My Brave Highlander

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My Brave Highlander Page 31

by Vonda Sinclair


  "What do you mean?" Cyrus demanded.

  "Ask his brother, Nolan MacLeod."

  "What about Nolan?" Torrin asked.

  "He tried to rape Isobel," Dirk said.

  "Why, that bastard," Cyrus growled and looked as if he might slay Torrin on the spot in his brother's stead. "How could you let this happen? I trusted you to take care of my sister."

  "I knew naught of this." Torrin turned and narrowed his eyes at Dirk. "How did you find out?"

  "Did Nolan not tell you she left Munrick in a snowstorm?" Dirk asked.

  "Aye, but he said he didn't know why."

  Dirk snorted. "Well, of course, he doesn't want you to ken he aimed to rape your future wife."

  Torrin frowned, looking mightily troubled and glaring back toward where his men were gathered.

  "Did you bring Nolan with you?" Dirk asked.

  "Aye, the bastard is there, waiting with the others," Cyrus said through clenched teeth. "And I'm going to kill him."

  "Remain calm," Torrin snapped. "We have no proof of this."

  "I don't need proof! If my sister says 'tis so, then it is."

  "We haven't yet had the chance to ask her. Question is… how did MacKay know of all this?" Torrin asked with suspicion, his green eyes narrowed at Dirk.

  "I was traveling through Assynt with a friend to return home. That's when we found Lady Isobel and her maid on the trail. Snow was pouring down hard and the wind was cold. We helped them find shelter for the night, then brought them here to keep them safe until the sea was right for sailing. My plan was to bring her south to you, MacKenzie, on a galley so as to keep her away from Nolan MacLeod." Dirk scowled at Torrin.

  "I'm going to talk to that knave now," Cyrus said, drawing his sword and starting back the way he'd come.

  "I will," Torrin said, following Cyrus. "He's my brother. I'll deal with him." Torrin strode quickly toward the field where two dozen men waited, about half of them the MacKay prisoners who'd escaped, with Haldane in front. All on stolen horses.

  "Hmph." Cyrus returned to stand before the portcullis but glared after Torrin. "If he lets that bastard go…" he said through clenched teeth.

  "Would you care to come inside and talk?" Dirk asked, glad he could speak with Cyrus without Torrin about. "You can see your sister and verify for yourself she is well."

  "I'd like that." Cyrus sheathed his sword.

  "Open the gates for Chief MacKenzie only," Dirk ordered. "No one else."

  He even allowed the MacKenzie to keep his weapons. Surely he wouldn't try anything, outnumbered several dozen to one.

  Upon entering the great hall, they came face to face with Isobel. Seeing her always gave Dirk a jolt of need.

  "Isobel. Saints!" Cyrus pulled her to him for a rough hug, then clasping her shoulders, held her at arms' length and gave her a hard look. "You gave me a fright, disappearing like that. Are you hurt?"

  "Nay, not now. I thank you, brother." Isobel smiled.

  "Not now? What does that mean?" Cyrus demanded. "Were you injured?"

  "Only my finger. Did Chief MacKay tell you what happened?" Isobel's bewitching gaze darted to Dirk and sent his thoughts scattering. He hadn't touched her in several days, and he craved her more each day.

  "Aye, some of it. I want to talk to you both in private. I want to know every detail. This Nolan MacLeod is a whoreson knave."

  "We'll go into the library," Dirk said, motioning for Isobel to precede them.

  She led the way and once the three of them were in the library, Dirk closed the door.

  "How did you know where I was?" Isobel asked her brother as they sat down at the table.

  "While Torrin was in Lairg, his brother, Nolan, apparently sent a messenger telling him that you had disappeared. Torrin immediately sent me a missive from Lairg, telling me you'd fled into a snowstorm and hopefully you would make it back to me in Dornie. I set out traveling north with our brothers and my men, hoping I'd run into you on the trail before you died from the elements. I still hadn't found you by the time I reached Munrick. I was there when Haldane MacKay arrived to tell us you were here."

  "Oh." Isobel truly looked contrite. "I'm sorry to put you through so much trouble."

  "Don't fash yourself over it. I simply wanted to find you safe, and thanks to MacKay, you are. Now, I want to know what this Nolan MacLeod did," Cyrus said.

