A great heaviness descended upon Rory. The dark yawned at his feet. But he, aye, knew now what he had to do. “Saerla—” he began, and paused, devoid of words. He’d never been good at expressing his feelings. Easier to act and let the pieces fall as they may. And his feelings for this woman—well, they went beyond expression anyway.
“Listen to me. Tomorrow is the tenth day.”
“Eh?”
“O’ the number I gave to yer sister. I said if she did no’ yield her lands to me I would tak’ yer life on the tenth day.”
Saerla’s eyes widened.
“To be sure, I will no’. I could no’.” Again he struggled for words. “I could sooner place a blade into my own heart as harm a hair o’ ye.”
“Moira does no’ ken that.”
“She does no’. Ye sent her yon letter asking her no’ to spend hersel’ on a rescue. She refused.”
“Aye, she did.”
“Aye,” he agreed softly.
“Wha’ will ye do?”
“I ken fine wha’ I maun do. Come first light tomorrow morning, I will send ye home.”
“Eh?” She struggled to sit up. He kept her where she was with a hand at her breast.
“Saerla, listen to me. ’Twas wrong ever to keep ye here, a prisoner. Nay man can imprison what ye be.” He said what he did not wish to. “I maun mak’ it right and send ye back.”
And what did he see in her beautiful eyes? Surprise, surely. For all her Sight, she had not foreseen this. Did he see sorrow also? Regret? Och, God, let him see at least a hint of regret. Because it would tear him asunder to watch her go from him. No matter that he knew to his very soul it was the right thing to do.
“Rory.” She laid her hand against his cheek and studied him. “Ye would do this for me?”
“I would.”Tell me ye will no’ go. Say it will break your heart to leave me.
But she did not. Even though her eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled, she did not offer to stay with him.
And that was only right. How could he hold such a creature in his scarred and bloodied hands? Miracle enough that he’d had her for a time.
“Wha’ will happen after that?” she asked.
“Eh?”
“Once I am returned home.”
He did not like to think. When he looked beyond this moment while still they lay together, when he peered at the prospect of her leaving him, he saw only the darkness.
She rushed on, “Will ye seek to forge a peace? Ye and Farlan—”
“Nay.”
“But, Rory, ’tis possible—”
“Nay. I maun go on wi’ my plans. I ha’ sworn that to my people. Farlan and I—that breach canna be healed.”
Now he saw sorrow in her eyes, a depth of it that matched his own.
She whispered, “Surely it can. Once, ye were so close wi’ him and Leith. As close as my sisters and me. I ha’ Seen—”
“Once. Long ago.” And would he one day look back on these moments with her in that same way? Aye, for he must wed a good woman of his own clan, beget an heir. Live the life that lay—should lie—before him.
