“I believe Margaret and Mhairi might be glad to assist Leila in her bath.”Fergus held her a little more tightly.“If that is acceptable, Leila?You will need someone to tend to your injuries.”She nodded agreement, but still said naught.He sensed that she did not particularly care, which worried him deeply.He made for the stairs, then recalled another detail.
“Ensure that Gavin is sent here from Dunnisbrae,” he said to his father, feeling Leila stiffen slightly.He reasoned that she was in pain and hastened to the solar.“Perhaps the healer from Dumfries might be persuaded to come to Killairic sooner rather than later,” he called and barely heard his father’s agreement.
Leila sankinto the hot water of the bath, glad to be rid of Stewart’s blood and the mire of this day.Her ankle hurt.Her cheek was cut.Her face was bruised and her eye was swollen shut.
But she did not bleed.
At least, not yet.
Margaret and Mhairi spoke quietly to each other, and their presence was unexpectedly soothing.There was kindness in their voices and their eyes, and they were gentle as they helped her from the bath and eventually into bed.It was just time for the evening meal, and Leila could hear activity in the hall below.She wanted only to sleep, to forget, to heal, and maybe to dream.
She did not hear the two women leave, and she did not hear Fergus come into the solar much later.She did not hear his sigh or feel the kiss he placed upon her cheek, the one that was not bruised.She did not feel his weight as he sat on the side of the bed, nor the weight of his gaze as he watched her all the night long.
She did not even know he had been there, for when she awakened, Leila was alone.
Just as she feared she would always be.
Fergus had not even come for the next increment of Scheherazade’s story.
And he had summoned Gavin to live at Killairic.
The combination was disheartening.She had tried to win his heart and she had failed.Though he said Gavin was not his son and that he did not love Isobel, his actions spoke louder than his words.Like Duncan, his heart was lost and would be so for more than what remained of their year and a day.
Leila stared at the ceiling, choosing her course.
She would stay, until she knew Radegunde’s fate, until her friend stopped at Killairic.She anticipated that would be before September.If Leila carried Fergus’ child, she would bear him the babe.If she did not, or if she lost the child now, she would no longer welcome him abed.Inshallah.If there was no child now, she would not strive to make one.
She would continue to act as his wife and complete her scheme with the pigeons, but there would be no more tales.
No more intimacy.
When Radegunde arrived, Leila would accept Duncan’s offer of a home.The choice was made, but the timing relied solely upon the presence of a child in her womb.
Either way, Killairic would not be her home.
Leila rolled over and buried her face in the linens, allowing herself to cry as she never had before.She had tried but she had failed, and she knew better than to give more when there was no hope of success.
“She has been injured,” Calum said in the hall below, but Fergus shook his head.
“It is more than that.I sense it.”
His father shook his head.“She has been beaten,” he reminded Fergus.“And doubtless was frightened.Let her sleep and all will be better in the morn.”
Fergus shook his head and drummed his fingers on the board.“I do not think so.”
“You could be wrong, boy.”
“It is not like Leila,” Fergus insisted.“She does not sulk and she does not weep.She shares her thoughts and is honest above all.”He shrugged.“I feel that she has hidden herself from me, that there is an obstacle between us.”
He did not tell his father that even though his nightmare of Isobel had very nearly come true, his sense of impending doom had not lifted.It was unsettling and he tired of it.He wanted all to be resolved and happily.He wanted Leila to decide to stay, whether she chose to be baptized or not.He wanted to hear more of her stories.He wanted to make love to her.
Most of all, he wanted her to open her eyes and look fully into his own.
But he sensed that she did not desire his company on this night and feared that unhappy situation might last.
“Then there is some detail she does not wish to share,” his father said easily.
“Something changed on this day,” Fergus said, shaking his head.“Stewart said something to her, or Agnes did, something that changed her thinking.”He sighed.“I hope the healer comes with all haste.The bruises upon her face must hurt.”
