Leila tried to read the missive slowly, wanting to savor this unexpected gift, but her gaze danced over the message.When she was relieved that it brought no bad news, she read it again.
My dear Leila, beloved flower and blessing of our house—
This missive carries both an apology and an entreaty, and I hope it finds you well.In fact, I am greedy with my wishes.I would not only have my message delivered into your hands, but I would have you sufficiently well to read it.I would have your heart still open to my words despite our disagreement.I would have Karayan find you promptly, and also return to me with a message from you—if not with you yourself by his side.I wish for much, more than perhaps is my due, but I cannot stop the wishing all the same.
I fear for your fate and for my own part in driving you from the safety of my home.I cannot blame you for making your choice, given my refusal to consider your view of Ahmed.I can only hope that the price you have been compelled to pay for fleeing with the Franj has not been too high.I know much of these men, more than I would wish to know, though truly, few men will show themselves to be honorable when a young beauty begs for their aid.I fear that you may have paid for your escape in the oldest of ways.
And so I write to you, not only to apologize, but to remind you that you are as my own daughter.You are welcome in my home now, as ever you were, and you are welcome regardless of what you have done or what has been done to you.You think, perhaps, that I will be shamed if you were to return unmarried and with a child fathered by a Franj.You might not believe any protest I might make in my own defense, so I will tell you this, a story that proves the intention of my heart.
Many years ago, your mother came to me when she knew she carried a child fathered by a Franj.He was a warrior, defending the claim of the Franj to our village, al-Ramm.He took far more than was his right, though I did not know of his wickedness in time.Indeed, I thought him to be a man of honor.It was the blue of his eyes, so steadfast, that tricked me into trusting when I should not have done.This man abandoned your mother after taking her innocence and planting his seed.She argued always to his merit, but he seized what he should not have touched and he left no provision for my sister or her child.
For you.
That is not the choice of the man of honor I had believed him to be.
I welcomed my sister into my home and I refused to see her as shamed.She bore you and died in the delivery of you, leaving you alone in the world.I believe her heart was broken, for she faded during her pregnancy when she should have blossomed.After her death, we contrived a story that her husband had been killed in battle and that she had been a widow.This was the true reason why we left al-Ramm and came to Jerusalem, so that few would question the tale.It was true that there were raids and that the village was less safe than once it had been, but we began again to give you a life.I saw you raised in my house as if you were my own child, and the secret was kept between your aunt and me.We were determined to make right from wrong and to give you the upbringing you deserved.I bought a new shop, I found new clients and established my name again, and we made a new life in Jerusalem.It was not easily done but I do not regret it.
Now your aunt is gone, her wisdom lost to me, and I am the sole keeper of the secret.I owe it to you, Leila, to tell you the truth of your parentage before there is no one left who knows it.You are half-Franj, and though I know the name of your father, I swore before your birth that it would never cross my lips again.I hope he is dead, denied by his own family, in justice for what he did to the mother of his own child.I pray he did not know of you, for then his heart would be darker and he would still be your father.
Then you fled, and I feared that my scheme to keep the past secret had led you into peril.You could only have escaped with the Franj, and I hope that my error has not put you in peril.I hope you have not paid too high a price.
And so I send Karayan in pursuit of you, though I would have preferred to go myself.As a Rum, if not a Franj, he is more likely to pass without notice than I ever could.I pray daily that he finds you, and thank Allah that a man of such valor and dedication serves our family.
If your mother’s fate has been your own, please do not fear my wrath.You are my sister’s daughter, the blood of my heart, as dear to me as if you were my own child.I would hear your laughter again.I would see your smile.I would know you to be safe and well.Aziza believes that you can do any deed and perhaps her faith is justified.I know too much of men, though, little flower, and I am afraid that you are alone, impoverished, and with child.I fear a repetition of the past.
Let me help you.
Let me offer her a haven.
Please send word with Karayan that you forgive me for believing in the match I arranged.Please send word that you are well—or better yet, return home under Karayan’s protection.You know he can be relied upon.Aziza misses you.We all miss you, but mostly, we want you to be well and happy.Please let me know that you are so.
Leila blinked backher tears and clutched the missive.She stared unseeingly at the garden she had come to love so well.The bees were working in the flowers and the pigeons cooed over their nests.The hills rolled before her to the firth, which shone in the late afternoon light.The sky was streaked with gold and red as the sun dipped low, and some clouds were gathering overhead.The first raindrops began to fall, making the air look as if it was filled with silver.Leila did not move, merely tucked the missive into her sleeve to protect it.She loved it at Killairic, and if Fergus had been inclined to surrender his heart to her, she might have happily stayed.
As it was, her uncle’s offer was not without appeal.Leila could go back to everything she knew and everyone she loved.She could play with Aziza’s baby and maybe find a husband to give her children of her own.It was tempting to slip back into the life she had known—although Leila knew that she had changed and that there might always be a yearning in her heart for what she left behind.
Or whom.
Her father had been Franj.She wished she knew more about him, then wished his nature had not been as her uncle described.She supposed she had been of two places even before she left Jerusalem.
Half Franj.
Half Christian.
Was that why this land appealed to her so powerfully?Was that why she had had a sense from the outset that she could make a home here, with the right impetus?
But she did not have that impetus.Fergus had said he did not love Isobel, yet Isobel’s son was at home in this hall.Would Gavin be named heir of Killairic because his lineage was pure?
Still she was torn.She had not bled but it was too soon to know if she would miss her courses a second time.
If she carried a child, would it be born hale after Stewart’s blow?
Is she carried a child, would life be better for her child in Jerusalem than here?
Was it important that Fergus had decided they would not travel to Iona together, when they had resolved she would be baptized there?
Leila did not know and she hated this new indecisiveness in herself.She read the missive again, shielding it from the rain, then rolled it carefully and tucked it into her sleeve again.Her heart in her throat, she stood and turned to return to the hall.She would find out what was happening in Palestine from Karayan.It would not make a difference to her choice, but the gathering of information could only be sensible.
Leila realized that Fergus was watching her from the doorway to the kitchens.She lowered her own gaze, feeling as if she had been caught, and felt herself flush.How long had he watched her?Her innards clenched and she wondered what he was thinking.
