Page 28 of The Splendor of Fire
The Beithir looked at his wife who rocked the now-sleeping baby, a look of stunned disbelief on her face.
“Aye. He and my wife were both captured. Tavish, Elspeth’s husband, tried to kill Léo but didn’t succeed. Léo always has been as resilient as a cat. Able to come back again and again from the brink of destruction.”
Moira remembered her father’s eerie words about Léo. The Beithir’s brow furrowed as he read her words. “My father thinks he is anointed. He said the clan has always thought so. It’s why his brothers, and sister, and stepmother, hate him. It’s why Father and Mowbray want him to be installed as chief.”
“Does Léo know about this?”
Moira hesitated. Despite her father's orders to lie and say Léo approved of the plan, she couldn't do it, even if it was for the good of their cause. “He will know soon.”
“What do you and your father have to do with all this?”
The concern for Léo evident on the Beithir’s face made her answer honestly. “Father wishes to avenge the death of my mother. Niall MacKinnon ordered her to Dun Ringill to care for his leman who was ill with pox. When Maw could not save her he…”
Tears blurred her eyes. The worst day of her life. The day Father resolved that they would pay, and everything changed. He’d been consumed by grief. Consumed by anger. Consumed with revenge.
“Weighted her legs and sank her in the sea.”
The dark man swore then looked abashed. “Sorry.”
She did not know whether he was apologizing for swearing or her mother’s terrifying death. Maybe both. The man stuck out his hand. “Murdoch MacFadyen.”
She grasped it, and opened her mouth, ready to say Aileen, but stopped. Instead she mouthed,Moira Allen.
The light-haired man came forward and stuck his tattooed hand out. “Calum MacLean.”
Lady MacLean placed an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Cara MacLean.”
The Beithir looked at the paper and then at Moira, eyes still suspicious. “You explained how your father is involved. How are you involved? Why cross an ocean to deliver a message you can’t read? What if it contained information that could get you murdered? Why not send your father? Why fight your way into a keep and past twenty highly trained guard?”
Why indeed? It had taken much convincing to make Father stay behind and come alone. The chains around her heart rattled, and she touched the charcoal to the paper. “I don’t care about the plan to overthrow Niall. If Father came, I knew he’d push you to support their cause and attack now, forgetting Léo’s interests and your safety. All I want is for Gabriel to know his da is alive, and for Léo to be with him. I came to see that word got to Gabriel.”
The Beithir nodded once. Moira tugged on his sleeve and continued to write. “I’m sorry I lied to get in. I’m sorry about running from you, I didnae realize you were Hector. Sorry I jumped on your horse. Sorry I broke into your keep and scared your wife and baby. Sorry I bit you.” She had run out of room on the paper.Please God, don’t punish me.
Emotion spilled over the Beithir’s face, and he picked her up and embraced her, squeezing all the breath from her lungs. “Thank you. Thank you for coming all this way. Thank God for you. You saved his life.”
Chapter 9
MOY CASTLE - JUNE 24, 1384
Moira studied the bottom lip of the sleeping baby as it sucked in and pushed outward, lost in dreams about eating. Her charcoal corrected the mouth she’d drawn, and she added wobble and shadow, bringing life to the mouth on the page. Now she was satisfied. She blew the dust off the page and handed it to Cara.
Cara’s eyes filled with love. “It’s remarkable. His exact likeness.”
Balancing her busted chin in her scraped palm, Moira admired the wee thing curled in Cara’s arms. Red hair curled across his tiny head like his maw, but a long leg like his da shot out from his blanket. Cara chuckled and tucked it back in.
She pointed to the baby and to Cara’s abdomen.
“Two days old.”
Moira winced. What a surprise he’d gotten yesterday.
Cara eased back into the pillows of the giant bed. “It’s all right. We would have endured anything to know Uncle Léo is alive. When you see him please tell him that his nephew, Eamon Léonid MacLean, is doing well and loves and misses him very much.”
If only Lady MacLean could accompany her everywhere. She was more perceptive than Father who had lived with her almost her entirelife, and in only one day she’d begun to master her signs and could intuit her expressions.
The door to the sumptuous chamber opened, and an older woman breezed into the room. “I’m sorry, love, I didnae know you had company.”
“It’s all right, come in. Moira, this is my mother-in-law, Margaret.”