  Isobel gave him the same details she'd given Dirk on their journey here about the attempted rape and how they'd fought. The knave had broken her finger and she'd knocked him on the head with a stoneware jug.

  "Good for you, sister. I cannot believe I trusted those bastards." Cyrus sat back in his chair.

  "I cannot marry Torrin MacLeod now. You must know that."

  "Aye, of course not. As long as his brother lives, he would be a danger to you."

  A surge of relief rushed through Dirk. Now, he but had to get Cyrus's permission to marry Isobel. Would he agree to the arrangement?

  "I thank you for understanding," Isobel said.

  "Let me see your broken finger."

  She held it out to Cyrus. She'd put the splint on again, Dirk noticed, after he'd fussed at her about not wearing it when she was bathing him. Och. He had to put that experience from his mind or he'd end up getting aroused at a very bad time.

  "Who set it?" Cyrus asked.

  "Laird MacKay and his friend, Laird Rebbinglen, did a splendid job on it. It is healing well." Isobel glanced at Dirk, her eyes dark and tempting as a siren. Though it had been hellishly difficult, he'd stayed away from her as much as possible over the last several days. He needed to make sure she was his and no one else's before they indulged too many times betwixt the sheets. 'Twas far too easy to become addicted to her and want her five times a day.

  "Were you hurt in any other way?" her brother asked.

  "I had a bruise on my face and a knot on the back of my head from the scuffle with Nolan, but it was not terribly painful."

  "The bastard," Cyrus muttered under his breath, then turned to Dirk. "I thank you, Chief MacKay, for helping my sister." He held his hand out and Dirk shook it.

  "My pleasure. And please, call me Dirk." He faced Isobel. "If you would give us a moment in private, Lady Isobel."

  She sent him a suspicious and curious narrow-eyed look. "Very well." She exited, closing the door behind her.

  Would she eavesdrop outside the door again as she had when he and Conall had talked? Dirk slipped to the door and opened it, finding her a few feet away, along with Erskine, guarding him. He gave Isobel a pointed look. She rolled her eyes and disappeared down the short corridor toward the great hall.

  "Don't let her near the door," he murmured to Erskine. "I don't want her eavesdropping."

  "Aye, chief."

  Dirk closed the door and joined Cyrus at the table. "I need to ask something of you," Dirk said, sudden nerves seizing him. He had never done this before, nor had he witnessed anyone else making such a grand request. He hoped he would do it right.

  "Aye, what is it?"

  "I ask you…" Dirk cleared his throat. "I request Lady Isobel's hand in marriage."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "What?" Cyrus's dark brows lowered, giving him the look of a thunderous warlord. "You want to marry Isobel?"

  "Aye," Dirk said, feeling the restless urge to spring from his chair and pace the library. "If her betrothal to MacLeod is off, I would like to marry her."

  "Why?" her brother asked in a hard tone.

  "Well… many reasons." Dirk's stomach knotted and he hoped he didn't get tongue-tied. "She is the loveliest lass I've yet laid eyes on. I'm newly a chief, and the clan elders are already dogging me about finding a bride." Those were two valid reasons—the least important ones he could think of, but he couldn't simply blurt out that he'd already bedded Isobel and that he was falling in love with her. Or, worst of all, that she might already be carrying his bairn. No brother would want to hear that.

  Cyrus eyed him shrewdly. "I ken she's a widow, but
have you compromised her?"

  Hell, was it that obvious? "In truth, I have," Dirk admitted, shamed that he had little around Isobel, but at the same time, not truly regretting their astounding intimate encounters. "I hope you will not hold it against me."

  The MacKenzie's jaw clenched and his face hardened. "Damned if having a beautiful sister isn't hell on earth," he grumbled.

  "I apologize for my lack of restraint. But I do care for her… a great deal."

  "I can see that. And you protected her well." Cyrus studied him. "You know, this younger brother of yours—Haldane—claimed you're an imposter. I remember hearing that you had an accident and died many years ago. But you are the Dirk I remember. What happened?"

  Dirk explained how he'd had to leave Durness twelve years ago and why.

  "Your stepmother is still trying to kill you?"

  "Aye. I assume that's why she sent her son to the MacLeods. Hoping they'd come down hard on me for rescuing Lady Isobel, claiming I'd stolen her or taken her hostage."

