Highland Barbarian Part 26

Jamie shook his head slowly.

"I no longer remember it, my lady. I was but a babe when my father and I came here."

"Do you not feel disloyal to your clan when you swear allegiance to a Highlander?"

Jamie stood and crossed to the window where he stared in silence for several minutes. When at last he spoke, his voice was as soft as a night breeze.

"I know that it could have been Brice's arrow that slew my father.

And I know here," he said, touching a finger to his temple, "that I should avenge my father's death. But here," he said, touching a hand to his heart,

"I know only that Brice gave me shelter when I had none. He gave me food and clothing, and has taught me to read, to chart the stars, to ride and handle a weapon like a warrior. When he scolds me, I know it is because he expects me to grow to be a man of honor. And when he praises me, my heart swells with pride. Though I am a MacDonald from the Lowlands, Brice Campbell is my father now. I would do nothing to dishonor him."

With a lump in her throat Meredith crossed the room and touched a hand to Jamie's shoulder.

"I have a little sister," she said softly, "named Megan. She is near your age. And much like you."

"A sister?" Jamie tried to picture a younger, smaller version of the woman beside him.

"Aye. Two sisters, in fact. Brenna, with dark hair and eyes to match the heather. She is a gentle girl who would never harm a living creature. And Megan," Meredith said with a laugh that bubbled forth just thinking about the child.

"She is fair as the sun and as wild and free as the breezes that blow off the river."

Meredith stared at the darkness beyond the window, knowing that Jamie's loneliness was as acute as her own.

"Sit and tell me about your life here," she said.

He smiled and followed her back to the chair. He couldn't think of any place he would rather be at this moment than right here, in the company of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

They talked and laughed for nearly an hour before looking up at a knock on the door.

Cara entered, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.

"Mistress Snow thought you might be hungry." The serving girl placed the tray on a low table in front of the fire.

"When the men ride to the Borders," Meredith asked softly, "how long do they usually travel?"

"Oh, my lady, it could be days. There's no telling how long they'll stay away this time."

Days. Meredith's heart fell. She glanced at Jamie and saw that he, too, was dismayed. As she poured two cups of tea she had a thought.

"Is there cloth here at Kinloch House? Enough for a gown?"

"Aye, my lady. There is fine cloth in the storehouse."

Meredith smiled suddenly.

"Tomorrow, Cara, after we break our fast, I would like Jamie to show me the storehouse."

"But why, my lady?"

Her smile grew.

"I owe Mistress Snow a gown. There is no better time to start than now."

"And when you tire of sewing," Jamie said with a wide smile,

"I shall be happy to show you the stables. Brice said I can handle the horses as well as any of his men."

"I would like that."

Together Meredith and Jamie pa.s.sed another pleasant hour before they bid good-night. And when at last Meredith drifted off to sleep, she felt more relaxed than she had at any time since her shocking abduction.

The line of mourners stretched around the manor house and up the lane for as far as the eye could see.

An old man, slightly stooped, with a walking stick in his hand, joined the crowd and moved slowly toward the house. A rough, shapeless cloak fell from his shoulders to his ankles. When someone in front of him asked his name, the old man cupped a hand to his ear and strained to understand the question.

"He's likely from the MacKenzie clan," one of the women called from behind him.

"With Gareth MacKenzie spending so much time on MacAlpin land these days, the MacKenzie clansmen are everywhere. So many strangers," she complained.

"There was a time when we knew everyone who pa.s.sed us on the lane."

"What do you expect?" cried a thin youth.

"With old Duncan MacAlpin and two wee la.s.ses the only ones left to lead the clan, the MacKenzies have a free rein in MacAlpin affairs."

"Aye," another responded.

"First Alastair, and then Meredith. Both were born leaders. But the younger la.s.ses have not the heart for it.

And Duncan is a beaten man."

The crowd moved along and the old man struggled to keep up. Those around him, intent upon their gossip, ignored him.

"Some say old Duncan and Mary will never be the same now." A plump woman with a baby at her hip spoke to the crowd.

"Aye. The murder of an only grandson is too hard to bear," said a ruddy-cheeked man.

"Especially since Duncan's son, William and his wife, Margaret, can have no more baims." It was a young, pretty woman speaking. Her coloring was similar to Meredith's, since they were distant cousins.

"Young William was the light of their lives."

"Aye. Especially Duncan's. He doted on the lad. He and Mary had depended upon young William to help with the ch.o.r.es." An old woman lowered her voice slightly as she addressed those around her.

"Gareth MacKenzie himself witnessed the murder of poor William. When he tried to stop them from beating the lad, he took a dirk in the arm from one of them."

"Something must be done to stop the killing."