Highland Barbarian Part 10

She thought about wrapping herself in a fur and 'sleeping with the dogs in front of the fireplace. But she was so weary. So drained.

Before she finally fell asleep, she spent a very troubling night wrestling with the dark thoughts that plagued her. And all of them centered on the man who slept as peacefully as a bairn beside her.

Chapter Four

JVLeredith clung to the safety of sleep. Outside the windows a breeze whispered through the trees. A chorus of birds filled the morning with song. Water splashed. A nearby waterfall, Meredith thought, rolling to one side. Her hand encountered a warm spot among the bed linens. Instantly she opened one eye. The place beside her was empty.

But the warmth of Brice's body still remained. She fought a sudden chill. She had spent the night in his bed.

The splashing grew louder. A waterfall inside the room? She looked up to see Brice washing his face and arms in a basin of water. Her gaze fastened on his muscular shoulders and she felt her throat go dry.

He was terrifying. He was magnificent. Never had she seen a man to match him. His shoulders were wide, corded with muscles. His waist and hips were narrow beneath the bit of cloth tied about his lower torso. She watched as he lifted his head and shook it, sending a spray of water into the air before pressing a linen square to his face. He turned. She studied the mat of dark hair that covered his chest and disappeared below the cloth tied at his waist.

He caught her watching him. G.o.d in heaven, she was lovely. Her dark auburn tresses spilled across the pillow and framed the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. Though she had modestly pulled the bed linens to her chin, he could still recall the lush young body beneath the sheer night shift.

"I trust you slept well." ' "Nay." She avoided his eyes.

"I am not accustomed to sharing my bed with a man."

She saw the frown on his lips before he turned away and began pulling on his tunic. He did not bother to add that her presence in his bed had cost him more than a little sleep as well. He'd been forced to wage a terrible battle with himself over her.

The hounds had been sitting, watching Meredith from across the room.

Now they began timidly approaching the bed. One by one they pressed their noses to her. And though she told herself they were big ugly brutes, she found herself scratching behind their ears, rubbing their thick coats. Two stayed beside the bed, enjoying her tender ministrations. The others turned away, having satisfied their curiosity about this strange female.

"Cara has brought your clothes." Brice indicated the neatly folded pile of garments.

"I will leave you to your privacy. We will break our fast as soon as you join us below stairs."

Meredith watched as he pulled on his brogues and tossed a length of plaid over his arm. His strange manner of dress, leaving his limbs bare, was appealing to her. The sight of his muscular legs was oddly arousing.

"Will I dress for traveling?" she called to him.

He paused in the doorway. The dogs milled about his feet. His tone was sharp.

"Where would you be traveling?"

"Home." She tossed aside the fur throw and sat up. He caught a glimpse of thigh before she slid the night shift down modestly.

"I.

had hoped that you would return me to my people."

"And why would I do that?"

"Last night you said that I had no part in your plan for revenge."

"Aye. But I also told you that now that you are here, you will become the bait."

He saw the frown that darkened her features. She clamped her mouth shut on whatever angry words she was about to hurl.

When the door closed behind him, Meredith sprang from the bed. If he would not take her out of this wilderness, she would find a way to go by herself.

Meredith crept down the stairs. In her arms she carried a coa.r.s.e woolen cloak and a fur throw. Both would be needed for the arduous journey home. She might be forced to wander through these mountain forests for days before finding her way out. She had decided to borrow a few warm things from Brice Campbell's own closet.

At the foot of the stairs she paused to listen. Judging by the voices, the refectory was at the far end of a dim hallway. Casting a furtive glance around, she hurried in the opposite direction and pushed open a door. Inside was a cozy room where a fire had already been prepared in the fireplace. There was a large desk and several oversize chairs, as well as a settle draped with fur in front of the fireplace. Atop the desk were books and ledgers.

Meredith stared around the room with a sense of wonder. This library was even more magnificent than her father's. Did this mean that Brice Campbell could read? She had thought all the Highlanders, and this man in particular, were vulgar and uneducated.

Locating a tall armoire she thrust her bounty inside and quietly latched the door. Then she made her way back down the hallway and followed the sound of voices to the refectory.

She paused outside the door and listened.

"to the Borders alone." It was Price's voice, low, calculating.

"But why can I not go along?"

Meredith peered inside. Angus and Holden sat across the table from Brice. Angus was arguing with his friend. She could not see his face, but she could hear the note of protest in his voice.

"The MacKenzies are not the only ones who will kill you on sight. Do not forget, old friend, that you have incurred the wrath of the MacAlpin clans as well. You have their woman."

"Their leader," Brice corrected.

"Leader?" It was another man, tall, red bearded, who had ridden with Brice on the morning raid.

Meredith saw Brice's head nod.

"With Alastair MacAlpin dead, she is now the MacAlpin."

There was a murmur among the dozen men at the table. Jamie, seated on Brice's left, looked impressed.

"Why, she's no bigger than I am. How can a helpless female be leader of her clan?"

"Helpless?" Brice gave a mirthless laugh, recalling her attack of the previous night.

"Never let the looks of a woman deceive you, Jamie lad. The lady is far from helpless."

Though Brice's words were more amused than irritated, Meredith was more impressed by what she'd heard before that. She stood back, pondering all that had been said. Brice Campbell did not sound like a man who had knowingly murdered her father. Nor did it sound as though Angus or the others had anything to do with that terrible act.

Obviously Gareth MacKenzie had been wrong. But why had he seemed so certain that Brice Campbell was guilty?

When she returned home she would confront Gareth. But for now, there was only one thought. She must elude her captors and make her way back home.

Brice and the others looked up as she entered. The hounds circled about her ankles, then settled down once more by the fire.

Beneath the bulky shawl, she was wearing the filmy white confection.

Her wedding gown. Brice felt a swift pang of remorse. How she must hate him for altering forever the course of her life.