She made to step past him, her heart thumping, but Fergus laid a hand upon her arm.“Is it bad news?”
Leila shook her head.“My uncle apologizes and invites me home.”
She felt Fergus stiffen.“Home,” he echoed and Leila nodded.
She had no words and it appeared Fergus had none either.She eased from beneath the weight of his hand, and swallowed the lump in her throat.She would not make this difficult for him.He had been kind.“I would speak to Karayan and learn what has changed,” she said, and continued to the hall.
Fergus did not pursue her, though she felt his gaze upon her.
Well aware that Fergus’ father was watching her progress, she went to sit beside Karayan.
He smiled at her, his gaze searching.“The news is good?”
“You did not read it?”
“It was forbidden for me to do so.I gave my pledge.”
Leila placed her hand over his and smiled.“You are a good man, Karayan.Thank you for undertaking this journey.It must have been long and difficult.”
He shrugged.“You are here yourself, so you know how long it is.”Again, he surveyed her and she knew he would ask her a question.
“It is almost a year since I left Jerusalem,” Leila said, speaking before Karayan could.“Tell me what has happened there.”
He exhaled and sat back, drumming his fingers on the board as he thought.“So much,” he murmured.“I am not certain where to begin.”
“Jerusalem was besieged,” Leila suggested and that proved to be all the encouragement Karayan needed.
Fergus did not knowwhat to do.
He did not want to interfere, but he itched to know what message had been brought to Leila from Outremer.He was fiercely jealous that she sat with Karayan and spoke with him, that they were apparently oblivious to everyone else in the hall.Her laughter and the quick sound of her Arabic made him realize how much she had left behind, how much she had surrendered in handfasting to him.
Too much?Fergus suspected it might be so.
He sat with his father, but did not hear his father’s words.He ate, but did not taste his meal.He consulted with those who came to seek his advice—about the harvest, about the pasturage, about the courts, about the next day’s meal—but could not have told anyone what matters had been discussed by the time they were all gone.He sipped his ale, but did not taste it, and watched Leila with a hunger he had not realized he possessed.
“Tell her,” his father advised softly, when Leila took her leave of the messenger.She stood and the messenger dropped to one knee, and Fergus loved how delicate and beautiful she was.“He leaves in the morning,” Calum continued.“Should you not ensure that you have made every possible argument in your own favor?”
“I would have her make the choice that will guarantee her own happiness.”
Calum lifted a brow.“I think what you have not yet told her might affect the outcome.”
“How do you know what I have not yet told her?”
His father smiled.“She hesitates, though I would wager that she is by nature decisive.This indicates that she hopes rather than knows, and there is only one detail that might change all if she knew.”He nodded.“I wonder if she is with child.”
Fergus knew his surprise showed.
“It changes much,” Calum said sagely.“Your mother was more inclined to weep when she was with child than was otherwise her nature.Perhaps Leila is more inclined to doubt than is her usual manner.”
“Doubt?But what can she doubt?”
“What she does not know, of course.The future.”Calum gave Fergus a fierce look.“Tell her, while you can.”
“And if you are wrong?”
“She will leave anyway, and you will never see her again.If I am wrong, you will have risked very little in the end.”He nodded.“If I am right and you do not take my advice, you will have lost all when you could have claimed it.”
Fergus rose at that warning and strode to Leila’s side, touching her elbow with his fingertips.She looked up at him, her dark eyes full of questions, and he smiled despite the turmoil inside himself.“I know you make a choice,” he said, his voice husky.“And I would not impede that.”He swallowed.“But there is one detail I would tell you before you choose.”
