Cleo stood staring at the pages in her hand as if they were her father’s body still lying upon the floor of his office surrounded by his own blood. A sob caught in her throat, swiftly followed by the need to scream at the top of her lungs. She must have looked as if she were going to faint or explode, because Arthur took hold of her elbow and eased her into the nearest chair.
“He knew,” she whispered. “He knew that he was going to die and did not bother to tell me or to say a proper goodbye. Instead, he leaves me with a series of riddles and a letter that tells me no more than I knew from the start!” A pang of guilt coursed through her being for her rash outburst. She had not meant to seem ungrateful, the letter had actually meant a great deal to her, but it had also caused her a great deal of pain. It had been that pain that had caused her to lash out.
“I am sorry, lass,” Arthur murmured drawing her into his arms.
“I am so very sorry for the way I treated you before. Father was right. You are a good and trustworthy man. I was a fool to ever doubt it, and I have harmed us both in the doing of it.”
“I told ye afore that all is forgiven and that I understand. Ye did nae ken who I truly was yet, and yer world was filled with secrets and doubts. I am only glad tae hear yer faither’s parting words. I am honored that he spoke o’ me thusly and swear tae ye, lass, that if ye will let me, I will protect ye until my dying day.”
Cleo looked up into his face, her heart overwhelmed by all of the emotions that she was feeling, but, at that moment, she knew one thing without a doubt. All of her reservations about Arthur had faded away, leaving nothing but love. “I love you, Arthur,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “I love you.”
Arthur’s face lit up as if she had given him the best gift in the entire world. His eyes took on a glossy sheen that made her think he might have been close to tears. “Ye have made me the happiest man in all o’ Britain!”
Standing on tiptoe, Cleo tentatively brushed her lips against his, softly at first and then with great ardor. The world spun around them as they became lost in each other’s arms. It was the most exquisitely delicious feeling that she had ever felt and was only dampened by the thoughts of her father’s parting words. Pulling away, Cleo laid her head on Arthur’s chest and just stood there letting him hold her. She needed the comfort that came when she was around him, more than she could say.
Arthur gently caressed her back, soothing her weary spirit, and kissed the top of her head softly. Sighing, Cleo closed her eyes and let the tension fall from her body. For the first time since losing her father, she allowed another person to help her bear her pain and it was as if she had been living in a never-ending rainstorm and suddenly the clouds had parted and let a single ray of sunshine in. They stood there not speaking for some time as Cleo came to terms with everything that her father had and had not said.
“What do you think he meant by that last line?” Cleo asked, not bothering to lift her head, but let it lay where it was against his chest.
“For the Moon sets and rises in your hair.”
“Yes, that one.”
“I dinnae ken, but I thought it tae be sweet, if nae oddly worded.”
“Yes, no one ever says that the moon sets or rises. The sun yes, but I have never heard it said of the moon. The moon is either not in the sky or it is considered to be out. I have also never heard of the word‘sets’coming before the word‘rises’in such a fashion. Have you?”
“Nae that I can remember,” Arthur shook his head. “I found it tae be quite strange, even for yer faither.”
Cleo laughed. “That is saying something after everything that he has put us through.”
“Aye, it is,” Arthur agreed, chuckling.
The reverberations of his chest tickled Cleo’s ear and she smiled. “But you are right. It is strange even for him. The moon cannot be in anyone’s hair and my hair is not white or gray as the moon is.” Cleo frowned in thought. “I fail to see the relevance of such a nonsensical statement. It is almost as nonsensical as those runes were.”
“Or the other coded gibberish that brought us tae this moment.”
“He brought us together, my father, even before he intended to.”
“Aye, he did, and I will forever be grateful to him for it.”
“I am so very tired. I feel as if I could sleep for a year.”
“I will go so that ye may rest, but I will return upon the morrow tae ensure that ye are well and tae see if we can uncover what yer faither meant by his parting riddle.”
“Will you come for dinner?”
“Aye, I would be delighted,” he smiled, caressing her cheek with his thumb.
“Thank you, Arthur, for everything. I could never have gotten this far without you.”
“Always, lass. Always,” he promised, then kissing her one last time on the lips, he was gone.
Cleo left the study and locked the door behind her. She climbed the stairs to her room and fell gratefully into bed. She had not realized just how much her father not saying goodbye had bothered her. Now, having read his farewell letter, and after getting over the initial anger and shock of it all, she felt a deep sense of gratitude that she had been given this one last gift.
“Thank you, Father, for my life, for your letter, for Arthur, for everything,” she whispered into the still air surrounding her bed, then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, finally surrendering to the peacefulness of oblivion for the first time since losing her father. There was much yet still to do and to discover, but it would wait, and when the time came, she would have Arthur by her side. “Thank you especially for Arthur.”
Chapter 24
