Chapter 21

ALBHAINN POND - JULY 21, 1385

L éo waited at the mouth of the tunnel opening, praying Moira would appear, but knowing he had good and well ruined his chance to win her over. Still, curiosity may get the better of her, or she might be in the mood for fresh air and to get away from Gordon.

His temper flared. The way Gordon stared at Moira with no shame, making unveiled comments about his intentions toward her was enough to ignite his temper. The fact that he believed her a simple-minded fool, an object only around to satisfy the desires of men, made Léo want to put his fist through his yellowing teeth. And he almost had when the goblet popped in his hand, broken in his clenching fist.

Something niggled his conscience. Yet, hadn't that been how Léo himself had been treating her for weeks? Remorse flooded his heart again. Please God, give me another chance. Let me make it up to her.

A sound of movement came from the tunnel. His heart leapt as two hands came to either side of the earthen mound and she swung herself out like a practiced tumbler.

"Moira."

She strode toward him and handed him a belt. "What's this for?"

Bending forward, she lifted her skirt and pulled the dress over her head. Aghast, he turned away .

She plucked the belt from him and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned he found her dressed in black hose and a sleeveless tunic. "Is it necessary to dress like that? It isn't decent."

She rolled her eyes and put a hand to the curve of her hip and she moved her fingers at him.

"What are you saying?"

Massaging her temples that way, it looked as if he was giving her a headache.

He lifted his chin. "I want to learn what Calum has. Teach me how to understand."

Moira folded her dress and placed it on the stump he had been sitting on. She sighed and held up one finger and pointed at him. Her hands made claws that came toward him, then curved inward.

"This means Léo?"

She shook her head in disagreement and mouthed the word. Lion.

" Lion?"

She smiled, then pointed to herself, putting two fingers to her mouth and pinching her fingers rapidly together. Birdy.

"Birdy."

She nodded and kept her right hand straight and tapped her forehead with her fingers. Good day.

He mimicked her. "Bonjour."

With a smirk she mouthed the french back, bonjour . He prayed the ice was melting.

She touched her cheek with her right thumb and then pointed toward the ground. Goodbye.

Again he repeated her sign. " Au revoir. "

She wiggled her fingers, then turned and ran.

He jogged after her. "Wait, where are you going?"

Running as though she had just been freed from a cage, she took off across the meadow, birds launching into the air around her, dipping through the heavens. He picked up his pace and ran beside her, and she turned to him and smiled, pulling her hair free of the plaits and shaking her fingers through her wild hair.

The look of elation on her face made his own spirits lift as they ran side by side, and in his soul he felt something tilt. He had never seen this side of her before, though there had been hints over the past year and a half. Moira trilled the cheery song of the crested tit, her arms wide, her head back. It was as if the pieces of her mystery fitted into place. She didn't belong in castles or fine gowns; she belonged here, in creation, among the wildflowers and mountains.

In a steady pace they ran across the meadow. Sweat built at her temples, but her face beamed with delight. Along the bank of the pond she picked up her pace, then sprang off her palms and launched through the air. As her feet hit the ground she bounced and tucked her hands beneath her knees, flipping again.

Halting, she bent forward in silent laughter, her chest heaving for air.

Breath panting from trying to match her pace, he came to a stop beside her. "Why do you do that?"

She turned up her palms and curled her fingers slightly, bringing them inward. What?

" Why do you tumble around like that?"

She spread her hands, touching her thumbs together, waving her fingers as if they were wings. Flying.

He made the sign. " En volant. You are flying?"

She nodded.

"Why?"

She tilted her head to the side and breathed out in frustration. Walking over to the mud that formed at the edge of the pond, she picked up a narrow stick to write.

The higher I go, the more I feel free.

Léo began to understand.

He inclined his head toward the pond. "And you don't like water?"

Kicking off her shoes, she smoothed the mud with her foot and drug the stick through it. Childhood fear.

"Can you not swim?"

She brought her thumb beneath her chin and moved it outward. I can.

"You can swim, but you won't?"

Her eyes scanned the water, full of fear.

"That's a shame." He walked backward a few paces, reaching over his shoulders, pulling his tunic off, and shedding his shoes and belt. "Because I like to fly too."

He sprinted, springing off a rock and somersaulting toward the water. Out of practice, he over-rotated hitting the water belly first, a tremendous clap filling the valley between the mountains. Flesh stinging, he connected with the bottom and pushed himself back toward the surface.

From the shore she was doubled over laughing.

