“Aye, so.” Dismay swamped Leith. He could not possibly tell his cousin, after such a sacrifice, that he had not wanted to return to MacLeod. Just as he could not share that MacBeith’s daughter carried his child.
Rhian.Upon the thought of her, his head buzzed. It was as if he carried part of her inside him, even as she carried that part of him. Almost as if he could hear her voice.
“Ye ha’ no answered me. Will ye be able to fight again?”
“I do no’ ken.” Leith flexed and opened the fingers of his right hand. “For a long while, I did no’ think so. For a goodly time, I did no’ think I would live. She clawed me back from the edge o’ death.”
“She?” Rory’s green gaze sharpened.
“MacBeith’s middle daughter. She’s a healer.”
“By God, how many wretched daughters did the man beget?”
“Three. There are three.”
Rory gave him a look rife with suspicion. “If she saved ye, this woman, I hope ye do no’ bear any soft feelings toward her.”
“I am that grateful to her, aye.”
Rory moved suddenly, approached the place where Leith sat, and pulled up a stool opposite him. “Leith, let us get one thing straight. There is no place in this for either gratitude or pity.”
Or love?
“They ha’ had a run o’ luck, these accursed MacBeiths, and no mistake, the battles ha’ gone their way. But the tide is turning now. That big man o’ theirs, the war chief, was bad injured in that last battle.”
“Ye suppose so?”
“I inflicted the wound mysel’. If he is taken out o’ the picture, wi’ what can they fight? I ha’ ye back again, and day by day I regain my strength. I tell ye, cousin, the tide has turned.”
“Mayhap.” Leith held his gaze. “Mayhap no.”
“Aye, so. We ha’ the superior numbers, as always. Wi’ their war chief down and wi’ ye back at my side, we ha’ only to tak’ out their female chief. Wha’ did ye say was her name?”
“Moira. Moira MacBeith.”
“Aye. Farlan’s lover.”
That struck Leith silent. Rory followed a plan he’d harbored since boyhood. Had he also hatched a scheme for revenge against Farlan? He was a man who could pursue the two objectives at one time.
Rory might not want to admit he desired revenge. But Farlan had hurt him. What better than to hurt him in return? And what better way to hurt him than to take from him the woman he loved?
Woodenly, Leith said, “Ye want to kill Moira MacBeith?”
“Their chief, aye. It should no’ prove difficult, wi’out her big defender at her side. And she but a woman.”
“She fights well.” Leith swallowed hard. “And wi’ Farlan at her side.”
Rory’s gaze met Leith’s. It glinted like steel. “Farlan and I trained together all our lives. I ken his every habit on the field. Every move.”
“And he yours.” The two of them had faced each other untold numbers of times while sparring. Never in deadly combat.
“Still…” Rory tossed his dark head. “I think I can tak’ him.”
“Rory, he is your best friend.”
“Wasmy best friend.” A bitter look flashed across Rory’s face. “He made his choice. He chose her.”
“He loves her. A man canna choose where he gifts his heart.”