  "The MacLeods had best not say a word to you or they'll have me to answer to," Cyrus growled. "I still may skewer that Nolan worm. Any man who injures a woman, or tries to force her, is lower than the sod beneath my feet."

  "We're in agreement on that."

  "I think we agree on a lot of things. I'll consider it an honor to be your brother-in-law." Cyrus offered his hand for a hearty shake.

  Dirk was pleased beyond measure. "I thank you, and likewise. I'll take care of your sister and protect her with my life."

  "Och. You're a good man, MacKay." Cyrus shook his head. "She'll need your protection. The lass gets into more scrapes than the dirty-faced village lads."

  Dirk grinned.

  "I'd like to talk to Isobel for a moment to see if she's in agreement," Cyrus said. "I'm sure she will be, considering that doe-eyed look she gave you. And then I'll have to deal with the MacLeods."

  Dirk nodded. "I'll send her in." He opened the door and proceeded into the corridor.

  "Chief," Erskine said. "The MacLeod is demanding entrance. He wishes to talk to you and Chief MacKenzie right away about his brother."

  ***

  "Would you and your men be willing to help me capture our escaped prisoners, including Haldane and McMurdo?" Dirk asked Cyrus as they proceeded across the bailey. "They're murderers and horse thieves, the lot of them."

  "Aye, I'll be glad to, and Nolan MacLeod can be among them for all I care."

  "I'd prefer to strangle the bastard," Dirk muttered, once again envisioning Isobel's broken finger, the bruise on her face and how much pain she'd been in.

  "I'll help." Cyrus gave an evil grin. "But first we need to see what Torrin MacLeod wishes to speak to us about and find out what he's going to do about his brother."

  Approaching the portcullis, Dirk saw that Torrin MacLeod waited there alone, a grim scowl on his face, his shoulders tense.

  "Aye. What did you want to tell us?" Dirk asked.

  "I spoke to Nolan."

  "What did the coward say?" Cyrus asked.

  "He said he didn't touch Lady Isobel and claims he's insulted that I'd accuse him of such."

  "He's lying," Dirk said.

  Torrin glared at him.

  "I ken he's your brother, but he's a liar and a snake in the grass. He broke Isobel's finger and put a bruise on her face. These I saw with my own eyes, as did my friend, Rebbinglen, and two servants. We had to set her broken finger. If she hadn't knocked Nolan out with that stoneware jug, he would've raped her."

  "MacKay is telling the truth," Cyrus said. "And so is my sister."

  "Tell him to come here and talk to us," Dirk said. "Or we'll go to him."

  Torrin motioned to a dark-haired, bearded man who stood some hundred yards away and vaguely looked like Nolan. Dirk had not seen him in a long time and couldn't be certain.

  The man had been staring at them, but then he turned his back and pretended to be checking his horse's saddle, ignoring his older brother's summons.

  "Damn him," Torrin growled. "I have no doubt he did what Lady Isobel says he did. I never should've trusted him. I caught him slapping his wife once about a year ago. I knocked him down for that, but he must not have learned a lesson from it. He's acting suspicious. If Lady Isobel will still have me, I'd like to have her as my wife. I'll send Nolan away. I want her to feel safe."

  "I can't allow it, MacLeod," Cyrus said. "You seem to be a good man, but I can't be sure she'll be safe at Munrick. The betrothal is off. Destroy the contract."

  "What? Nay! I'll not destroy the contract." Torrin's face reddened. "You signed it and I'm holding you to it." If not for the bars of the portcullis between them, Torrin would've been in Cyrus's face.

  "I don't give a damn!" Cyrus snarled. "You didn't protect my sister. She could've been raped and killed while under your roof."

  Torrin glared, his jaw clenched, green eyes narrowed. "I demand recompense. I want the three-hundred acres. Our clan needs that land for crops. We have very little arable land in Assynt. You've seen it. Naught but granite mountains."

  Cyrus shook his head. "That's the main part of my sister's dowry. How do you think I'm going to arrange another marriage for her if she has no dowry?"

  "I don't need her dowry," Dirk said calmly.

  Torrin's sharp gaze speared Dirk. "What? You're giving her to this…"

  "Choose your words carefully, MacLeod," Dirk warned.

  Torrin muttered a string of curses and paced back and forth outside the portcullis.

