Highland Barbarian Part 7

"Why not?" Angus shrugged.

"You know they would carry your standard anywhere."

"They have wives and children to consider. I will not place them in danger for the sake of my reputation."

"Then you and I will go." Angus grinned.

"You know I like nothing better than a good joust. Especially with the likes of Gareth MacKenzie."

"And I will ride with you," Jamie said, jumping to his feet.

"I have no need to stay here."

Brice's temper cooled.

"Aye. We're three of a kind." His frown turned into a smile. He could never resist Jamie's enthusiasm.

- "Then we'll go back down and make good our promise?"

"You have a duty to stay here and grow to manhood," Brice murmured gently to the boy. Circling the room, Brice clapped his hand on Angus's shoulder.

"I'll ponder your offer and give you an answer on the morrow."

"What of the girl?" Holden asked.

"Aye, the girl." Brice tried not to think about the way he'd felt when they had touched. The mere thought of it brought a rush of heat.

He shrugged.

"I'll think on that as well." He crossed the room, then paused on the stairs.

The hounds circled his feet, eager to accompany him to his room.

"fray she's asleep," Brice muttered.

"I'm near exhausted. All I want is a chance to rest this tired body."

"Aye." Angus followed him up the stairs and turned toward his rooms on the far end of the hall.

"It's been too many hours since last we slept. I will see you on the morrow."

"You are both fools," Holden hissed.

"Do you not know what to do with a warm, soft woman's body on a night such as this?"

Brice turned on him with a look of fury.

"Do not talk so about a Scotswoman. Especially in front of the lad."

"I've heard such talk in the stables."

"But not in this house."

"Think of her as the spoils of war," Holden said with a sly smile.

"And enjoy this gift you've been given."

"We'll talk no more of it." Brice's tone was low and commanding. '

"Until I decide what to do with the woman, she is to be treated with civility."

"Aye." Holden laughed.

"I will be most civil with Lady Meredith MacAlpin."

Brice recognized the sarcasm in Holden's tone but was too weary to argue further. With a lift of his hand he dismissed his friends and made his way to his chambers.

Meredith heard the door close and was instantly alert. She listened to the slight shuffling sound as Brice crossed the room. She heard the occasional scratch of dogs' paws as they walked to the fireplace and settled down for the night.

The dogs. She had not planned for the dogs to be in the room.

Brice tossed another log on the fire and the flames danced and leaped as they licked at the dry bark. The room was suddenly bright from the glow of the fire.

At the foot of the bed Brice removed his tunic and s.h.i.+rt and she heard them whisper through the air as he tossed them on a nearby chair. The pallet sagged as he sat and tugged off his brogues.

When he pulled down the linens her heart began a wild hammering. Was the man actually going to sleep in the same bed with her? She had thought, nay, hoped, that he would be gentleman enough to sleep on the settle across the room.

The dagger in her hand was damp and slippery.

She was wearing only a sheer night s.h.i.+ft, which Cara had brought earlier. Her gossamer gown and kid slippers had been taken away at Cara's insistence. On the morrow they would be clean and ready for their mistress. But their mistress, Meredith thought with a smile, would be miles from here. She would borrow a cloak and boots from Brice Campbell's wardrobe.

Patience, she counseled herself. Despite these unexpected changes in her plans, the dogs, the man in bed beside her, she must bide her time.

She must wait, pretending to be asleep, until Brice Campbell relaxed his guard. If he had any warning, all would be lost.

From the warmth of his breath on her cheek she knew that he was facing her. She dared not chance a look at him. If his eyes were focused on her, he might detect the slight nickering of her lids. She would have to wait until the fire burned low and his breathing became even.

Her lids were heavy. Her body begged for the blessed release of sleep.

But though the urge to sleep was nearly overpowering, she resisted. Her only chance to escape would be to plunge the dagger into Brice Campbell's heart and disappear into the dense Highland forests.

He s.h.i.+fted slightly and his thigh came into contact with hers. She lay perfectly still, willing herself not to move.

How strange to be lying, not in her marriage bed, but in the bed of a brute who had taken her captive. How warm his flesh where it pressed hers. The thought left her shaken. She must not allow herself to think of him as a man. He was a cruel savage, who would rue the day he had tangled with a MacAlpin.

He sighed and moved a foot. Before she could recover her wits he brought his foot down, dragging the fur coverings from both of them.

From beneath veiled lashes she chanced a quick look around. The dagger was clearly visible if he would but open his eyes. She held herself rigid, afraid to breathe, afraid even to swallow. By the light of the fire the dagger's blade glinted ominously. There was no place to hide it.

He moaned and dropped an arm about her waist. Her gaze flew to his face. His eyes were tightly closed. Gathering courage, she allowed her gaze to scan him.