RETURN HOME
The next morning, they rode away from the inn, a delicious breakfast in their bellies and their heads full of plans.
“We should head west until we reach the coast,” Conn explained.
Leona frowned at him, riding by his side on a jennet horse they had hired from the inn. “Conn, we can't risk being seen on the road.”
Conn nodded. “I know.” He had told her of his fight with the Comte, and of how the man had – according to Father Antoine – put a price on his head. As long as the Comte was alive, they would not be safe in France.
“We could go north,” Leona suggested. “Go to Burgundy. We would be safe there.”
“We could,” Conn agreed. They decided that was what they would do. When they stopped at an inn that night, they shared the table with two carters. The talk turned to local events.
“...and it's a great shame. So young he was, too!”
“What has happened?” he whispered to Leona.
“Someone's dead,” Leona whispered back. “Who has died?” she asked the men in French.
“The Count of Cleremont. Only nine and twenty...too young to die in your bed, for certes.”
“He's dead?” Leona whispered, aghast.
“Aye,” the other carter agreed. “Slain in hand-to-hand combat...died of his wounds about two days ago. May God rest his soul.”
“Indeed.”
The two carters crossed themselves piously and Leona did the same, and then turned to look at Conn. His face was white with amazement, telling her he had understood too.
“He's dead,” she whispered in surprise. “The Comte is dead.”
That changed their plans. They decided to go back the way they had come, heading south again, and west. On the way they passed Annecy, skirting the main road.
“It seems Uncle might get his land after all,” Leona commented to Conn when they passed the village, heading ever westward.
“It does,” Conn agreed quietly. “What he'll do with it, a man all alone, I cannot imagine.”
“Me neither,” Leona nodded. “In some way, I feel sorry for him.”
“Sorry! Leona!” Conn looked at her in amazement, shifting in his saddle to face her. “After all he did?”
“He didn't actually do anything,” Leona said softly. “He is scheming and ruthless, yes; but I couldn't help liking him.”
Conn shook his head and said nothing. They rode on past the small, whitewashed village and on into the growing dusk.
A week later, they reached the sea. Passage to Scotland proved not too hard to find; and the rest of Leona's necklace paid for it. The crossing was swift and neither of them was seasick, which surprised them both.
Leona stood on the deck, watching the land approach.
So different than when I went away.
She could feel Conn's strong presence beside her, hear the snap of the wind in his cloak. She reached out a hand to hold his, recalling how desolate she had felt when she knew she was leaving him that first time.
He took her fingers in his own and they stood together, while the rigging snapped, the seagulls called and the sea bore them toward their homeland.
When they reached the docks at Queensferry, Conn walked off first, and then bowed to Leona, helping her ashore. They walked up the quay together.
“My lord! My lady!” the innkeeper greeted them in their native tongue. “A pleasure to have such fine folks staying here. Welcome!”
Leona felt the words wash over her, spoken in her own language. She turned to Conn, blinking back tears. He too was smiling, a grin of pure delight.
“We'll have your best room, sir! And a bowl of stew and mugs of ale!”
They celebrated that night and then afterward, in bed, they lay together on their home soil for the first time.
Leona snuggled against Conn, feeling his already-familiar presence in the darkness. The only sound was the crackle of the fire in the grate and the soft whisper of his breath. “Conn,” she whispered.
“What?” He rolled onto his side, body pressed to hers. She felt her own body tingle with arousal, feeling evidence of his desire for her, pressed against her hip.
“We're back. We're home.”
He stroked her hair. “We are, lass. That we are.”
They made love slowly at first, then with complete abandon. Leona felt as if her whole body had melted, consumed in the fire of their passion. She lay beside him, skin wet with sweat, her whole body relaxed inside and out.
The next morning, they made love again, then left, beginning the long ride home.
The forests and glens, hills and lakes seemed as familiar as always, though made new and wonderful again in their absence. They talked, laughed, chatted, and rejoiced in everything, from the solemn grandeur of a pine tree to the smell of heather. When they reached the last few miles of the journey, they fell entirely silent.
I'm here, Leona thought, trembling with wonder. After all my long adventures, I'm here at home.
