“I say it because ’tis the truth. Nay. Do no’ leave me yet.” Once more he caught her hand and wove his fingers through hers. “Iain MacBeith’s daughter, are ye?”
“Aye. His middle daughter.”
“Your sister, the one playin’ at being chief, ’twas she who seduced my friend, Farlan? Aye, he told me all about her when he returned home. Before he left us for good, that was. For her sake.”
“There are three o’ us. Moira, myself, and Saerla.”
“MacBeith’s three daughters. I will confess, though I did sympathize wi’ Farlan when he told me all, I did no’ quite understand it. Aye, love is love. But fealty is fealty, ye ken.”
“Aye.”
“Now, beholding ye, I begin to understand.”
That made her draw away, pull her fingers from his, and get to her feet. “I will prepare that draught.”
“I do no’ want it.”
“Master Leith, ’tis far from proper for us to ha’ any sort o’ relationship beyond that o’ nurse and patient.”
“Surely, though, ’tis already more. Ye saved my life out there on the battlefield. Ye canna deny I would ha’ bled to death had ye no’ aided me.”
“Perhaps.”
“And now ye ha’ restored my sight. Ye be keeping me alive.” His lips worked for an instant before he added, “Ye be keeping me alive in ways I canna understand.”
That made her turn back and stare at him, feeling once more that pull to the gut, the tug to her heart.
Nay. She could not let this—whatever it may be—happen. She’d seen the misery such nonsense brought to Moira.
“I ha’ other patients to tend.”
“Aye, no doubt ye do.” He bowed his head in apparent defeat.
“If I mix the draught, will ye drink it?”
He shook his head.
“But ye will be in pain wi’out it.”
“I will endure.”
She did not like that. It went against her every instinct, as did picking up her basket and leaving him here.
“Are ye warm enough?”
“Aye, Mistress Rhian.”
Sweet heaven, she loved the way he said her name, like music on his lips.
“The guards are just outside the door. Take what rest ye can.”
She went out and walked away past the guards without stopping, even though with every step, the hook in her gut tightened.
She lectured herself firmly as she might one of her sisters. She could not,wouldnot, be so foolish as to succumb to this nonsense. Leith MacLeod was but a man.
Only he was not.
At least his sight had returned, as her instincts had told her it would. A good thing that, for the life of a blinded warrior offered little. Just as she could offer him little. She must concentrate on healing that vicious wound and getting him traded back to MacLeod.
