Samantha James Read Online Free PDF Page A

tore her heart to shreds. He was right—the sisters would send word of her death, and Papa’s grief would know no bounds. He would be devastated, thinking that she was gone. She well remembered her father’s desolation when her mother had fallen ill and died one long-ago winter, though she had been but a child of ten. Aye, she thought bleakly. Cameron MacKay had chosen well, for such news might very well kill her father…
    All too soon they were on their way again. Miserable beyond anything she’d ever known, Meredith scarcely noticed the purple haze of darkness creeping across the hill until they stopped again in a small clearing. As she leaped to the ground, her cramped muscles objected to such effort after the long hours in the saddle. One of Cameron’s men, the bearded one called Finn, heaved a grating laugh as she staggered.
    She righted herself with what dignity she could muster. She ignored him, for now that she was on her feet, she was aware of a most urgent need to attend to. Glancing around, she spied a copse of trees to the edge of the clearing. It was there she directed her steps.
    “Where the devil do you think you’re going?”
    She stopped short. Cameron again, his glare as black as a moonless night. Dismayed and embarrassed, Meredith felt a hot stain of color rush into her cheeks. How was she to explain?
    She drew a deep breath. “I…I fear I must…”
    “What? You’ve a need to piddle?”
    Faith, but the man was crude! Her nod was jerky.
    He stared at her, long and hard. Her gaze cut away, but not before she’d glimpsed the stubborn set of his jaw. A flurry of panic touched her. If he refused, what was she to do?
    “Go, then, but do not tarry.”
    His rudeness was not warranted. By the saints, she would not convey gratitude for such a delicate matter, not when he was so curt. Without a word, she turned her back and moved away.
    “Meredith!”
    Her name was like a clap of thunder.
    Meredith glanced back over her shoulder.
    “Do not run, Meredith! For if you do…” He drew a finger across his throat.
    Meredith felt herself pale. Aware of his gaze stabbing into her back, she picked her way carefully toward the copse. Her feet were bare and the ground was heavy with needles that pricked her soles.
    His warning stirred her mind anew. What would happen to her? she wondered. It was selfish, yet she couldn’t help it. Throughout the afternoon, she’d tried so very hard not to envisage the fate that awaited her! Yet she couldn’t erase the choking fear that he meant her dire harm. After all, he was a MacKay. Ah, but that was laughable, for what could be more dire than death? Bitterly she chastised herself. She should have screamed while she had the chance, no matter the cost to herself. Did it truly matter if she were dead?
    But it did. Sweet Mother Mary, it did. Once she had thought she would rather be dead… once . But no more. Ah, but if the truth be known, she was afraid to die…afraid of everything! Why couldn’t she be strong…strong like…like him?
    Her shoulders slumped. She was but a woman—a pitiful one, at that.
    Her bodily needs attended to, she gazed longingly at the gurgling waters of the shallow stream just beyond the trees. Quickly she moved to the edge of the water and knelt to rinse the dust from her hands andface. It was then a movement caught the corner of her eye—it was Cameron. With her hands curled on her thighs, she leaned back on her knees.
    Quiet as the night, he strode to the stream, paying her no heed. It struck her that she’d never encountered a man so tall—why, she scarcely reached his shoulder! Yet for all his height, his body was leanly sculpted.
    He claimed her gaze and there was naught she could do to stop herself. His hair was dark, the color of a raven’s breast. An odd feeling touched the base of her spine. Last night, she’d been convinced he was grotesque, given the ugliness of his actions—why, to steal a novice from a nunnery was surely a