Highland Barbarian Part 45

"Oh, Brice," she breathed against his mouth.

"Will you some day grow weary of me and tire of our lovemaking?"

He chuckled, low and deep in his throat, and the sound sent tremors along her spine.

"Never, my lady. It would take an eternity and beyond to even dim the love that s.h.i.+nes within me for you."

She relaxed against him and lost herself in the kiss.

"But I have a better way to prove my love," he muttered, s.h.i.+fting until he hovered over her.

"Far better than words."

Brice lay very still, unwilling to disturb the woman who slept so peacefully in his arms.

All night they had loved, slept, then loved again until they were sated. And still he had not had enough of her. Nothing would ever be enough. A hundred times. A thousand years. He loved her. Body and soul. Completely.

He thought of the beautiful young woman he had watched from the tower of the cathedral. Clothed all in white, her spine rigid, her head held high. Even then he had sensed the strength in her, the determination.

And when he had first looked into her eyes he had read the goodness there.

He dared not lose. He wanted the love they shared to be sanctified and blessed by the kirk. He wanted the entire country to know that the Highland Barbarian was loved by this beautiful Lowlands woman. He wanted to shout of their love from the highest mountain.

He glanced at Meredith and saw the slight nicker of her eyes. Sleep was leaving her now. Within moments she would awaken.

His woman.

The decision was made instantly. He would send a messenger to the Lowlands to learn the fate of her people. He would wed her now, as soon as it was possible to prepare a wedding feast. And then, with the might of his Highland warriors behind her, she would return triumphant to her people. With the combined strength of her armies and his, Gareth MacKenzie would not dare to continue his litany of murder and lies.

They could bring a renewed sense of peace between the Highlanders and Lowlanders. Perhaps, because of their love, the Scots lairds could cease their endless fighting and join forces to combat their true foe, the English invaders.

Meredith's eyes opened and she found Brice watching her. On his face was a smile of such contentment, she answered with a smile of her own.

"You look rather pleased this mom, my lord."

"Aye. How could I be less than pleased with the woman I love lying in my arms?"

She sighed and drew her arms around his neck.

"I feared -I would awake and discover it was all a dream."

"It was no dream, my love," he murmured against her lips.

"Nor is this."

His kiss was hot, hungry. His lips persuasive. And because he had spent the night learning all the secret, intimate places of her body, he was able to arouse her instantly.

"If it be a dream," she breathed inside his mouth, "pray do not wake me till it is over."

Chapter Fifteen

q^t^ts^q -Locked in the arms of her love, Meredith drifted on a cloud of contentment. For days now they had closeted themselves in Brice's chambers, leaving their private haven only occasionally to inspect the work being done on the great hall.

Though everyone at Kinloch House, servants and soldiers alike, whispered about the lovers, Brice and Meredith remained blissfully unaware of anything except each other. Wrapped in a safe coc.o.o.n of love, it mattered not to them that they were the object of much speculation.

When Mistress Snow realized what was happening, she instructed the servants to respect the privacy of the laird of the manor and his lady.

Their meals were announced, then set up quickly in the sitting chamber.

Fires were laid, tapers lit in sconces, linens replaced with as much haste as possible.

Even Angus conspired to keep young Jamie so busy with the carpentry work that the lad had almost no time to visit with Brice and Meredith.

Or to disturb their bliss.

Through it all the young couple was so absorbed in their newly discovered love for each other, they never noticed what went on around them.

In the great hall Brice moved among his men, stopping often to admire the work being done. In the doorway Meredith paused to watch. It was so good to see Brice move without the stiffness that had marked his movements immediately after the battle with the MacKenzies. At last his health was completely restored. His full strength had returned.

At the clatter of arriving horses in the courtyard she turned and made her way to the door. Alston, the red- bearded warrior who had long fought beside Brice, dismounted and handed over his mount to a stable boy before striding across the courtyard.

Glancing at the lathered steed Meredith remarked,

"You have ridden far, Alston."

"Aye, my lady." He shook the dust from his plumed hat and paused.

"I.

come from the Lowlands."

Home. The thought was poignant, fleeting. She quickly dismissed it.

"Was there a reason you rode so far from your Highlands?"

"Brice set for me the task of gathering information about the MacAlpins and the MacKenzies, my lady."

She was oddly touched by Brice's concern.

"And how do my people fare without me?"

"They continue to be plagued by night riders and highwaymen who steal their sheep and cattle, and even murder those unfortunate enough to be out after dark."

Her smile faded.

"And Gareth MacKenzie?"

He seemed to hesitate for a fraction before saying softly, "Gareth MacKenzie rides to Holyroodhouse to have the queen declare you dead."

"Dead!" Her eyes widened in shock.

"But why would he do such a thing?"