"It's darker than the dungeon in here."
Keeping his hands on her waist, he followed. "Mind the steps. Some are higher."
"And I can't even see them." The darned things varied in height, from about six inches to a foot. They also felt well-worn, with a dip in the center. "Your builder had a twisted sense of humor."
"'Twas two hundred years before my time."
Done with the obstacle course, she paused at the top of the stairs in the murky corridor. "Why didn't we bring a candle?"
He stepped out beside her. "You'll learn the castle so well you can navigate it in near darkness."
She scowled, not looking forward to that. Besides, she might not be here long. "Why did we come up here?"
"I want you to meet my father." Gavin pulled her hand around his elbow and escorted her along the hallway.
"You have a father?"
"Of course. Everyone does, whether they ken them or not." His tone implied she lacked intelligence.
She rolled her eyes. "I meantstill living."
"Aye, thankfully."
"Then how are you the laird?"
"He ceded the title to me last year. You'll see why. Wait here until I see if he's awake and decent." Gavin slipped inside the room, leaving the thick, metal-studded wooden door cracked. A glimmer of candlelight escaped. If she stayed here long, she would need a topnotch lantern. She had never feared the dark, but she hadn't explored this castle yet, either. She had no clue what the shadows concealed.
A moment later, the door opened wide, and Gavin motioned her in.
Faint candlelight and a small fire in the hearth illuminated the ornate four-poster bed in one corner. A weak moan emanated from within the bed curtains.
She peered inside but could barely see the man lying on his back beneath the covers, his face turned away and his long grayish-white hair mussed.
"What happened to him?" Dani whispered.
"Madness." Gavin's deep voice faltered at the word, and the anguish in his soulful eyes caught at her heart.
She observed his father for a few seconds, wondering what diagnosis a twenty-first-century psychiatrist would pin on him. Schizophrenia? Psychosis?
"How long has he been like this?"
"Since last year. He's the main reason I yearn for an end to the curse. 'Haps then Da would regain his senses and his good health."
The man on the bed whipped his head toward them. Startled, she jumped. His sharp, blue-eyed gaze speared hers without a hint of lucidity.
"'Tis her," the older man whispered, his breathing harsh and picking up speed. "'Tis her, Gavin! She's the one."
"Aye, Da. I thought as much."
Dani retreated behind Gavin and peeped out, which wasn't like her at all. But what if Gavin's father leapt from the bed and grabbed her? Everything here freaked her out, especially the people.
"'Tis all right." Gavin reached back for her hand, then took it in his warm one. "He means nay harm."
Getting herself under control, she forced her legs to move until she stood beside Gavin again, still holding his hand.
"Da, this is Dani MacRae. Dani, Lunn MacTavish."
"Pleased to meet you, sir." She started to bow, then tried to curtsy, which she had never done in her life. She almost lost her balance and toppled over, but Gavin righted her in time.
