Gillian blushed and looked at her sister. “Who says I’m waiting for anyone?”
“I do. I know that look, though I’ve not seen it onyourface before. You’re pining for a man.”
Gillian tried smiling, tilting her head, looking at Meggie as if she was daft, the way her other sisters might have done, but Meggie sent her a level look. “Out with it, Gilly MacLeod.”
Gillian looked at the track again, but it was still empty. She took a breath.
“He isn’t—” She paused. “He isn’t someone Papa will like.”
“Why not? Is he poor, or ill-favored, or from an enemy clan?”
Gillian hesitated. “Worse,” she whispered.
Meggie laughed. “Worse! Why he’d have to be a Sasse—” She stopped and gasped. “Oh, Gilly, he’s not, is he? Where on earth did you meet a Sassenach?” Then she gasped again, and her blue eyes widened even farther, till Gillian feared they’d fall right out of her head. “English John. It’s English John, isn’t it? You met him at Carraig Brigh!” She made it sound like an accusation. “I remember him from when I was there before Fia wed Dair. He’s charming, and handsome, but he’s—” Her mouth moved as she struggled for the words. “He’s English, and he’s arogue,Gilly.” She gripped Gillian’s hand. “Did he—did heseduceyou?”
A hot blush moved up from the soles of Gillian’s feet, over her body to the top of her head. “Not exactly.”
“What exactly then?”
“I believe I seduced him.”
“You what?” Meggie’s screech echoed off the top of the tower, skipped across the surface of the loch, and made the trees in the wood sway. She began to curse John Erly and all Englishmen, and then men in general after that. She paced in a small, angry circle while Gillian watched. The men camped below looked up to see what the fuss was about. In a moment, they’d start cheering again if she didn’t do something.
“I love him,” she said when her sister took a breath.
The next oath died on Meggie’s lips.
“I told Sir Douglas I could not marry him because I loved someone else. I meant John. And I know John loves me, but he thinks he’s not good enough.” She raised her chin. “I told him that I was going home to give him a chance to decide if he wants me. I told him I’d wait.”
“Wait? For how long?” Meggie asked. “Gilly—what if he doesn’t come?”
Gillian felt tears sting her eyes. “It’s his choice,” she said. “His alone.” Then the tears spilled, and she sobbed. “He must come! I cannot bear to live without him. He’s all I think about, all I want. I don’t care if he’s English, or if he’s disowned or poor. I love him, and that’s fortune enough. I told him I would wait. I thought—Oh, Meggie, I thought he’d be here by now. How longshouldI wait?”
Meggie considered. “With three handsome men downstairs wanting to marry you? I don’t think you have very long, Gilly. Papa will expect you to choose a husband, and soon. He’d never force you, but he will eventually insist on knowing why you jilted Sir Douglas and won’t consider anyone else.”
Gillian silently studied her hands, and Meggie sighed and handed her a handkerchief.
“Dry your tears. Give John another day or two, perhaps. We’ll keep your lairds busy till then.” Gillian nodded, grateful.
Meggie touched her shoulder. “Just don’t wait forever for a lost cause. Take the chance to be happy. Who’s your second choice?”
