Page 41 of Leila’s Legacy

13

Leila woke to a stream of sunlight spilling into her chamber and a lonely bed. She did not know how long the Lion had lain at her side before he’d left, but the sheets no longer held his warmth or scent.

The dream came rushing back at her once more, along with the sharp ache at her shoulder. She pushed down the sleeve of her kirtle where the five bone white spots stood out on her skin.

The Lion had promised never to hurt her, but she knew better. A new heaviness settled on her heart, more than just that of her own impending death. It was that cloud over Werrick Castle. She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyes, as if she could blot the image out and obliterate its meaning.

Who was the one who would fall ill?

Would it be Isla who worked with the villagers and exposed herself to the illness every day? Mayhap Bernard from his time praying over those dying from the great mortality? Mayhap Father?

Her chest squeezed painfully. Illness was coming to Werrick Castle.

She craved the gentle comfort the Lion had offered so willingly the night before, enough that it dragged her from the warmth of her bed and to the door. “Are you there, Lion?”

No reply came, which was answer enough.

He was gone.

He remained away for a majority of the day and did not return until later that afternoon. Her meals were carried in by the maid who offered little more than a wary glance with each visit. Other than that, Leila was left with the hauntings in her mind of all the terrible things to come.

A knock sounded. “Lady Leila, ’tis Niall.” The door opened and the Lion entered.

“Niall?” Leila stared at him. “Are you not called the Lion?”

He lifted his lips in a boyish half smile that lightened his face. “More so by people who are not well-acquainted with me.” The morning light caressed his hair and hazel eyes and cast him in gold. “I’d like it if ye called me Niall.”

There was a quiet note of intimacy to his voice that left a delicious awareness dancing over her skin. She offered a shy nod.

“Alban has left. I saw to his departure myself this morning.” Niall offered a courtly bow. “My lady, you are safe.”

“Thank you.” She twisted her fingers together even as her stomach knotted with worry. “Is there any word from Werrick Castle?”

The skin around his eyes tensed. A look of suspicion? Apprehension iced over Leila’s veins. She would need to be careful with what she let Niall know. He appeared convinced of her innocence. But if he knew she could see into the future, that she sometimes glimpsed the past, would he be so understanding? Would he continue to be so kind?

Or would he truly be the one to kill her?

She knew the answer already, of course. A shiver rattled through her.

“There isna word from Werrick.” He glanced down at where her arms were folded over her chest, where her raised flesh from the cold showed on her forearms. “I’ll have yer cloak brought to ye. I shouldna have forgotten it.”

She nodded her thanks.

“Are ye sure ye’re well?” he asked. “Ye seem melancholy.”

She swallowed down the sorrow rising within her for her family. “I’m well, thank you.”

It was the same answer she continued to give for the next four days, any time Niall asked how she fared. Each of those nights, he had brought food for them to share as they spoke about their lives and their families.

It had been kind of him to share food with her when she would otherwise simply have had stale bread and cheese. It had been even more generous of him to crack his heart open and let her glimpse inside at the boy he had been. He had been absent a mother’s love and his father was seldom home. Niall’s poor behavior as a youth had awarded him attention and ultimately led to his rebelliousness.

He did not guard her through the night again. There was no need with Alban on a scouting mission. Nor had Niall kissed her again. She was most chagrined about that, even as she appreciated his company.

It was late morning on the fifth day after Alban’s departure that a key rattled in the lock. She had scarcely heard it as she’d been so lost in her thoughts. Each night brought dreams of the cloud over Werrick Castle, and of her own death.

She’d refrained from asking after Werrick Castle, but it was never far from her mind. The door opened, drawing her from her thoughts. Her foolish heart lifted in anticipation of seeing Niall and the reprieve he offered from her constant worrying.

Except it was not Niall who entered the chamber, but Alban.