“What you have chosen is more than sufficient.”Leila indicated a length of finely woven deep green wool.“Your father might be glad of a new robe, and this will be warm for him.”
“An excellent suggestion.For that, you win a third kirtle, made of the wool in the hue of roses.”
“Fergus!”
He grinned at her, liking that she was pleased.“And now, the gift.”Fergus chose a length of blended wool and silk in a brilliant blue.He had bought it because it was the exact hue of Isobel’s eyes, and he wanted rid of it.The color would not suit Leila at all and it was too fine to give to anyone else.
There was a psalter rolled within it for the journey, a small volume with delicate images that he had bought for Isobel in Venice.It was a lady’s volume, but Isobel was not ardent in her prayers.Fergus had bought it because it was so beautiful, but was reluctant to give such a treasure to her now.
He would save it, for another woman might one day appreciate it.Perhaps Leila would convert, or he might be so fortunate as to love again in future.
Was that the dark cloud he had discerned?His own future without love?
Fergus refused to think about it.He set the psalter aside, recalling another trinket.There were fine needles of steel in the bottom of one trunk, the like of which he had never seen before glimpsing them in Outremer.He had bought them for Isobel, and some lengths of silk thread which would be welcome for her embroidery.
Again, the tokens had been costly, and Isobel was not diligent with her stitchery either, but Leila would never sit and embroider.She would hunt and hawk and ride with him, all of which were welcome prospects.He had seen her muck out the stalls of the horses and did not doubt she would undertake any labor she deemed practical and necessary.He doubted that embroidery would ever count.Fergus added half of the needles and thread to the blue cloth, thinking the gift was suitable.He put the remainder of the needles and thread aside for Margaret.
“Let us give these to Margaret,” he suggested.“They will make you an ally, to be sure, and she will have good use of them.”
“That is a fine idea.”
Content with his choices for Isobel, Fergus took one of the small trunks and packed them into it.
Leila granted him a challenging glance but said nothing.
Fergus understood that she had something to say but feared to speak her thoughts.He would teach her to do as much, and he would do that without delay.
Honesty, after all, was the foundation of every good match.He would have that, even if he could not have Isobel.
