Page 43 of Leila’s Legacy

She’d known Niall before she met him, of that he was certain. But how? And in what sense?

Of one thing he was certain: there was more to Leila than he allowed himself to see and he needed to stop being blind. A knock came from the door.

“Lord Armstrong requests to see ye, Niall,” Brodie said from the other side.

Niall released his hold on Leila. “Forgive me.”

She said nothing, and instead turned to the bed, which she lay upon with her back set to the door. Niall exited the room quietly, giving her the solitude that she needed as she nursed her hurt.

He strode into the great hall where Lord Armstrong waited for him. Niall’s steps were nearly silent on the thick layer of rushes beneath his feet.

Lord Armstrong seldom looked pleased as of late. This time, however, the frown on his face was not one of anger, but of sorrow. “My daughter is ill,” he said by way of greeting.

Lady Davina was a young woman of eighteen, a frail thing whose countenance had never been strong. It did not surprise Niall that she would fall ill. If anything, he was surprised it had taken so long to strike the poor girl.

She was a kind and gentle soul; everything her father and brother were not, as if all the evil had been spent on them and there was nothing but goodness to give Davina.

“I’m verra sorry to hear such news,” he replied with heartfelt sincerity.

“There are no’ any physicians or healers here to see to her,” Lord Armstrong said. “All have died or fled. There isna anyone to tend to her, save the few servants who will go near her and they dinna have the learning needed to heal her.”

“Mayhap it isna the great mortality, my lord. One of my men—”

“She bears the mark of the pestilence.” Lord Armstrong looked down into his lap briefly and did not speak so long, Niall was left to wonder if he was gathering his strength to continue on.

Lady Davina had a way of warming even the hardest of hearts, including that of her own father. It was no secret Lord Armstrong cared for his daughter greatly. It was rumored he continued to put off her marriage to her betrothed for fear of never seeing her again.

It was a valid concern since Lady Davina was displeased with her life in Liddesdale.

“The prisoner is a healer, aye?” Lord Armstrong asked. “The witch.”

Niall raised his brows. “Ye would have her tend to Lady Davina, even as ye suspect her of having caused her to fall ill?”

The Keeper of Liddesdale put his fingers to his lips as though in consideration of Niall’s logic. “Lady Davina is a pure soul. I hope the witch can see that and help her live.” He heaved a soul-deep sigh. “There isna anyone else to aid her and I canna lose my daughter.”

“And ye wish me to speak to Lady Leila on yer behalf,” Niall surmised.

“She’s yer responsibility. And that includes convincing her to aid Davina.”

Niall would have to ask Leila to help Alban’s sister, even as Leila’s own father lay in England with the same ailment and she was unable to care for him. The twisted fate was cruel.

Still, Niall nodded. “I’ll speak with her.”

Lord Armstrong waved him away with a limp hand and lowered his face into his palm as Niall departed.

Leila was still on her bed when Niall entered her room. “Thank you for coming back,” she said without turning to look at him.

“How did ye know it was me?” he asked.

“You are always quiet when you open the door, as if you don’t wish to disturb me.” She sat up and regarded him with red-rimmed eyes.

“I…” He rubbed at the tension along the back of his neck. How in God’s teeth was he going to ask this of her?

She got to her feet. “What is it?”

“Lord Armstrong’s daughter is ill.” Niall slid his gaze away and noted the tray with her food set atop of the trunk, the food untouched. “There’s no’ anyone left to properly treat the lass.”

“I will,” Leila offered. “If he’ll allow it.”