"Holden."
Instantly his friends were at his side.
Brice handed them the weapons.
"See that these are kept away from the lady." He emphasized the word "lady."
Angus nodded toward Meredith.
"Angus Gordon, my lady."
Meredith studied the man who stood beside his friend. Smaller by a head, sandy hair fell in a riot of curls over his freckled forehead.
His blue eyes danced with the promise of laughter lurking just beneath their clear depths. In her state of anger Meredith refused to acknowledge him, except for a slight nod of her head.
"Holden Mackay," Brice said by way of curt introduction.
"Of the clan Mackay to the east."
Meredith studied the burly man. At first glance he appeared to have no neck. His head seemed to rest upon his ma.s.sive shoulders. His upper arms, like his chest and shoulders, were corded with muscles. As he lifted several weapons with the ease of a seasoned warrior, he turned and, for the first time, stared directly at her.
"My lady." He inclined his head slightly.
"Your stay at Kinloch House should prove to be most interesting."
Meredith shivered at the suggestion in his words. But it was his eyes that frightened her. They were cold, lifeless. Like his soul? she wondered.
"I will join you below stairs," Brice called to his friends.
When the two men left, Jamie continued to stand in the doorway staring with fascination at the beautiful woman who was Brice"s captive.
"Jamie. Be gone, lad."
The boy blushed clear to his toes before rushing from the room.
When they were alone Meredith lifted her head a fraction and faced her captor.
Again he felt the pull and had to force himself to step back, away from the heat of her.
He deliberately turned his back on her and walked to the adjoining sitting chamber.
"I will have food sent to you. My servants will see to your comfort."
At the door he turned toward her with a look that struck terror in her heart. His eyes were dark, dangerous.
"If you try to leave this room you will find yourself most uncomfortable."
"Do you think I fear death at your hand?"
He gave her a chilling smile.
"Perhaps it is not death I have in mind, Meredith MacAlpin. Perhaps it is something far worse for a lady such as you. At the hands of a-- barbarian like myself."
His words sent a shiver along her spine. She had been prepared to die.
But the thought of being used by him like some tavern s.l.u.t sent her into a state of near hysteria.
He called to the hounds and they ran eagerly from the room.
When the door closed, Meredith began to pace the length of the room and back. She must find another weapon with which to defend herself.
With a feeling of desperation she searched every inch of the room.
She was not a woman who accepted defeat grace n fully. But defeated she would be without a weapon. As she turned dejectedly toward the bed, she spotted a rough cloak dropped carelessly in the corner of the room. Beneath it she found a dagger, small and sharp. With trembling fingers she concealed it beneath her gown.
This time her captor had not even bothered to disarm her--had merely ordered her to drop her weapon and she had. Now he would think her too puny, too insignificant, to dare to defy him. Hopefully he would not bother checking her for a weapon again.
She strode toward the fireplace and stood, deep in thought. The next time Brice Campbell came for her she knew what she must do.
Chapter Three
When the door to the sitting chamber opened, Meredith"s hand automatically moved to the dagger at her waist as she swung around to face her captor. In her eyes was the look of a warrior.
"I brought you food, my lady."
Upon seeing the serving girl Meredith let out a long hiss of breath.
The girl was nearly as tall as a man, with blond hair neatly plaited and twisted about her head. As she set the tray on a table near the fireplace, Meredith noted that her hands were large and work worn.
"What is your name?"
"Cara."
"Have you served Brice Campbell long, Cara?"
With ease the girl pulled a ma.s.sive chair in front of the table and waited for Meredith to seat herself.
"I was born here in Kinloch House while my lord Campbell and my father were in France. When my father died in France, my lord arranged for my mother and me to stay on here."
"And you do not object to being forced into service?"
"My lady, it is a fine life for us. If my lord Campbell had turned us out, where would we have gone?"
"Have you no family?"
fully. But defeated she would be without a weapon. As she turned dejectedly toward the bed, she spotted a rough cloak dropped carelessly in the corner of the room. Beneath it she found a dagger, small and sharp. With trembling fingers : she concealed it beneath her gown.
This time her captor had not even bothered to disarm her--had merely ordered her to drop her weapon and shehad. Now he would think her too puny, too insignificant, to dare to defy him. Hopefully he would not bother checking her for a weapon again.