Page 26 of Leila’s Legacy

“You’re freezing.” Her father cast a hard look over his shoulder to the Lion. “She is a noblewoman and should be treated thus. Your treatment of my daughter is reprehensible.”

“She’s been arrested on the crime of witchcraft.” The Lion’s face revealed no emotion. “She will be tried by Father Gerard, who is coming in from Edinburgh to judge her for her sins. I will personally ensure she remains safe until then.”

“And then what?” Father growled. “You let her die if some self-important man deems her a witch?”

The Lion did not flinch. “Ye’ve seen yer daughter.”

Lord Werrick’s warm hand tightened on Leila’s as though he could keep from letting go. “What can I do to free her?”

“There isna anything ye can do.” The Lion pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against. “She’ll be tried and judged in due time.”

“Nay.” Father shook his head. “I can pay you. Exorbitant sums. I can give you land. A castle upon it, even.” He was pleading, his voice trembling.

It cut through Leila’s composure and heat prickled in her eyes with the threat of tears. “Please, Papa. You cannot stay here. It is too dangerous.”

He turned to her abruptly, his own eyes brimming with tears. “Papa?” He blinked. “You haven’t called me that in so many years, my sweet daughter.”

A sob choked from Leila. “I know…” She tried to force back her tears. “I also know you are not my father.”

He shook his head as though he meant to stop her, but she rushed on. “You are not my father. I know the man who sired me nearly killed my mother and I finished what he started with my birth. You and my sisters have given me a love I have never deserved. I cannot repay that kindness now by putting you at risk. I already killed my mother; I will not now be the cause of your death as well.”

“Leila,” Lord Werrick said sharply. “Nay.” He reached through the bars and touched her cheek tenderly, the way he’d always done when she was a child. “You are one of us: a Barrington. You may not be my daughter by blood, but you are a daughter of my heart.” He frowned hard and his chin trembled in an obvious attempt to hold back his tears. “You are my daughter and I love you.” He gave a sharp sob. “I will always love you and I will never stop fighting for you.” He met her eyes, fierce with determination. “Never,” he vowed.

“It is time.” The Lion appeared beside the cell. “Please, Lord Werrick.”

Father leaned into the bars as though he could go through them to be in the cell with Leila, to protect her the way he always had.

Tears streamed hot down Leila’s face. “I love you too, Papa. I always will.” She kissed the warm hand holding hers with all the reverence of a daughter who truly did love her father. But it was the next act that was more wrought by love than any other, for she stepped back and pulled her hand from the warm comfort of his. To allow him to leave, to get him from this place of death and chaos, so he could return to the safety of Werrick Castle where the contagion could not touch him.

Her father reached for her, but she shook her head. “You must go.”

“Lord Werrick.” The Lion’s tone was soft as he silently indicated the hall.

Father hesitated, staring at Leila as though he would rather cut out his heart than leave.

“Please, Lord Werrick,” the Lion said.

Her father’s face crumpled in pain. “I will not rest until you are free.” With a harsh intake of breath, he turned away from her and strode down the hall.

Leila stepped back toward the iron bars and pressed her face to them as he left. The agony in her chest was exquisite. It tore her heart in every direction like a savage beast wild with blood lust and left her wounded and ragged. “Goodbye, Papa,” she whispered at the departing footsteps.

For she knew deep in her heart, it was the last time she would see her father before her death.