Highland Warrior Read Free Page B

alone to think, Ross made his way to the solar and sank into a chair before the hearth, trying to make sense out of Gizela’s words. Why should he fear the flame? Unless ... Did someone intend to burn Ravenscraig Tower? The MacKay? Nay, that could not be. Gizela said he shouldn’t fear the flame.
    Ross’s thoughts were still engaged when Seana entered the chamber without knocking, wearing naught but a bed robe. “After I learned Murdoc MacKay had visited, I thought you might have need of comfort,” she cooed.
    Ross grinned at his leman. Seana was exactly what he did need tonight, although any woman would have sufficed. He held out his hand to her. Hips swaying, she strolled over to him and placed her dainty hand in his. Ross rose and led her to his bed. Coyly, she dropped her robe and arrayed herself on the furs.
    Ross stared at the lush charms he knew so well and quickly shed his tunic and hose. He knew the moment he joined her on the furs that something was wrong.
    Even as he bent his head and suckled her nipple, he saw flames shooting up around him, engulfing the bed. He leaped up, seeking the source of the fire.
    “Ross! What ails you? Have I offended you in some way?”
    “Did you not see it?” Ross asked, shaking his head in wonder.
    Seana glanced around, her eyes wide and frightened. “See what?”
    “Flames. They surrounded us.”
    “I saw naught. Mayhap you saw the fire in the grate.”
    Ross glanced over his shoulder. “Nay, I ... Forget it. Leave me, Seana.”
    Seana reached for him, trying to tug him back into bed, but Ross was as immovable as a stone wall. “Go away, Seana, I need to think.”
    “You need to think of naught but me, Ross. Come to bed. Let me ease you.”
    “Another time,” Ross said as he walked to the hearth and stared into the dying flames.
    Huffing indignantly, Seana launched herself from the bed, picked up her robe from the floor, and stormed out, naked as the day she was born. Ross neither noticed nor cared.
    Ross subsided onto a bench, wondering why Gizela’s words had unsettled him to such a degree. Clearly there were no flames, and his bed was not on fire. The only flames were in the hearth, right where they should be. Abruptly his mind carried him back to the recent clash with Clan MacKay and the flame-haired woman who had challenged him on the battlefield. Never had he seen a more aggressive fighter, except for himself, of course.
    The woman had to be mad to challenge him in bat-tie when she had no hope of winning. At least her father had had sense enough to drag her away, and Ross had let them go. His honor would not allow him to kill a woman, not even a MacKay woman. For some unexplained reason, he could not forget that vision of the woman’s long red hair flowing behind her like a silken flame as she flew at him.
    Flame.
    Living flame. Could it be? Nay ...
    He shuddered and turned his mind to his meeting with the MacKay.

St . Tears Chapel
     
    The MacKay had arrived first and awaited him beneath the spreading branches of a linden tree. Ross entered the churchyard cautiously, just as the church bells pealed noon. True to his word, the MacKay had brought five men with him. Tearlach MacKay dismounted and waited for Ross to do the same.
    “Shall we go inside?” MacKay invited.
    Ross nodded to his cousin Niall. Niall dismounted, drew his sword, and entered the chapel. He returned shortly. “ ’Tis no trap, Ross.”
    “Verra well, MacKay, lead the way,” Ross said, gesturing toward the chapel.
    A black-clad, rotund priest with tonsured hair, his arms crossed over his barrel chest, greeted them at the doorway. “You must leave your weapons at the door if you wish to enter the house of God.”
    At first Ross was reluctant, but when MacKay unbuckled his belt and let his sword fall, he did the same. Nevertheless, he waited until his enemy had entered the chapel before he followed.
    Satisfied, the priest shuffled off, disappearing behind the altar. MacKay led the way to