" Aie , I'm out of practice. Stop laughing, you're hurting my feelings."

Wiping her eyes, she tried to stop but couldn't. A hoarse wheeze emitted from her throat.

He smiled. "It wasn't that funny."

She tried to compose herself and mouthed a word. Oui.

The cold water invigorated him and he dove below, extending his arms, relishing his first swim in too long. He surfaced and floated on his back, arms overhead, sunshine over his skin. After a few minutes, he circled back and found her sitting on the shore, watching with an envious look on her face.

"Come on, Moira."

She shook her head.

"I'll help you, just put your feet in."

She picked her cheek up from her palm.

"Don't you want to feel what it is to love the water? You're not a little girl anymore, you're strong. Let me show you."

She straightened a bit more.

"If you conquer the water you'll be able to fly through the air, sprint across the ground, and swim the deep."

She got to her feet.

"I won't let you drown. There's no waves here, nothing to pull you under. I won't let go of you." She came to the bank and waded in until her ankles were covered. Breath coming in bursts, she unfastened her belt and tossed it into the grass.

Swimming toward her, he came forward until the water was only waist high. "Come toward me."

Taking a breath, she waded in to her knees, then her thighs. He put his hand in hers and she came closer, the water flowing out from her waist. He pulled her a little deeper and her eyes widened with fright.

"What are you afraid of?"

She signed and mouthed. Open. Water.

"Not drowning?"

She shook her head and signed, mouthing careful words. Swept out. Lost. Alone.

Alone. It was Léo's own darkest fear. He closed his hand around hers tightly. "You can't get swept out here. It's not deep enough. You can just stand up and walk out." Moving out until deeper water covered his shoulders, he held on to her.

"Come toward me."

She pushed off the bottom and floated toward him. Out of practice herself, she sank, her arms flying out. He reached out for her small waist and was shocked when she launched onto him like a terrified cat, bringing a wave of water over his head, wrapping her legs and arms around his body. Her cheek rested on his.

"I have you. I won't let go. We're not alone, we have each other."

Tightening his arms around her trembling body, he savored the feeling of her against him, allowing his heart to feel what it had been longing for since she'd been taken—the softness of her skin, the tickle of her curls against his cheek, the beat of her racing heart next to his chest. Holding on to her, he glided through the water making circles, trying to calm her down.

After a few minutes he touched a dripping curl on her shoulder. "Are you better?"

She nodded and loosened her grip around his neck.

"Why don't we try going under the water? You're afraid of being covered by the water, aren't you?"

At once she tightened her grip on him to the point that she was choking him.

He wheezed. "Feel how tight I have you? You aren't going anywhere."

A tremble moved through her and she wrapped her legs tighter around his middle as if he were a tree trunk and she was afraid of falling from a great height .

"We're going to go under the water for five seconds and then we're coming right back up."

Her cheek nodded against his.

" Sur trois. Un, deux …" Her hand beat against his shoulder. And he leaned his cheek into hers and laughed. "Just checking to see if you're paying attention. On three. One, two, three…"

He tightened his arms around her and sank into the water, holding her against him, loving her against him. ... One, two, three, four, five.

Standing, he held her as they surfaced. She blew her breath out and pushed hair from her eyes.

"Excellent. Shall we try for ten seconds?"

She nodded and held on to his neck. "On three. One, two, three…" Closing her within the safety of his arms, they plunged below the water and he counted to ten.

He rose and her body loosened a bit from his. She held her hands up, ten fingers, closed then opened them again.

"Twenty seconds?"

She nodded.

It was all he could do to remember to breathe—he wanted to hold her forever. "Oui."

Arms draped around his neck, her aqua eyes stared into his, her mouth so very close to his. "Sur trois. Un, deux, trois."

He lowered her into the water, sitting upon the bottom of the pond. Beneath the water she stared at him, a smile spreading across her face. His hands held onto her waist and she leaned back, her arms wide. …Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

Planting a foot into his abdomen, she kicked backward into the water. Extending her arms in graceful strokes, she floated along the surface, backstroking across the pond. When she'd gone several feet she dove beneath the water and swam back toward him. Exhilarated and beautiful, she resurfaced. Weeks of ugly words toward her hit him in the conscience. She was exceptional. "Moira, I'm sorry."

She brushed the water out of her eyes and waded back toward the shore.

"Wait, Moira. Don't go. Please." She looked over her shoulder at him as he ran out of the pond after her. He caught her hand and she smiled and rolled her eyes.

He signed. What?

