Perfect Strangers (The Scots)

Colin's gaze shifted dismissively, fixing on a point just past her shoulder. "Are ye sure 'tis the right lass ye're giving me, Johnny? Except for her green eyes and the... er, stockiness of her build, she doesn't look like any Maxwell I've e'er laid eyes on."

"Aye, and well I ken it," Johnny replied. It grated on her nerves the way the older man sounded so proud of that fact "Howe'er, ye need remember that a goodly dose of Sassenach blood o'er the decades has diluted her fine Maxwell lineage."

"'Tis the lass Queen Elizabeth sent to wed ye," Gordie Maxwell interjected. "Dinny doubt it, mon."

Roy nodded his shaggy red head in agreement and added gruffly, "Aye, that she is. With me own twa eyes, I saw her laying naked as the day she was born in yer brother's arms. If that doesn't prove she's Gabrielle Carelton, nothing can."

A muscle twitched in the base of Colin's jaw. That and the darkening of his stormy gray eyes were his only outward reactions to Roy's admission. It was enough to make Gabrielle shift uneasily. Was her imagination running away with her, or could she really sense a swirl of anger churning just beneath Colin Douglas's outwardly placid surface?

Without warning, Colin reached out and coiled his fingers around her upper arm. His grip was bitingly tight. Gabrielle gasped sharply and winced. She tried to wrench her arm free, but quickly gave up when she was rewarded by a still tighter squeeze from his thick, powerful fingers.

"I thank ye for the help, Maxwell," Colin said, and nodded briskly at Johnny Maxwell. "Now that our business is concluded, I bid ye good day."

That said, Colin turned on his heel and, yanking Gabrielle in step beside him, headed toward the arched stone doorway leading out of the great hall. His bootheels echoed crisply atop the bare stone floor.

Gabrielle's spirits plummeted with each forced step that led closer to her departure from Caerlaverock. Her thoughts whirlwinded helplessly.

Connor was being held prisoner somewhere within these thick stone walls; if she allowed herself to be taken away, how could she ever hope to find him and set him free? Not that she stood a chance of being able to accomplish such a feat, she knew. How could she forget what had happened when she attempted much the same thing for Mairghread! Still, at least while she was being held under the same roof, she stood a chance, no matter how slim, of being able to liberate him. Away from Caerlaverock, she could do naught.

And what of Ella?

Gabrielle could not in all good conscience allow the girl to remain a prisoner of the dreaded Maxwell if she could in some way prevent it. Heaven alone knew what these ruffians would do to such a comely lass, especially a girl who was so close a relation to their arch rival, The Black Douglas.

Sweet Lord, she had to do something, anything, and do it quickly. But what?

The question had no more entered Gabrielle's mind when they reached the threshold. She wasn't a bit closer to coming up with an answer when she heard a harsh rumble echo out from behind. It was the sound of Johnny Maxwell clearing his throat.

The guards standing in wait outside the doorway stepped forward, blocking the exit.

Colin hauled Gabrielle to an abrupt stop.

The two guards who'd been posted there earlier had been joined by ten more. All had swords drawn, the sharp steel points aimed with deadly precision at various parts of Colin Douglas's anatomy. Gabrielle hadn't a doubt that at Johnny Maxwell's command they would not hesitate to use those weapons to slice both her and Colin Douglas to ribbons.

Colin let go of her arm and spun around to face his adversary.

Gabrielle seized the opportunity to take a few shaky steps away from the furious man. She didn't go far—she didn't dare, for she was very much aware of Gordie Maxwell's watchful eye on her—but she was careful to move far enough to the side as to be out of Colin's reach.

She felt the wall come up against her back, cold, hard stone grinding against her skin even through the tunic, and she sagged against it gratefully. Her knees were shaking so right now that they could not have held her upright for much longer without the support.

Colin, Gabrielle noticed only now that she was safely out of his reach, seemed ready to explode with fury. His complexion was ruddy, his eyes narrow and spitting hot gray fire as his gaze locked on Johnny Maxwell. If looks could kill, the older man would be sucking in his last breath.

"What is the meaning of this, Maxwell? Or did ye forget, we had a deal."

"Aye," Johnny said evenly. "A deal made and met. Och! I can tell from ye expression that ye've forgotten exactly what the deal was." He stroked his gray-streaked beard and shook his head. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Let me be reminding ye, lad. I agreed to get ye the Lady Gabrielle in return for a hefty sum of coins. As ye can see—" he hefted a thick, calloused thumb in Gabrielle's direction "?

?get the lass, I did. And that pouch Roy is holding proves ye've upheld yer end and paid dearly for the service. 'Tis where our deal begins and ends. Leaving Caerlaverock... och! well, the matter was ne'er discussed, therefore it can't be part of our deal."

Everything happened at once.

Colin made to lunge for Johnny Maxwell.

The men at the table sprang to their feet, the bench toppling loudly to the floor behind them. Steel hissed against steel as swords were drawn hastily from scabbards. Bootheels scuffed atop stone as they rushed to Johnny's defense.

They needn't have bothered.

The guards barring the door were well trained; they reacted instantly. In the blink of an eye, they surrounded Colin, cutting off his access to Johnny as well as any available route of escape.

The largest of the bunch grunted something in Gaelic. To Gabrielle's untutored ear, the words sounded like gibberish, yet in tone resembled a dare.