Now Saerla’s strength had grown, as had her ability. She’d set up certain barriers that kept Rhian from simply pulling her into an embrace.
In days past, Saerla would have blurted out all she’d Seen, no matter how terrible, if only to unburden herself. Now she kept quiet.
To protect them.
That knowledge sent uneasiness crawling up Rhian’s spine, as did Saerla’s expression when she leaned close and said, “Take care, sister. And if ye do love him, ha’ the strength to send him awa’ from ye, when ye get that chance.”
Chapter Forty-One
The gloaming hadonce more come down before Leith heard a soft knock at the door of the chamber. By then he had nearly become convinced Rhian intended not to return to him, that she would sleep elsewhere. In the infirmary, perhaps. Or with her sister.
Half mad with desperation, with the need to see her and touch her, he’d doubted he could endure for a whole night. As soon as he heard the rap on the door, though, he knew it was her just as if he could see through the oak and glimpse her standing there.
Clumsy in his haste, and using but his one hand, he lifted the bar. She slipped in, and all came right with his world. Just like that, it did.
He’d imagined all day long what she might say to him if she did arrive. Explanations, mayhap, of why she’d stayed so long away. A speech describing all the reasons it was mad for them to be together, for he had himself thought of them all.
Instead she merely stepped up close and wrapped her arms around him.
He had but the one sound arm, aye, but he folded that around the sweet, fragrant warmth of her and drew her in tighter. The relief of having her there staggered him and made him begin to tremble.
“Rhian,” he breathed into her hair. “My beautiful lady, merciful angel.”
He’d been missing her, aye, aching for her all the day long, but he did not realize how much until this moment, when the agony eased. Och, sweet agony.
They stood so while the minutes flew by, and his heartbeat calmed. Then he asked, still speaking into her hair, “Will ye stay wi’ me the night?” If she did, then he could survive.
She did not reply. Instead, to his dismay, she drew away from him and stepped to the door. But ah, it was only to place the bar across it before looking at him.
“I should no’ be here.”
“I ken.”
“I should no’ stay. I would do better to share Saerla’s chamber this night.”
“And will ye?”
Still she did not answer him directly. “I ha’ always been a prudent woman. Able to weigh my decisions. Act according to wha’ is right.”
“Will ye say ’tis no’ right, ye being here wi’ me?”
She shook her head. “I canna say that.”
Again she stepped up to him, raised both hands, and twined them around his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and her gaze, deep blue as a midnight sky, engaged his.
He lost all his breath, even before she kissed him, and when she pressed her mouth to his, giving and taking in equal measures, he did not know if he’d ever breathe again.
He did not care.
Nothing existed but Rhian. The taste of her, the warmth. The sense of completion that overshadowed all.
She’d thought herself a prudent woman, as he’d thought himself a contented man, neither of them suspecting what they’d been wanting.
Rhian, my beautiful angel,he thought at her, since his mouth was otherwise occupied.
Leith, my love.
Her love. Of all the things he’d ever wanted to be—accomplished with a sword, accomplished with his charm, light of heart—he’d never wanted to be anything more than hers.
