“Fools! I ye sent to keep her safe.”
“They all fought bravely, including John.” Gillian said. “He’s Dair’s captain. Fia might have picked Angus Mor, or Niall, but she chose John to escort me to Edinburgh because she knew he’d keep me safe.”
“Safe? Safe?” Donal demanded, regarding his daughter. “Ye weren’t safe though, were ye? Saving your life is a matter of honor, his duty. I’d expect no less, even from a Sassenach. But he’s bewitched ye, charmed ye with sweet, worthless words, tricked ye into throwing over an honorable man like Douglas MacKinnon. It’s not true love. It can’t be. He’s after yourtocher, your dowry, and I’ll not have it.”
“A Sassenach is nothing compared to a MacKenzie,” Davy MacKenzie said. “He’s not fit to touch the hem of her gown.”
“I wish to renew my proposal for the lass’s hand,” Cormag Robertson called out.
“And I,” Padraig Grant said.
Their clansmen rose to stand behind their lairds, a show of strength, of power. No one stood with John.
Then Meggie hurried to stand beside him. “She’s been waiting for you,” she whispered.
Other lasses—no doubt more of Gillian’s sisters, joined Meggie, casting appraising looks at him.
With a frown, Callum joined the MacLeod lasses, and so did Tam, and Lachlan, Ewan, and Keir, though they looked like they feared it would be their last act on earth.
Donal surveyed them with sour disapproval. “It’s still no.”
He took Gillian’s arm and firmly propelled her out of the room. No one in the hall spoke. Somewhere in the distance, a door slammed.
The men holding John looked at the lasses and the clansmen who stood with him. “Ye ken we can’t disobey the laird’s command,” one said to Callum.
“Aye.” Callum looked at John. “There’s no help for it. Ye’ve got to go. I’ll do what I can.”
“We’ll do what we can,” Meggie said.
“Just keep Gillian safe,” he said to Callum, and let his captors lead him away.
