A few seconds later, he burst through the door, his huge bicep pushing it open effortlessly, where Leah had had to use her whole weight to shift the heavy oak.
“Forgive me,” MacWatt muttered, looking startled to see her waiting for him. “I didnae ken ye were already here.”
He walked to the table in two large strides. He had changed into a fresh léine beneath his jacket, perhaps with some speed. He had forgotten to tie the collar of his shirt, and Leah was granted the opportunity of admiring a large triangle of skin.
His chest was muscular and broad, just as she had imagined it to be, and the soft glow of the firelight highlighted the lines of his muscles as he drew his chair up behind him.
He waved the servants away impatiently, picking several pieces of meat, cheese, and bread from his plate and nodding at her.
“Are ye nae hungry?” he asked gruffly as the servants filed out of the room.
She sniffed. “Where I come from, a lady does not begin to eat until her host is present.”
“Well, he is present now,” MacWatt said, taking a huge bite of the chunk of bread in his hand.
Leah frowned at his dismissive tone, but her stomach was growling, so she picked up her knife and fork. She tried to avoid eating meat whenever possible—she could not bear the idea of an animal dying to fill her stomach—so she placed several pieces of cheese and bread on her plate, eating delicately and slowly, just as she had been taught to do.
However, it was difficult not to stare at the barbarian tearing off great chunks of roast chicken with his bare hands at the other end of the table.
The food was excellent, and she immediately felt revived by the salty sweet cheese and bread that she consumed. She took a small sip of the red wine that had been poured for her and raised her eyebrows.
She was not sure what she had expected, but certainly not that MacWatt would have better wine in his cellars than her own father.
She looked up at him to comment on it, but he was engrossed in his food, and she did not feel he would welcome her opinion on the matter.
The silence stretched on, and finally, Leah asked the question that had been incessantly burning in her mind.
“You said that I owe you,” she stated as he looked up from his plate of meat, his dark eye settling on her.
“Aye, I did,” he replied.
“How am I to repay you?” she asked as her mind went wild with possibilities.
She was sure that if her mother and father could read her thoughts, they would disown her at the images flashing in her head. Something about this man made her want to throw caution to the wind and justfeel.
“All in good time, lass,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Leah cut a piece of cheese on her plate, putting a small square in her mouth as she contemplated his reply. She was disappointed, she realized irritably. She had wanted him to respond quite differently.
What did you expect him to say? That he’ll have his way with you like one of the villains in your stories?
“I should like to write to Daphne and Katie and let them know I am safe,” she said. “Would that be possible?”
He nodded. “Aye.”
That was all he said. Leah waited for him to elaborate or indicate where she might find a quill and paper, but he said nothing more.
“When might I be given the materials to write it?” she hazarded.
“Tomorrow,” he said, dragging some boiled eggs to his plate and biting into one with what appeared to be great relish.
“Do you have any plans for the next two weeks that I should be aware of? Any visitors?”
“Nay.”
“Do you need me to hide away from any relatives you have locked in your dungeons?”
That earned her a stern glare. “Nay.”
