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"Since you have not been seen, he and his men are convinced that you perished in the Highland forests." His voice softened when he saw the pain that crossed her features.
"By declaring you officially dead, your next of kin will become the leader of your people."
"My next of kin."
Alston stepped past her with a bow.
"My pardon, my lady. I must report my findings to Brice."
As he strode down the long hall, Meredith suddenly leaned against the heavy door as the realization sank in. Her next of kin was her sister, sixteen-year-old Brenna. Sweet, shy Brenna. She would be no match against the charms of Gareth MacKenzie. He would convince her, as he had once convinced Meredith, that they must combine their land and forces if they would stand against the unseen Highland monsters who attacked in the night. The MacAlpins, old Duncan and his wife Mary, as well as all the others, would be so weary of the killings, they would urge poor Brenna to accept Gareth's offer and unite their people against a common enemy. And once wed, Gareth would claim Brenna's land and easily dispose of her, should she prove to be a burden.
And what of the youngest, Megan? Impulsive, headstrong Megan. Would the same fate befall her in time?
Meredith felt a sense of horror and revulsion. She s.h.i.+vered and realized that her hands were as cold as ice. While she was safely ensconced in the Highlands, secure in Brice's love, her little sisters were in grave peril.
Her first thought was to run tearfully to Brice and plead with him to go to their a.s.sistance. Then she recalled the extreme hatred Gareth nurtured for Brice. For now, Brice was safe only because Gareth thought him dead. As long as Brice stayed in his Highland forest, he could not be harmed.
The same was true for her. But there was a difference. This was her personal battle. She could not possibly stay here, safe and warm, while her family was in grave danger. She must show herself to her people. And she must unmask Gareth MacKenzie as the lying murderer she knew him to be.
The MacAlpins would rally round her. Though it would be a b.l.o.o.d.y battle, they were warriors. Had they not held back the English invaders along the Border for centuries?
The decision was made instantly, with no thought to her own peril.
She would return to the Lowlands. She would a.s.semble her people. They would drive Gareth MacKenzie from their land and wrest back control of their own destinies.
With quick strides she hurried to Brice's chambers. Before he returned from his inspection of the great hall, she had much to prepare.
Brice was in a festive mood. The work in the great hall was moving swiftly. In no time it would be restored to its former elegance. Even now, as the charred beams were replaced, and the windows scrubbed of smoke and soot, carpenters labored to make new settles, tables and chairs. Hunters returned with animal hides to replace the ones that had gone up in smoke. And although many of the tapestries had been burned beyond repair, the women of the clan had already begun work on new ones, depicting the Campbell ancestors, their victories, their lineage. These new ones, Mistress Snow had informed him, would also include his own life history, and any wife and children to follow.
So they knew, he thought with a smile. The entire household knew that he and Meredith were lovers. And if the household staff knew, and his men knew, then the entire clan, sequestered in the surrounding forests, had been informed as well.
That thought pleased him. He wanted everyone to know that he loved Meredith MacAlpin. He wanted his friends to rejoice with him. And as soon as the work on the great hall was completed, they would join him in a feast to celebrate his marriage to the beautiful Meredith.
He was also pleased by the news Alston had brought this day. If Gareth MacKenzie believed that Meredith was dead, she would be safe from any further attempts on her life. At least, he reasoned, until such time as she proved to the Lowlanders that she was indeed alive.
It would take time for Gareth to travel to Holyroodhouse and seek an audience with the queen. By that time Brice and Meredith would be wed.
Together they would lead his men to the Lowlands to secure Meredith's birthright. By the sheer numbers of MacAlpin and Campbell soldiers, they would thwart any further attempt by Gareth MacKenzie to take by force what was not his.
Peace. Love. Brice had never dared hope that either would be experienced in his lifetime. And now both were within his grasp.
He gave Mistress Snow his request for a very special meal, then made his way to his chambers. Tonight, if the time proved right, he would reveal his plans to her. And he would ask her hand in marriage.
Meredith looked up from the wardrobe. On her cheeks were two bright spots of color. When she saw him she gave a little cry and ran to his arms.
The kiss she gave him sent his pulse rate soaring.
"Firebrand," he murmured against her lips.
"Have you missed me so much?"
"Aye."
He marveled at the way she clung to him, as if they had been apart for days instead of mere hours.
Leading him to a long covered bench pulled up in front of the fire, she curled up beside him, still clinging to him as if to a lifeline.
"Do you know how much I love you?"
"Not nearly as much as I love you, my lady. I would die for you," he murmured against her temple.
Instantly she touched a finger to his lips to silence him.
"Never say that again. I do not wish you dead, my lord. Not even for me."
"But what good would it do to live if you were not here to live with me?"
"You are important to your people," she said, pulling away slightly.
"So many people depend upon you. You have a duty to be here for them."
"And so I shall, little firebrand." He pulled her into his arms and rained kisses across her forehead.
"We shall both be here for them." He kissed the tip of her nose.
"And we will spend our days having wee baims and taking them for picnics in the forest." He pressed a kiss to her lips.
His words tormented her. She allowed herself to savor the kiss for long moments before whispering,
"Such a lovely dream, my lord."
"It is no dream. We shall live it. We shall have it all."
"Oh, Brice. If only it could be." With tears burning her eyes she wound her arms around his neck and clung to him, burying her face against his throat.
"Trust me," he murmured against her temple.
"There is so much I want to tell you. So much I want to share with you."
"Hush, my lord." She blinked away the tears and drew his face down for her kiss.
"Not now. I cannot bear to hear mere words. Show me."
With a tenderness he had never known before, he lifted her in his arms and set her on the fur throw spread before the fire.
As he reached for the b.u.t.tons of her gown, she caught his hand and stared up into his eyes.
"I want you to know this," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
"No matter what happens, I love you, Brice Campbell. For all time. And wherever I am, you are there with me."