Page 55 of The Splendor of Fire
Despite the intensity in his eyes, Léo’s voice remained calm. “I see you have adjusted well to life at Dun Ringill.”
She hadn’t. A powerful longing for her father, her mother, for the comfortable cottage by the sea, for the feel of Léo’s embrace affected her as it hadn’t for months. But of course, she was unable to respond except to give a slight nod, and a longing look into Niall’s fecal-colored eyes.
Niall lifted her hand and put his vile lips where Léo’s had been. “I’ve at long last found a leman who can please me. In every way.”
Her eyes closed.It’s a lie, Léo. He’s never…
“I can see she does. Some women are suited to that life, I suppose.”
Léo’s words ran through her like Niall’s sword had run through her father. She clutched her stomach with her left hand.
Niall touched her cheek. “Claret, please, Moira.”
Without thinking or rebelling, she rose to her feet and behaved as his devoted leman would. Collecting three goblets from the shelf, it occurred to her that from her position behind Niall and Malvina, Léo could see her but they couldn’t. She stared at him, but he would notraise his eyes to hers, seeming focused on Niall and Malvina’s tedious small talk about the upcoming harvest.
Please look at me Léo.She filled three glasses and brought one to Malvina, and to Niall. She passed inches from him, but he would not look at her. As she returned to collect the third glass, the door burst open.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold it any longer. It was a long journey from Pabay.”
Four heads turned in Gordon’s direction. His eyes raked over her. “Wine, wench.”
No one told him to watch his language this time. That is what she’d become. Heart crumpling in on itself she picked up the third glass and handed it to Gordon and returned to the table, lingering, praying.God please, please let him look at me.
Léo’s eyes lifted to hers. Behind Niall, she mouthed the words she couldn’t speak.I’ve missed…
His eyes hardened and he looked back at Niall.
…you every day.
Why was he acting this way? Scorching her with unspoken judgment without knowing what she’d been through at the hands of his brother and stepmother for the last eleven months. All she longed to do was to run into his arms and hold on to him, and he was treating her as if…as if he despised her.
If she could only hold his gaze. She filled Léo’s cup and approached him, praying that this time he would give her a sign that he understood.
Extending the cup to him, she raked her eyes over him in a sensual way and then dropped them demurely, trying to show him it was all an act. His mouth fell open for a moment, and he recovered, taking the goblet from her fingers without another glance. Deflated, she returned to Niall and let him draw her onto his sweating lap.
“Now we’re all settled… I’ve asked you here because I’ve been suffering from the most pestilential dream the past few months. Gordon informs me that you’ve a gift for interpretation. I assume you’ve quite the talent owing to your gain in size.”
Léo sipped his claret, a brief expression of pleasure crossing his face,before he continued. “I’ve interpreted several. The guards have been generous.”
The Shield had been generous. When Moira had last seen him he was a bony shadow of the man he was. Here, now…he looked… she realized she was staring when his hateful eyes met hers, and embarrassed, she looked away. Niall squished her closer, heat growing in the stuffy room.
“I’ve a mind to punish Mowbray for not keeping that in check.” Moira sensed the beginnings of Niall’s temper, and she ran her nose along Niall’s cheek and kissed it until his expression softened. “Well…let’s see if you can do something for me.”
Léo swirled the claret in his glass and drew it to his nose and breathed it in, then tilted it back, letting it wash over his lips. When he’d sipped the wine, he spoke with a note of authority in his voice. “As memory serves me, brother, the last dream we spoke of earned me an extended stay in France.”
Malvina snarled like a tiny dog provoked by Léo’s very presence. “The cheek. You haven’t changed at all.”
Moira ran her fingertips along Niall’s neck, encouraging him to remain soft.
Niall cleared his throat. “Of course, your dream was a lie to taunt my brother and I. This dream is my own, I know it’s real. And I believe it’s meaningful.”
Léo sipped his wine. “Understand that I do nothing for free, brother. I am a MacKinnon after all.” His family name ground out from his lips with bitterness.
“First I need to know where your loyalties lie.”
“My loyalties lie with myself. I cannot pretend I care anything for the Wolf, but my time in prison has helped me see that any misguided loyalty to the Beithir, or whatever he calls himself now, is a waste of my time. He left me there to rot. My only desire is to get to France and to my son. Can you promise that if my interpretation of your dream proves true that you will allow me to leave and return to France?”
A knife of betrayal tore at her heart. Of course he should be with his son, but did he speak in earnest? Did he not care for Hector, for their clan? His tone was so convincing she wasn’t sure.
