“Nay. But listen. Wi’ Farlan there close to their chief and me here beside ye—Well, we spoke o’ it when I was there. Farlan and I did. Of forging a treaty for the good o’ all.”
“Ye. And Farlan.” Rory’s lip curled. “All cozy there, were ye?”
“He remains my good friend.”
“He remains atraitor. There maun be some poison that resides in that accursed place. I would say ’twas dark magic, did I no’ spit upon such fancies.”
“Rory.” Leith reached out and touched his cousin’s arm. “There be a woman there, at MacBeith. The healer of whom I told ye.”She carries my child. But he would not add that. He could not, given what now blazed in Rory’s eyes.
Rory scraped back his bench and got to his feet. “A woman! Another o’ the old chief’s daughters, ye said. Aye, and will ye turn traitor to be wi’ her also, as Farlan has done? All for the sake o’ awoman?”
“Rory, I love her. I want—need—to be wi’ her. If that requires achieving a peace—”
Leith thought his cousin would choke on his anger.
Low and angry, Rory said, “I canna cast ye off as I did Farlan. Ye be my blood. But ye will forget this woman, aye? Ye will drop these childish fancies, and ye will march out to face Clan MacBeith at my side.”
A dark tide of despair rose to engulf Leith. “And if I will no’?”
“Then ye’ll be prisoner here, cousin, even as ye were at MacBeith, because I will not—will not—stand by and watch the one nearest me to turn his back on me again.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Moira, I needa word wi’ ye. Please.”
Rhian had not slept all the night. Instead, she’d lain with her arms wrapped around her belly, cradling the precious life that lay within and pondering what Saerla had said to her up on the rise.
She’d arisen early and come to Moira’s door. So early that now, when Moira opened it, Rhian could once more see Farlan still abed, his chest bare and his brown hair in a tangle.
Indeed, Moira wore no more than a chemise, rucked around her thighs and no doubt hastily donned.
Moira blinked at her. “Sister, can it no’ wait?”
“Nay, I fear it canna.”
Moira opened the door wider and motioned Rhian in. Farlan began to scramble up from the bed. Rhian wondered wildly if he were naked beneath the blankets.
“I will go,” he said.
“Nay, Farlan, pray do no’. This concerns ye also. At least, it concerns your friend, Leith.”
Farlan, looking startled, settled back against the bolsters.
Moira peered at Rhian. “Sister, ye do no’ look well. What is it?”
Rhian closed the chamber door behind her and leaned against it. “I am carrying Leith MacLeod’s child.”
“What?”
Rhian watched as all the color drained from Moira’s face.
“But how—how?”
“My love,” Farlan whispered, “I believe there is only one way.” He looked at Rhian kindly. “Leith?”
“I love him.” She pronounced it in a gasp. “As I ne’er thought to love any man.”
“Christ Jesus!” Moira backed to a bench and collapsed upon it.