She knew Conn was feeling it as well, for he was completely silent. They rode through the trees, Leona's heart pounding in her chest as she heard and saw and smelled all the familiar sights and sounds of home.
“Who goes there?”
Leona felt her face split with a smile as Alec, the gate guard, shouted a challenge.
“It's Conn McNeil, you rascal,” Conn shouted back, throwing back the hood of his cloak. “And the Lady Leona. Open at once! We're home.”
“Conn?” Alec went gray with shock. “You...we thought you were dead! The master held a mass in your name! And Lady Leona? We heard you'd settled in a foreign land! Welcome! This has been a house of mourning. Now it's a house of joy!”
Leona stared at Conn in wonderment. They thought Conn was dead? Her settled? Leona felt her heart beat faster.
“They're in for a shock,” Conn chuckled.
Leona nodded, feeling strangely apprehensive. She hadn't seen her family for months! What would they say? What would they think of her? What would...
“Daughter..?” Alina was on the step. Dressed in black velvet, hair bound back, she walked slowly down the staircase from the great hall, as if she had grown suddenly old.
“Mother!”
“Daughter!”
Alina ran down the stairs toward her and Leona ran up to meet her, launching herself into her arms. She drew her mother's slim body firm against her, shocked at how frail she seemed. “Mother! It's me! I'm back!”
Alina smiled, stepping back and looking into her face, a hand stroking her hair. She searched Leona's eyes then nodded. “Daughter,” she said, smiling. “You are happy. I am so glad. Your journeys have brought you to a sunny shore.”
Leona shivered, recalling her mother's prophecy. “Yes, Mother. They have. I am so happy.”
“And this is Conn,” Alina said, looking at him in wonder. “I did wonder if you were not alive somewhere. I said...”
“Conn!” A voice screamed, cutting through Alina's soft statement. They all turned toward the top of the staircase.
Chrissie was standing there, her cherry red gown blowing back as she ran, her face suffused with wonder, tears streaming down her cheeks. She cannoned into her son and held him to her chest, sobbing and laughing, kissing his face. “Oh, Conn!” she breathed. “It is you! It really, really is! I thought I heard your voice in the courtyard! Oh, my boy. My own wonderful boy...”
“Conn!”
Alf appeared behind them, Amice at his side. Alf raced to his brother, wrapping him in a bear hug that almost knocked him off his feet.
Leona cringed, knowing how Conn's wounds still ached sometimes. He went pale, but ruffled his younger brother's hair. “My brother,” he said. “I am so glad to see you again.”
“We thought you were dead!” Amice said frankly. Leona looked at her cousin and Amice blushed, covering her mouth. “Well, we did,” she insisted as she embraced Leona, squashing her older cousin till Leona thought she might stop breathing.
“Amice,” she smiled into the heart-shaped face, stroking her red hair. “I'm so pleased to see you.”
“Come inside!” Amice insisted. “Mother will have such a feast prepared! We want to hear all about it, and how you came back and how you came to be together and...”
As she chattered away excitedly, Alf and Conn following her up the steps into the great hall, Leona talked to Alina.
“So you are married, then, my daughter?” Alina asked softly.
“How did you..? Well, ignore that. Of course you knew,” Leona smiled fondly at her mother. “Oh, Mother! I missed you so! I love you.”
Alina relaxed. She smiled at Leona, all the tension draining out of her dark eyes. “Leona, my daughter. I sometimes thought you wished I was more like Amabel, worldlier, less...involved with the future,” she sighed. “I am glad to hear that you do not dislike me for it.”
“Oh, Mother!” Leona squeezed her hand, disbelief on her face. “How could you even think that? Yes, I found you hard to understand sometimes, but I do love you; so very much.”
Alina blinked and the two of them swallowed, trying not to cry. Then they went inside.
Aunt Amabel did indeed provide a feast.
Sitting in the great hall at the main table, the men-at-arms and serving staff packed in behind them, at the lower tables, Leona and Conn did their best to answer all the questions their family put to them.
“...And so we married in Bois,” Conn explained, squeezing Leona's hand for reassurance.
“I know it well,” Duncan, Leona's father, commented where he sat beside his wife. “A lovely town. We were there once, were we not, sweetling?”
“Many years ago,” Alina said with fond impatience.
