CHAPTER THIRTY
It was nearly dawn when Callum and Meggie brought Gillian to the dungeon. Gillian rushed across to him and curled her hands around his where he gripped the bars. She looked at him silently, her heart in her eyes. She didn’t need to say a word—he could read her love for him, her joy that he’d come, in her eyes. He squeezed her hands.
Callum stood close behind her, his arms folded over his broad chest as he regarded John coolly. “Gilly said ye’d come. I didn’t believe it.”
“Thank you for your help,” John said, but the Highlander held up his hand.
“Nay, don’t thank me. I haven’t decided if I’m glad ye’re here or not yet. I’m Donal MacLeod’s man, and I’m here to protect Gillian. I’ll not be letting ye out of my sight or opening this door.”
Gillian stood silently, her hair a copper flame in the light of the pine torch that hung on the wall. She sent a pleading glance to Meggie, and Meggie took Callum’s arm, drew him back a few steps. She winked at John.
“You came,” Gillian whispered. He drew her fingers between the bars, kissed them. Desire flared in her eyes, and she bit her bottom lip, and the familiar gesture drove him wild.
“There’s going to be a contest,” Gillian said.
“I know.” The scent of her surrounded him, even here in the damp dungeon with bars between them.
“Papa has insisted on setting the challenges himself,” Gillian said. “He’ll choose the ones the Scots can win.”
“We could—assist—you,” Meggie said. “Find a way to—“
Callum made a low sound of disapproval in his throat, and Meggie glared at him. “Not you. AsGillian’s sisters—we are willing—nay, determined—to see that Gillian gets her heart’s desire D’you understand, John?”
John let go of Gillian and frowned. “Aye, I do—you expect me to cheat.”
“John would never cheat,” Gillian said quickly. “He’s a man of honor.” He looked at her and she smiled. “I told you that Iknowyou, John Erly.”
He met the love in her eyes, the utter certainty that he’d win. It made him feel like he could move mountains, wrestle bears, or swim across the sea and back, if that was the challenge set for him.
“But these areHighlandcontests, not English ones,” Meggie insisted. “Papa will ask the impossible. You want to win, don’t you? No one would know . . .”
John felt anger flare. “I’dknow, Meggie.”
Callum gave a grunt of approval.
“What if the MacKenzie wins, or Robertson?” Meggie asked. “You’re honor bound to wed the winner, Gilly.”
“Aye,” Gillian said softly. “So Johnmustwin.” He read determination in her green eyes. “You will, won’t you?”
“What’s the first challenge?” John asked, touching her cheek. Her skin was so soft . . .
“We don’t know yet. The laird will announce it tomorrow,” Callum said.
“Papa’s thinking,” Meggie said, pacing the floor outside the cell anxiously. “As much as we want you to win, he’s determined to see you lose.”
Callum laughed. “If Donal MacLeod, or any man alive, can outplot ye and your sisters, I’d be very surprised. Still, a Sassenach against Scots . . .” He sighed and shook his head.
Gillian looked at Callum and her sister. “I’d like a few minutes alone with John,” she said firmly.
Callum’s smile faded and he bristled. “Alone?”
“There are solid iron bars between us.”
Meggie grabbed his arm. “Have a heart, Callum. We’ll stroll along this gloomy corridor to the end and talk about the weather.”
Callum let Meggie drag him away, but he frowned at John over his shoulder as he went. “We’ll be within earshot,” he warned.
Gillian leaned up on her toes and kissed him between the iron bars. He wrapped his arms around her, held her as close as he was able with the metal between them, and breathed her in.
