Page 87 of The Splendor of Fire
Ardis winked at Léo. “See you in the morn.”
When the door closed, Isobel patted the table in front of her. “Well. I’m off to bed as well. Would you mind cleaning the dishes up before you head in, Moira?” Moira nodded. “And see her safe to our room, Léo.”
Léo nodded. “Absolument.”
Isobel patted his thick shoulder. “Good night to you, but I’m too auld and decrepit to give you a farewell like Ardis.”
Warm laughter rumbled from his chest and he leaned up and kissed her on her velvety white cheek. “Fais de beaux rêves, mon amour.”
The auld woman dissolved into a fit of giggles like a young lass, not immune to his charm even in her seventies.
Across the table, Moira and Léo’s eyes met for the first time in weeks, and they smiled at each other as they listened to Isobel’s giggles fade away down the corridor.
Moira signed.Collecting hearts everywhere you go.
“Aye, but to be fair, I didn’t need to collect hers. I’ve had it since the day I was born. She was my nursemaid.”
Moira thought of his shaky name written in the book in his room.What was it like growing up here?
Leo’s eyes crinkled. “I can only recall life being sad. Maman met my father on a visit to Scotland. Papa was smitten by her beauty. He gave twice the amount of gold her sister received as a bride-price to be his leman. Uncle Arnoul took the gold, glad he did not have to provide a dowry, and she was forced to go to Skye with Papa against her will.”
Suddenly, she saw Blanche d’Audrehem in the context of her tragic life and her heart broke. The woman was not a harlot, she was a prisoner—just as Moira was.
“Maman never saw her mother, or France, again. This role was a curse to her, not a position of honor. After I was born she came to respect Papa because he was a good father—but she was never happy, and she never loved him.”
The look on his face was so haunted, she reached a hand across the table and took his bruised hand.
“Maman tried to protect me. I became my father’s favorite child, which made me the most despised by everyone else. Who could blame Malvina for her resentment? I don’t.”
Love for his mother and pain for what she’d suffered was evident in his voice. “Maman said Papa tried for her, after I was born, to be a better man. He had remorse for what he’d done to her. You wear her coronet for Niall, and it pains me to see you walk the path she walked. And Niall is far worse than my father.”
She did not have a way out. I do.
His brow creased and he scratched the stubble along his jaw.“Oui. You are brave.”
The comment was begrudging, signaling that he still believed her weak. For once, she agreed with him.Not tonight. I was terrified.
Voice tinged with rage, he released her hand, cupping her cheek. “Iwillkill him if he comes near you again. If he thinks about coming near you again.”
Frustration burned in her breast.I don’t want you to protect me. I want to do it myself.
He blinked and looked away. “I care for you, Moira. I want to save you, to fight for you. What’s wrong with having someone to look after you?”
Frustration began to give way to exasperation.I don’t want to be at the mercy of anyone else to save me.
He raised his hand in frustration and muttered in French. “Comme tu veux.”
She nodded and mouthed,Oui, comme je veux.He looked dumbfounded.
I can understand some of your muttering after months of enduring it.
His sandy eyebrows shot up.“Enduring it?”
Muttering when I let you down. When I miss a pass. When I set you off balance. When I don’t do what you want. When I fall short of your high expectations. Which is all the time. You set an impossible standard for me.
“I mutter because you frustrate me.”
Not more than you frustrate me.
