Instantly her pulse leaped.
"It is just that I have never before been forced to lie about while others cared for me. Though it may be the dream of many a man, it does not sit well with me."
She smiled and dropped to her knees beside him.
"I know that, my lord. But I do not think you understand just how close to death you were. We feared each minute would be your last. Now that you have survived, we enjoy taking care of you. We all feared that you would not return to us from that other world that held you in its grip."
"Had I not returned, would you have grieved, my lady?"
The words were spoken lightly, but Meredith was aware of the way he watched her while she responded to his question.
"Aye. I would have grieved, as would all the others who--care for you."
Her reply gave a sudden lift to his spirits.
"Help me up, Meredith."
"You wish to walk to the window?"
"Nay." He flashed her a smile and she felt her heart stop for a moment.
"I wish to go below stairs and see what causes my men to disturb my rest."
"You have not attempted the stairs yet, my lord. The effort may sap your strength."
"It is high time I tried. Give me a hand."
As Meredith leaned toward him he wrapped his arm about her shoulder and got to his feet. Though she felt the jolt at his touch, she forced herself to behave as though nothing had happened.
"Stand very still for a moment," she cautioned.
"It is only natural to feel light-headed when you first stand."
"And I thought it was because of the nearness of you."
She turned her head and was aware of his wicked smile.
"Be warned, my lord, that if you tease me beyond my limits, I shall be forced to take action."
"Will you put a potion in my broth?"
She laughed.
"Nay, my lord. I will simply let you go. Without me to lean on, you are as helpless as a baim."
"You would be so cruel to a man who has returned from death"s door?"
She shot him a sideways glance and began to walk slowly toward the doorway, with Brice clinging to her. "You will only discover the answer to that if you overstep your bounds."
At the entrance to his chambers he bowed slightly, then caught her arm once more.
"I will be the model of a Scots gentleman."
"That you most certainly shall. Or you will be forced to make a very ungentlemanly appearance at the foot of the stairs. In a heap."
With a laugh he made his way down the great stone steps, leaning heavily on her strength.
The stench of charred wood still clung to the lower rooms of the castle. Along the walls the rich tapestries, many of them woven a century earlier, hung in tatters. The fur-draped settles lay in a broken heap beside the fireplace, to be burned as needed. Blackened beams crisscrossed the ceiling, while soot-covered windows blocked all but a few jagged rays of sunlight.
A dozen men, stripped to the waist, strained beneath the weight of the trunk of a giant tree that was being lifted, by a series of ropes and pulleys, to the ceiling, where it would replace a beam destroyed by fire.
When the men spotted Brice they called and shouted their greetings.
Those not engaged in the effort at hand crowded around him and clapped him on the shoulder or embraced him warmly.
Angus, in charge of a work crew, shouted a few orders before hurrying forward to greet his old friend.
"We had hoped to have all of this completed before you had a chance to see the damage."
Staring about him, Brice"s tone was almost reverent. "From the looks of things it is a miracle that all was not lost. How did you manage to save Kinloch House, old friend?"
"Everyone helped," Angus said modestly.
"The servants worked alongside our men until they could no longer stand. I saw men beating out the flames with their bare hands. And I saw women remove their skirts and use them against the fire. But in the end, we won."
"And now you labor to restore what was destroyed."
"It is good work. It has brought all of us together for a common goal.
The anger we feel toward Gareth MacKenzie drives us, feeding our energy."
Brice cast an admiring look at his old friend, then turned to where Jamie and several men were planing a second timber.
"I thought it was time the lad learned other than battle skills,"
Angus said quietly.
With Meredith"s a.s.sistance, Brice walked closer.
Jamie gave him a wide smile.
"Bowen says I will soon be able to work alone, with only a bit of a.s.sistance from him."
" "Then you must be doing a fine job. Bowen is the most skilled woodsman in our company."
Jamie beamed at the praise. Though he continued working, he often looked up to watch as Brice moved about the great hall. Leaning on Meredith"s arm Brice walked slowly about, stopping often to talk with the men.
When Mistress Snow announced that their meal was ready in the refectory, the men set down their tools and pulled on their tunics before following their leader from the room.
It pleased Meredith to see Brice join his men at table. Servants pa.s.sed around steaming bowls of soup and freshly baked bread. Joints of mutton and b.r.e.a.s.t.s of pheasant rounded out the meal, along with tankards of mead and ale. Although Brice ate sparingly, he seemed to gain strength just being a part of this jovial company.