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breath—were effectively cut off as she was turned to face him. His gaze slid over her, then fastened upon the silver crucifix which hung about her neck.
    “Why do you wear that?” he demanded. “You said you’d not yet taken your vows.”
    Meredith winced inwardly. “I have not,” she admitted.
    “You should have taken them long ago. You’ve been at Connyridge long enough. Could it be you are not worthy?”
    He sought to wound her. Meredith knew it and tried not to allow it, yet she couldn’t help it.
    What was it he’d made her write in her letter to the sisters? I am deeply ashamed that I am so weak in devotion and in spirit .
    Was it true? Was that why she had tarried so long in taking her vows? Pain wrenched through her. Confusion roiled within her, confusion that the days past had not erased. Throughout she had prayed for guidance to make the right choice, for direction from above. A voice within cried out. Why had the God she so entrusted forsaken her? Was she being punished for her doubts? She had disappointed Papa, and now the Lord as well.
    She inclined her head. Yet the fervor of her words belied the meekness of her pose. “God alone judges our worthiness—and our worth.”
    For an instant he looked ready to explode. Something raced across his features, an anger she could not begin to comprehend. He stepped close and raised his hand. Fighting back her fear, striving to ignore the power of the fist that hovered so near, Meredith braced herself for a stunning blow…
    It never came. She gasped as warm fingers brushedher skin. In shock she felt her crucifix ripped from about her throat.
    “Do not prescribe to me, woman. ’Twould not take much to convince me that your blood would indeed be blood well shed.” His lips barely moved as he spoke.
    Meredith was shattered but determined not to show it. Mustering all her dignity, she lifted her chin. “I do not preach to you—I simply state my beliefs, for as you have said, I am not worthy. And for now I will entrust my crucifix to your safekeeping”—her gaze skipped to the chain dangling from his fingertips—“but I vow it will soon be back in my possession.”
    His lips compressed. Her heart leaped as he swung the chain and caught the whole of the necklace in his palm. His fingers tightened so that his knuckles showed white. For one awful moment Meredith feared he would fling it high and away and it might truly be forever lost to her.
    His hand disappeared inside his shirt…and the necklace as well. All he said was, “Come. We dally no longer.”
    Meredith’s fingers touched the place where the crucifix dwelled no more. She felt naked without it. But she would have it back, she vowed.
    His low whistle cut through the air. Egan and Finn hurried forward, leading their mounts.
    Panic raced through her. Beside her, she could feel his body—hard as a pillar of stone. The thought of riding with him again made her stomach curdle in dread. She could not do it. She would not!
    She linked her hands before her to still their trembling. “I will come with you, but I will not ride beforeyou on your horse.” She swallowed. “Nor will I ride behind you, or with any of your men.”
    She knew she did not imagine the stiffening of his spine. “You will not ride with me,” he repeated, “either before me or behind me? And you will not ride with Egan or Finn?”
    Meredith shook her head. His tone was almost deadly quiet, yet the hint of a storm brewed in the depths of his eyes.
    Behind him, Finn let out a growl. “By the Rood, woman, you will not dare such insolence—”
    “Be silent, Finn!” Cameron sent his man a glare that was no less blistering.
    “Yet you say you will come with me.”
    Still that disturbingly quiet tone. Though she was filled with trepidation, she held her ground. “Aye,” she heard herself say.
    “Mayhap you should explain.”
    Her heart had begun to race. Vaguely she wondered what madness possessed her, that she should challenge