He was earthbound without her. Sworn to this land, to this granite, to his intentions.
She got into the boat. Leith rowed away.
He could not bear it.
Mayhap he should have told her early this morning in his chamber before they parted. Told her that he loved her. But nay, love did not adequately describe what he felt for her. No words could describe.
He lost sight of them as they crossed the water. Coming to himself, he realized he stood alone. Mistress Rhian had gone.
Savage emotions arose and gripped him. He wanted to destroy something. Rend someone limb from limb. Assuage this grief in violence.
But it could not be assuaged, this hurt. It had no limits. He had done the right thing, aye. But by God, he would pay a price.
He marched back into the forecourt, no longer letting himself gaze away across the glen. She was gone. Her soft lips, her fragile fingers, the great and splendid wealth of her. Worse, the magical refuge that was her heart.
He would never again know joy. Aye, but a man could carry on without joy. He had done so before. He could see to his duties, mind his defenses, plan for conquest. For he could not let something so weak as feelings for a woman interfere in the achievement of his lifelong plan.
Ah, but what he felt for Saerla MacBeith was not weak. It was by far the strongest thing he’d ever known.
Strong enough to make him let her go.
On his way through the forecourt, he bellowed to his men, “To training! Wha’ be ye waiting about here for? We ha’ battles to fight!”
He would lose himself in drilling, in the sweat and the pain of it. And perhaps, for a few short moments, he could dismiss Saerla MacBeith from his mind.
Chapter Fifty-One
“She will no’eat. She’s taken precious little to drink, and I do no’ think she’s slept at all. She has no’ even been up on the rise since she returned home. Farlan, I do no’ ken wha’ to do.”
Did Moira not realize that Saerla could hear her speaking to Farlan, there outside the door of her chamber? Did she think Saerla deaf? Aye, but the worry in her voice went straight to Saerla’s heart. Not enough, though, to rouse her from the depths of her sorrow.
“Nay,” Farlan murmured unhappily in reply. Seeing Moira upset worried him. Besides, Saerla believed Farlan too cared about her welfare. He was, at the heart, that kind of man.
Saerla had to admit, Moira had chosen well in her mate. Though she’d once had her doubts about the MacLeod prisoner, she saw now the depth of Farlan’s character, steady as the rock beneath the glen they all loved.
As had Rhian chosen well. Saerla liked Leith very much. On the trip across from MacLeod, he had been infinitely gentle with her, almost as if he understood.
Only she, of the three sisters MacBeith, had chosen poorly. The marauder. The monster. He who would steal from them all they cherished.
How could she have given such a man her heart?
Four days had passed since she’d returned to MacBeith. Four interminable days. Four endless nights. Saerla had to admit, the nights were the worst, because she’d become accustomed tospending that time in Rory MacLeod’s arms. Now she could not so much as place her head upon the bolster without thinking of him. Longing for him. So she refused to lie down and instead paced the dark hours away.
“She is no’ our Saerla anymore.” Tears half choked Moira’s voice. “Wha’ did he do to her there, when he held her prisoner?”
What had he done to her? Run his big, calloused hands all over her body. Bestowed kisses like blessings. Brought a sleeping part of her to life.
Moira knew none of that. Saerla had barely spoken with her sister before retiring to her chamber. She’d not told Moira that she’d gifted Rory with her virginity. That she might even now be carrying his child.
No Rhian here, to advise her as to that. Only time would tell, and she grieved over time.
“He did the right thing in the end,” Farlan rumbled, “and sent her home.”
That was Farlan all over—defending his former friend, who had cast him off and deprived him of his birthright for the sin of disagreeing with him. Farlan of the great and generous heart.
All at once, Saerla wanted to weep. She had not yet, save those few tears at the parting. Now she wanted to weep and weep.
Her chamber door opened. “Sister?” Moira stepped in with Farlan like a rock at her back. “I am that concerned for ye. Ha’ ye taken aught to eat this day?”
