Page 82 of The Splendor of Fire
“I’m not?” His eyes moved from her frozen fingers to her teary eyes, confusion drenching his features.
How could she betray her father? Betray the name he’d given her? What right did she have to deny him after all he’d done to love and provide for her?
She gave a defeated sigh and sat down on the ground, tucking her head against her knees and succumbing to the emotion that she struggled to keep at bay for a year. Sobs overtook her and she felt herself being pulled into the safety of his chest.
“I’m sorry, Moira, I’m sorry.”
Hot tears rolled down her cheeks.I’m not Moira.Unable to bring herself to sign the words she shook her head and looked up into his eyes and signed through shuddering sobs.It. Isn’t. You.
He gently brushed her tears away. “What is it?”
Everything. Being here. Being someone I’m not, all the time.
The lines above his right eyebrow deepened. “I didn’t know it weighed on you so heavily. You’re doing so well, you’ve done so much to save our cause. To help me.”
The tears wouldn’t slow, no matter how hard she tried to stamp them out. Longing for Father’s guidance seized her so hard she lost her breath against the grief.
Strong arms tightened around her and his hand smoothed her hair away from her muddy, wet face, then held her to him. For long minutes she cried. Cried for her father, for her mother, and for the family she knew could be out there, somewhere, going on without her, but whom she was helpless to reach. Would she never know family and belonging again?
The tone of his voice was rich and deep as he whispered against her ear. “Mon amour, please… you are breaking my heart. Let me take you toDunvegan. Come with me. You’re more valuable to me than becoming chief.”
She wrapped her arms tight around his neck, unable to stifle her grief or love for him. She shook her head no.
“Yes. You’ve done so much. Enough. Let me take care of you.”
Heart cramping, she released his neck and brushed the tears away from her eyes.I don’t need you to take care of me.
Hisarms fell away from her. “Your father didn’t agree.”
Disbelief that his tone had turned hard so quickly and shock at his words shot through her.What do you mean?
His expression looked conflicted. “Nothing.”
Father had discussed her with him? And he would dare withhold that from her?My father discussed my safety with you? When?
He blew out a breath. “The night he died.”
Sadness and grief stung, but her dominant emotion was fire-breathing anger.Why didn’t you tell me, Léo?
Guilt swamped his features and he swallowed. “You’re right, I should have told you. But I didn’t know how to tell you, I wasn’t certain if you knew…”
Knew what? What did he say?
Glass shone in his brown eyes and he blinked. “He told me to take care of you. To watch over you. To fight for you.”
So great was the pain within her heart that she clutched her chest, fearing it would burst open.
“He said he loved you like you were his own…” He stopped, his eyes searching, cheeks twitching. “You were his own heart.”
A sob of incredulity escaped from her mouth and pierced the night with a coarse rasp.
“His last thoughts and words were only of you, Moira, he loved you so much. He knew I could keep you safe. He wanted me to help you.”
Anger at the whole miserable MacKinnon family coursed through her and she shoved him away.I don’t want your help! For weeks you’ve had opportunities to tell me and you didn’t. These were my father’s words to me, he trusted you to give them to me. What else did he tell you?
A look of unmistakable guilt lived in his eyes, and her blood boiled.What? What else did he tell you?
He couldn’t look at her. He was unwilling to tell her everything her father had told him. She got off his lap and he got to his feet following her. “Moira…Moira…please, calm down.”
