CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
John stood behind the iron bars of his cell and watched a cloaked woman hurry down the steep stone steps. For a moment, he thought—hoped—it was Gillian, but when she pushed back the hood, Meggie MacLeod’s blond curls appeared.
She grinned at him. “I never thought I’d see you here at Glen Iolair, English John,” she said. “Yet here you are, wanting to marry Gillian. Someday, when there’s time, you must tell me the whole tale, because—well, you know how shy Gillian is.”
“Is she—safe?” he asked.
“From my father? Of course. He just needs a wee bit of time to get used to the idea of—” She shrugged. “I hope you know you’re a lucky man, John Erly.”
“Am I?” he asked.
“I have news.”
He tightened his grip on the bars, even as he forced a grin. “Of what, my execution?”
She sent him a sharp look. “Will you give up so easily? We’ve come up with a plan—well, Gilly did. There’s to be a contest.”
“A contest?” John stared at Meggie.
“A contest,” Meggie repeated. “The prize is Gilly herself. She’ll wed the winner. It was her idea, so you can prove to Papa you’re worthy of her.” She shook her head. “We used to think Gilly wasn’t clever, mostly because she hardly ever said anything to prove that she was. But while we were chattering like puffins and gulls, Gilly was thinking. Turns out she might just be the smartest one of all of us.”
John smiled softly. “I knew that.”
Meggie tilted her head. “Oh, and how did you know it? You only spent ten days with her on the way to Edinburgh, and in the company of five of my father’s best men.”
“She was very brave.”And passionate and fierce, and—
Meggie’s brows rose. “Then the stories about Gillian and the outlaws are true?”
John paced the confines of his cell. “Mostly. I got her away from the attack on the road, but they caught us. They knocked me out, and when I woke, she’d bested the thieves. Five men.”
Meggie’s eyes widened. “Did she—did she kill anyone? Was she . . . ?”
“No. She outwitted them. The outlaws themselves and Davy MacKenzie’s men did any killing that was done. Davy told us they hanged them. Gillian wasn’t there for that.” He met her eyes. “If not for Gillian, we’d both be dead.”
“Is that why you love her?”
“It’s only part of it.”
“I see,” she said.
He scanned her face. “Do you? Tell me why your father betrothed her to a man like Sir Douglas MacKinnon.”
She flushed slightly and looked at her hands. “It—it seemed like the only proposal Gilly was ever likely to get. Papa thought—well, we all thought—that she’d prefer a safe, quiet life. No one expected she’d find outlaws, adventures, and . . . well, you—and want that instead.” She looked up at him. “Are you very sure, John Erly, that she’s the one for you? I remember you had a certain reputation at Carraig Brigh for flirtation and seduction. Gilly is so innocent. If you break her heart, it won’t be Papa who cuts your faithless heart out or chops off your—”
“I love her, Meggie.”
“Can you win?”
For her, he felt capable of anything, any heroic deed. She believed it too. With the contest, Gillian was giving him a chance to prove to others what she already knew—he wasn’t just an outcast or a rogue. He was as brave and skilled as any man, and worthy of her father’s respect. “I’ll accept any challenge.”
Meggie smiled approvingly. “I always knew you were a good man, English John—well, I had a strong suspicion about it. My sister’s a lucky lass. Papa has confined Gilly to her room, but we’ll find a way to bring her to you.”
He felt longing rise in his breast for that and nodded his thanks.
She started up the stairs and paused to look back at him fiercely.
“Win her, John. Don’t lose.” And then she was gone.