They all laughed.
“Well,” Uncle Broderick, the thane of Dunkeld, said with a broad smile, “this calls for a celebration!” he stood, cup raised in hand. “To the newly-wedded pair! Lady Leona and Lord Conn!”
As the serving men and women and the men-at-arms and their wives and families took up the cry, beating against the boards and stamping their feet in applause, Leona turned to Conn and blushed. They were official.
Later, when they lay in bed together, Leona realized something. She turned to Conn in wonderment. “Conn, my sweet. I'm not pregnant.”
Conn looked at her, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You're not..?”
“No!”
They both laughed and then Leona cried, weeping with relief. She had not known how terribly the thought weighed on her, the possibility that they might have a child that was not Conn's. An eternal reminder of that awful event in the woods. Though she would have tried to love the child, she would always have known his origins and it would have been hard.
“Oh, Leona,” Conn whispered. “I am so glad. We're free of that. You're free of that.”
“We are,” Leona agreed. “I can forget now, in truth.”
She smiled and they made love with a passionate abandon that they had not known before, their love free to be expressed to its fullest. Leona felt as if she could truly trust Conn, truly give herself up to the passions that moved through her. It was a new, wonderful place of connection for them both.
As she lay beside him, her hair damp with perspiration, his body snuggled tight to hers, Leona realized that she was absolutely, completely happy.
“Conn,” she whispered, stroking his hair.
“Yes, my love?”
“I love you.”
Conn sat up and kissed her hair. “My sweetling,” he said, “I love you too. As big as the summer sky. As big as mountains. Forever and ever.”
They kissed.
They joined the family at the table for breakfast, and found that they had slotted in almost as if they had never left. The day stretched to a week, and the week to a fortnight.
Leona sat stitching a new dress in the solar. She heard footsteps in the hallway and smiled, recognizing them. “Conn?”
“Leona!” his face lit up when he saw her and she smiled.
“My dear.”
“Leona! I have...there is a messenger for you downstairs.”
“Oh?” Leona frowned. She stood, dusting a hand down the blue skirt of her gown. “Who is it?”
“It's best if you go down,” Conn demurred.
When Leona reached the hallway, she was tense with apprehension. To her amazement, she saw a face she recognized. “Allie? And Ferrier?”
Her maid grinned broadly. “We didn't mean to give you a fright, milady,” Allie explained.
“But what? How..?” Leona hugged her maid, feeling overwhelmed. “What are you doing here?”
Ferrier smiled. “His lordship the count sent us. He had...words with his overseer, Montaigne. They came up with a plan.”
“What plan?” Leona asked.
“Um...” Ferrier began. They spoke French, but Allie interrupted in her native tongue.
“Lady Leona, the land's yours!”
“What?” Leona stared at them.
Allie giggled and even solemn Ferrier had to smile.
He cleared his throat and took up the narrative. “My lady, the count, my master, truly did care for you. He decided that, since the land on his southern border has recently become larger...” he paused, letting the information sink in, then continued. “Since he, um, came into the land he had wanted, there is much land he no longer needs. He has decided to pass all of the eastern section on to you. As a gift,” he added.
Leona stared at him. “What?” Conn came to stand beside her and she gripped his hand, feeling as if she had just woken up in another world. “Conn,” she whispered.
“What, my dear?”
When Leona had finished explaining to him, he grinned at her.
“Leona. You mean...you mean all that land is ours?”
“Only the eastern part, my dear...”
“Leona!” he laughed, amazed. “That place is big enough to lose an army in!”
Leona looked at him in wonder. Then she too, smiled. “My dear, we are rich.”
He shook his head, smile broadening. “No, dear,” he said. “We were always rich. Now we are prosperous.”
Leona laughed, knowing what he meant. “Yes, my dear. We were always rich. We always had each other.”
Conn nodded. He drew her into his embrace and they held each other tightly. Leona closed her eyes and felt her heart thudding, her joy soaring like a lark, high above her head. She and Conn kissed, and when they drew apart, she smiled into his eyes. “I love you, Conn,” she whispered.
“And I love you too, Leona.”
The last part they said together, tears of joy running down her face. “I love you as big as the summer sky, as big as mountains. Forever and ever.”