Текст книги "My brave highlander"

Автор книги: Vonda Sinclair

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

Chapter Twenty

Isobel was surprised to see Dirk standing in the open doorway of the small, circular tower room. "Lady Isobel? Pray pardon. I thought Aiden was practicing his music up here."

"Nay. 'Tis only me."

"I didn't know you played." His sharp gaze speared her. "Why are you crying?"

"It matters not." Turning away, she wiped her sleeve at the idiotic tears. She hated for anyone to see her cry.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, coming more fully into the room. "How is your hand?"

"Nay, I'm well. And how is your head?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

"I have a headache. But I'd have one even if I hadn't taken an oar to the head last night."

"What is wrong?"

"I'd rather not talk about it." He came forward. "Let me see your broken finger."

When she held out her hand, he took it into his large warm ones. She loved the way his strong fingers held hers so gently as if he was afraid he'd injure her.

"The bruise is fading and the swelling has gone down," he observed.

She nodded.

His piercing gaze returned to her face. "So… why are you crying?"

"I'm not now." She grinned slightly, trying to convince him she was fine. In truth, being with him did lift her mood.

"But you were."

She shook her head. "'Twas the ballad I was playing. It makes me think of… Never mind. I'm sure you think I'm silly."

"Nay. Of course not. I'm curious." Considering his rapt attention, he did appear interested.

"Well, when I was a girl, The Laird o' Logie was my favorite. My mother often had the musicians play it after supper. I thought one day the ballad would be played at my wedding feast. I led a sheltered life back then, and I actually believed my dreams would come true. Of course, they didn't."

He moved toward the window as if distracted by something outside. After a moment, he turned back to her but she was unable to decipher his expression.

"I told you it was silly," she said, her face heating.

"'Tis not silly to wish to be happy."

"I hope you're happy being the new chief."

He shrugged. "Being chief is not a matter of happiness for me, but a matter of duty and responsibility."

She understood those things all too well, and they were not usually pleasant, at least not in her case. "Still, I hope you will enjoy being chief. I think you're ideally suited for the position. You're wise and brave. You will be a great leader."

"I thank you. I'll do my best." The afternoon sunlight in the room ignited the vivid blue of his eyes like flame.

"'Tis clear to me you will not be a greedy laird. Instead, you will be one who protects his people."

He gave a brief nod. "I will try as best I can to emulate my father. He was a skilled and well-respected chief. The clan could not have been more loyal to him."

She nodded, remembering how she'd felt when she entered this bower. "I wanted to talk to you about what Maighread said. She lied. I didn't say you were disgusting and barbaric. In fact, the opposite is true. You are the most appealing man I've ever met. Though you are strong and tough, you are also compassionate and protective."

He wore a slight frown but said naught, appearing speechless for the moment.

"I hope you don't believe I'm manipulating you, like she said. If you wish me to leave, I will. I'm not trying to trap you into… anything."

"Nay, I blame myself," he muttered with a tortured expression. "A man should maintain control at all times, especially with a lady who is… inexperienced. Even if I'd known, I'm not sure I would've had enough reasoning ability to stop."

"Well… I didn't try to stop you either. A widow of five-and-twenty should not be a virgin. I know you barely remember it, but for me it was…" She shook her head. "I have no words to describe it. More exquisite and beautiful than anything I could've imagined."

He gave her a dark look, his lashes lowered. Abruptly, he turned. "I must go."

"What? Why?"

He exited and closed the door behind him. Damn the man anyway. Why had he done that? Why wouldn't he talk to her and explain himself?

***

Dirk sucked in a deep breath of cool air in the corridor and headed toward the roof.

Exquisite and beautiful.

The way Isobel had described their lovemaking compelled him to pin her to the wall and take her again. Need and keen lust had shot through his body so swiftly, he'd near become dizzy with it. He had to find some restraint around her. If that meant not being around her, that's what he'd do.

If he got her with child before she was free from the MacLeod, there would be the devil to pay. Aside from that, he strove to be a man of honor who maintained control. For a man to take a virgin lady who wasn't his wife was the height of knavery.

