Page 94 of The Splendor of Fire
Lightning passed a rough blanket to him. “Well done, Birdy. We couldnae have done it without you.”
She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Léo’s middle and mouthed,Thank you, Lightning.
The bìrlinn rocked over the sea, cutting past Treshnish, as he tucked the blanket tight around her. After a few minutes her breath became shallow, and she slept.
Beithir crept back over the benches and knelt beside him, speaking in French. “Be careful with her, my friend. I fear she loves you very much. This is no girlish infatuation.”
Lion tightened his arms around her. “I fear I love her more. I haven’t felt this way since Théa. But she doesn’t want me, Hec. I’ve hurt her too many times.”
Beithir shook his head. “When I fell in love with Cara, I made so many mistakes. You remember how I hurt her the night we confronted Tavish?”
He nodded. “Oui.”
Beithir’s eyes softened. “When we think all is lost, God is working in the darkness. You deserve every happiness, my friend. And I do hope it is with Birdy because she loves you selflessly.” He paused.
“But?”
“But you need to get through the next few weeks.”
A soft yellow curl blew across her cheek and Lion tucked it behind her ear. “Part of me wants to take her to France and go in peace. With Birdy and Gabriel, I need nothing else.”
“She’s worked too hard for you to give up now. She’d never allow it. God has something great for you. Trust him.”
Clearly, for the first time in weeks, he heard the voice within his heart.I’m here, Léo. I’m still here.
Chapter 27
DUN RINGILL CASTLE - SEPTEMBER 13, 1385
Having gotten a proper night’s sleep for the first time in months, Moira woke in her bed feeling renewed. Her lightness of heart and mind didn’t match the gray gloom revealed by the partially opened shutter. She lifted her eyelid and focused her vision. She’d closed it the night before, a chill beginning to ride on the September air.
Shifting in Elspeth’s massive and too-soft bed, she turned on her back and stretched her arm out. Her hand brushed a small bouquet of Michaelmas daisies resting within the Psalter on the pillow beside her.
Careful not to disturb the line of stitches on her calf, she turned over and touched the bright petals, their soft purple blooms reaching out to ward off the darkness. There was a note beside them.
J’ai trouvé celle que mon cœur aime. Tonight, Dunvegan. Meet me at the tunnel after compline. - Léonid
Even his handwriting was beautiful. She touched the words written on the fragment of paper trying to imagine his voice saying them, then picked out things she understood. After reading it a dozen times she could only understand ‘j’ai’ meaning I, and ‘mon’, meaning my. Her heart leapt. They would see each other tonight after spending yesterday avoiding one another, Léo returning to the fields, she staying in herroom continuing the illusion she was sick with the same illness Gordon had.
Something had shifted between them on Iain’s bìrlinn, something powerful and deep that couldn’t be broken. She touched the bottom of the page. He’d written his proper name, and she longed to write her own message to him and sign itAileen.
The chains around her heart pulled taut and she knew she must tell him, because who she was mattered, and she wanted Léo alone to be the first to know who she was in the shelter of her heart.
Hopping across the room, she pulled a piece of sketching paper from her book and tore a square off. Using her charcoal, she wrote the words she couldn’t say.
Léonid - I love you with all my heart. I trust that you’ll never let me fall. I’m yours forever and ever. My name is not Moira.
Her charcoal hovered over the paper, longing to write her name. Guilt swamped her heart. Father. She colored over the last sentence.
—Birdy.
A knock sounded at the door and she picked up the bouquet and Psalter, tucking the note between its pages and sticking it under her pillow. Her calf pulled against the stitches and she stumbled against the burn, hobbling to the door and knocked once in response.
“It’s Isobel, dearie.”
The new door opened as she lifted the bar.
Isobel’s face was tight with agitation. “They’re back.” The two words plummeted her toward the ground.