  "Aye. You lost your chance," Cyrus said in a remorseless tone. "MacKay rescued her from a snowstorm and has protected her ever since. Which is more than you could do."

  "I would have, if I'd been there," he snapped.

  Cyrus eyed Dirk. "You want a wife with no dowry?" he asked, his voice skeptical.

  Dirk shrugged. "The land matters not to me." I simply want Isobel. He'd keep that part to himself else the men might think him daft for giving up what was apparently valuable land. "'Tis likely too far south." He thought that sounded like a good excuse, although he probably should care more about the land. The MacKay clan could undoubtedly use more oats or grazing land for cattle.

  "I'll give you half the land in recompense, MacLeod. That's all. MacKay gets the other half when he marries Isobel." Cyrus switched his gaze to Dirk. "Come summer, you'll have a new galley too, MacKay. I'll not be giving my sister in marriage without a proper dowry. That would make the MacKenzies look downright stingy."

  Dirk grinned. "I thank you. That's very generous of you." He shook Cyrus's hand.

  "What about you, MacLeod?" Cyrus asked. "Are you satisfied with that, or are you planning to lift half my cattle?"

  "I'm satisfied," Torrin said, though he appeared irked and disappointed. "'Tis my brother who caused our clan to lose half the land. I'll deal with him." Torrin glared back to where Nolan was watching them from beside his horse.

  "I want to have a word with him too," Cyrus said.

  "As do I," Dirk said. "And if you'll have your men stand down, MacLeod, we'll have no disagreement this day."

  "Very well." Torrin returned to where his mounted men waited. Dirk still didn't trust them. But he had more than three dozen guards and armed clansmen both outside and inside the gates. If the MacLeods started a skirmish, they'd be outnumbered.

  Once the portcullis was open, Cyrus proceeded out to talk to his men. Several of them dismounted, then accompanied Cyrus calmly toward the MacLeods.

  Damn, Dirk wanted to strangle Nolan. He'd best not get near him or he might do just that, which might set off a bloody skirmish.

  Once it appeared Torrin had told his men they had no dispute, Dirk motioned to Keegan, Erskine and five more to back him up. "Let's go get our prisoners—including Haldane—and retrieve the horses they stole from us."

  Before they reached the group of men, Nolan leapt on his horse and galloped away, ignoring Torrin's command and the efforts of three of his own clansmen who struggled to stop him.


  Haldane and his friends hadn't dismounted, and when they saw the MacKays advancing on them, they fled, McMurdo with them. Without the MacLeods and the MacKenzies on their side, the outlaws were greatly outnumbered.

  Cyrus shouted a command, and the MacKenzies who were still mounted gave chase.

  Torrin and Cyrus explained to their men what Nolan had done and why he fled.

  "He's no longer welcome at Munrick!" Torrin said for all to hear, then approached Dirk where he stood beside Cyrus. "He's no longer my brother," he muttered, looking saddened but still furious.

  Several minutes later, the MacKenzies who had chased the outlaws returned, unsuccessful.

  After placing all their weapons, except their small sgian dubhs, into the armory, the MacKenzies and MacLeods entered the great hall of Dunnakeil. Dirk was glad to have two such strong clans as allies. And their chiefs appeared to be honorable men.

  Dirk spoke with the housekeeper and asked her to have the cook prepare enough food to satisfy their guests. Though he wanted to talk to Isobel, Dirk had to meet with Cyrus and Torrin, along with others in all three clans, in order to make their alliances official, documenting their agreements on paper. Maybe they could also work together in capturing the outlaws.

  ***

  Isobel sat at the high table, along with others from all three clans. Thankfully, Jessie and Seona were beside her. Dirk joined the other chiefs and Rebbie further along the table. Though his eyes had met hers a few times and he'd given her a faint enigmatic smile, he hadn't spoken more than a couple of words to her since they'd met with Cyrus in the library. What had he talked privately with her brother about? She couldn't see either of them alone to ask. They'd been busy all day with clan negotiations and business.

  After the grouse was served, Isobel's brother stood and raised his tankard of ale. "I would like to offer a toast," he announced in a commanding voice. The dozens of people in the great hall quieted. 'Twas likely a toast to their three clans renewing their alliances, Isobel thought.

  Her brother glanced at her. "To Chief MacKay and my dear sister, Lady Isobel, on their upcoming wedding."

 

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