her light-filled studio includes the paintings of her favorite cover artist, Elaine Duillo, and a large library-but no computer as she works on an IBM Quietwriter 7. Her longtime a.s.sistant, Judy Walker, types the final draft. Because she believes in happy endings, Bertrice has been married to the same man, her hero, George, for thirty-eight years. They have a son, Thomas, a daughter-in-law, Megan, and two adorable grandchildren, Chandler David and Cora Alexandra. Longtime readers will be happy to know that Nicki the c.o.c.katiel flourishes along with his fellow housemates, Pookie, the long-haired greige and white, Honeybun, the pet.i.te orange lady cat with cream-colored paws, and Finnegan, the black long-haired baby of the family, who is almost two.

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