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falsely hearty. “Come, now. Your kinsman from long ago abducted the beauty who wed one of my forebears—and on the night they were wed! ’Tis only fitting that a Munro should at last be abducted by a MacKay, is it not?”
    He referred to the feud. “It was a Munro bride who was abducted by your kinsman,” she informed him heatedly, “not a MacKay bride!” She knew it was so, for she’d oft heard the tale when she was young. The poor woman had been utterly shamed. She’d taken her own life rather than return to her newly wed husband soiled by another man. Since then, the feud had boiled over with the slightest provocation. There had been disputes over boundaries, over land and water and thieving. There had been periods of outright war, and the occasional truce and time of peace as well. Would the death of his brothers—and her abduction—stir the furies anew?
    “I know the truth. ’Twas a MacKay bride who was taken. But I wonder…will you kill yourself as she did?”
    Meredith straightened her spine. “Is that what you’re hoping?” she snapped.
    An arrogant brow cocked high. He laughed, and made no answer.
    A simmering heat sputtered within her, then grew with every second. Somewhere deep inside, she realized she was angry. The feeling was unfamiliar, for it had been a long, long time since she’d felt thisway—at Connyridge, such emotion was frowned upon.
    “I will not give you the satisfaction!” she said stiffly.
    “Is that why? You spoke of mortal sin—’tis a state your clan knows much of. But indeed, it takes great courage to take one’s life. Do you have it, I wonder?”
    Courage. In truth, she had none, or she might have told Papa about that horrible, unforgettable night…But it would remain forever hers, a secret locked tight within her soul.
    Yet something within her would not let him triumph so easily. Her chin tipped high. “And what of your clan?” She tipped her head toward Egan and Finn, who now lay sprawled on each side of the fire, snoring loudly. “Your clansmen spoke of the frailties of those who carry Munro blood. But ’twould seem I must be a fearsome woman indeed, that it took three MacKay clansmen to subdue one Munro woman.” She made a sound of utter disgust. “And you speak to me of courage! You are naught but a coward!”
    She should have known she would regret her rashly spoken taunt…and indeed, in an instant, she did.
    He moved with the swiftness of one who was accustomed to relying upon agility to save both life and limb—and succeeded. There was no time to protest, to even draw breath, before she was caught squarely in the vise of his arms, tumbled to the ground at her back. She dared not fight—she dared not move…as if she even could! All she could feel was the heavy breadth of his chest, the immense width of his shoulders above her, dwarfing her own.
    Eyes the color of storm clouds moved slowly over her features. “Tell me, Meredith. Do you look warily upon me now?”
    Aye , she nearly blurted. Her gaze shifted, lest her expression betray her. Despite the weight of his body above her own, the rebellion within her would not be vanquished.
    “Why should I?” Daringly she spoke, though inside she was a mass of quivering pudding. Beneath her scorn was an endless, dragging fear.
    His slow smile sent a tremor all through her. “Because I am stronger than you, lass.”
    Lass . She shuddered, for upon this man’s lips, it sounded like a curse from the devil himself. Oh, aye, she knew what he thought of her.
    He hated her, with every fiber of his being.
    There was an air of expectancy about him, as if he awaited her challenge. None was forthcoming, for in truth Meredith was aghast at all she had dared already speak.
    At length he released her. Meredith let out an uneven breath, relieved when he arose and started toward the horses. Though she strained to see, ’twas impossible; the night was dark and moonless, and it was as if the shadows had swallowed him