Smile widening, she sprinted toward the rock springing off her hands, twisting and turning, and landing feet first in the water. The somersault that he botched. She surfaced and blew him a kiss, then dove under the water.

Friponne.

Sprinting after her, he bounced off the balls of his feet and flipped into the water. He surfaced and put his hands above his head. "I knew I could still do that."

Swimming past him, she flicked her hand over the surface of the water at him. He splashed water back at her. Feeling playful, he dove after her as she cut through the water, smooth and strong. Swimming beneath her, he brought his hands up to her hips and lifted her out of the water above his head.

Every inch of her body was strong with muscle and she held herself like a swan, arms out over the water. Her face was full of glee and she rasped with laughter. Amused, he lowered her rigid body slowly down, then pressed up again over his head. He looked into her face and she nodded. He drew her down and then launched her into the air.

Arms out, she flew, diving into the water like a gannet. Reemerging seconds later, ` she climbed him like a ladder, her feet upon his hips and shoulders. Clutching her ankles, he squinted against the water falling over him and into his eyes. She tapped his shoulder with one foot to get his attention and pointed to his hands.

He raised his arms above his head and she climbed into his palms, balancing in his grip like a stick.

He held her steady and laughed. "Look at you."

She looked down at him and waved, then blew him another kiss and dove into the water. When she surfaced, she swam back and climbed him again.

"You know I'm not a tree, yes?"

Her foot found his hip and climbed his back, her hand grabbing the front of his face. She planted her feet on his shoulders, balanced and leaned forward, drawing one leg up, her face beside his own, smiling. Her long, wet curls created a veil over them. He held his palms out level with his shoulders. She placed one hand into his, and then the other, and he held her steady as she drew into a handstand inside his palms. He lifted her into the air and looked up into her joyful face. She smiled and mouthed one word. Flying.

He gave her a bounce and shot her into the air, and she flipped, once again balancing her feet in his palms before springing a back flip into the water.

When she surfaced, her face beamed with delight, and she wrapped her arms around his middle.

"Aye. We make a good team."

She mouthed and signed slowly. You're very strong.

Léo's chest swelled. "This is nothing. You're light as a feather."

Something he said sparked in her expression. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bank. "Where are we going?"

Stopping in the soft grass, she pushed his shoulders back and then held him firm.

"Stand still?"

She nodded and pulled his right hand palm up, level with the ground. Pointing to herself, she turned and bent backward, then spun her finger, and made an upward motion with her hand. He understood her instruction.

"Oui, I think I can do that."

Holding up her fingers, she counted… one, two, three …then sprang backward. Léo palmed her back, throwing her into the air. Soaring over him, he caught her foot with his hand and held her aloft just as he'd done in the water.

Delight blanketed her face. She bounced to the ground in front of him, and jumped again. Catching her hips, he threw her upward in an arc, and caught her again in his palm as she drew her feet slowly upward until she was in a handstand.

He chuckled. "This is a unique skill."

Concentrating on each other's eyes, she lowered her forearms and he gave her a bounce of his strength as she flipped to her feet inside his palm. He bounced her again before he caught her waist and guided her to the ground .

Smiling as if she had swallowed the sun, she bent backward and walked over her hands, then squished the water from her hair and gave her head a shake.

"You're not done, are you?"

Her eyebrow lifted and he grabbed her hand and motioned what he had in mind. She nodded. They sprinted toward the rock and flipped in sync with each other and into the water.

Losing self-control, his arms found her and he pulled her to him. At once he understood what Calum meant. He didn't want to capture this bird—he wanted to set her free. In tune with him, her arms came around his neck. His hands brushed down the muscles at her side and rested on the curve of her hips. For a moment, they were back at Cràdh, deeply devoted and in love.

"Who are you, Moira?"

She blinked, her eyes locked on his, her eyebrows shooting up. He wished he could see within her mind and discover every mystery in her.

"Teach me who you really are. Sing and I will follow you, mon petit oiselle ." His forehead came to hers. "Tell me your thoughts, I'm listening now."

Water beaded off her eyelashes and trickled to her lips. He touched the freckle beside her eye and turned in a lazy circle, gliding through the water. His nose brushed hers. Locking eyes with her, he hovered his mouth above hers, testing to see if she approved. His mouth moved toward her own and she pressed her palms away from his chest.

He grasped her hand, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment. He loved her and only her. "Please . "

She shook her head and pointed toward the shore, a brittle grin on her face. She signed and mouthed the words. Time to go.