But she tempted him beyond all reason.

When he exited onto the castle's ramparts, the icy wind hit him in the face. Just what he needed to cool his ardor. He glanced around and saw that the roof was empty. The guard towers below at each corner of the walls were more than sufficient to keep a lookout for approaching armies. None of which had invaded for years.

Needing a few minutes alone, he'd asked Erskine to wait at the bottom of the steps below.

He paced, his gaze drawn toward the sun setting over the bay and mountains, golden orange and rose blended with the grayish clouds. Such a lovely sight. Home. The waves crashing below and rhythmically sliding over the sand helped the tension and lust drain from his body. He inhaled deeply of the frigid salt air. How he'd missed this place.

A movement at the door caught his attention. Isobel, with the cowl over her head, squeezed out and the wind shoved the door closed again.

What the devil was she doing following him?

His lust surged to the forefront again, even though he knew there was no chance of taking her now. His body didn't care. What he couldn't remember from last night, his imagination filled in with spellbinding erotic imagery and sensations.

She strode toward him. "Dirk? Why did you walk out in such a way?"

How could she not understand? She knew little about men; that was why. Well hell, he wasn't explaining it to her. The less they talked about swiving the better.

"Are you still angry with me?" she asked.

"Nay."

"But you don't trust me. That's clear."

"Aye. I do trust you. But I don't trust myself."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Clasping the icy stone before him, he shook his head. "Because—damnation, Isobel—I want you," he growled. "Can you not see that? I want… what we did last night… again."

Her eyes widening—in shock or interest—he couldn't be sure. She licked her lips and the action near drove him mad.

He squeezed his eyes closed against the luscious sight of her.

A second later, she touched his arm. His eyes sprang open and he glared at her. She was too close, her body practically against his.

"Isobel… go back inside." The chill wind snatched his words away, making them almost too low to hear.

She shook her head.

"Do as I say," he growled more sharply.

She bit her lip, looking unsure and vulnerable again.

"I'm not angry with you, lass," he said, trying to make his voice gentle. "I'm trying to protect you."

"I don't want to be protected from you."

Something fluttered and surged in his chest. Hell. He felt near senseless around her. As if his body and emotions were in control and his reasoning mind had abandoned him.

He breathed deeply of the cold air, but it would not dispel his hunger for her. She wanted him just as he wanted her. Her rosy lips lured him. He had to taste them one more time.

Letting go the bitter cold stone, he grabbed her to him. The flare of excitement in her eyes fueled his desires. Her lips were as cold as his, but the inside of her mouth was hot and sweet as he delved inside to taste her. His hands slid down her back to her waist to hold her close. Her fingers wove through his hair, pulling, but he didn't care. He wanted naught but to devour every last inch of her.

Her delicate tongue flicked against his, spiking his lust, making him groan. He tugged her tighter against his body, against his hard shaft. Damn, how he wanted her, right here and now. The cold wouldn't matter, but he couldn't do it. No lady wanted to be taken roughly against an icy stone wall with her legs exposed to the wintry wind.

Simply imagining her naked thighs spread, himself lodged between, made his shaft jolt with powerful arousal. He moaned. Her mouth was better than any honeyed treat he'd ever tasted.

Something whizzed past the back of his head, the air off it wafting against his hair. Alarm shrieking through him, he rolled with Isobel to the stone floor of the battlement. She ended up on top but he quickly put her behind him.

What the devil was that?

An arrow bounced off the wall.

"Iosa is Muire Mhàthair." Some bastard was shooting at him? Damnation. Either of them could've been killed. "Stay down!"

Cautiously, he rose and scanned the roof. They were still alone. Had to be someone on the ground. How had they known he'd be up here? He peered over the edge of the rampart in the direction the arrow had been shot from—the west. He saw no one on the ground below. Where had the bastard gone?

His gaze drifted further along, to the wall enclosing the church. A figure disappeared behind a tall Celtic cross gravestone. Someone was trying to murder him from within the churchyard? What manner of evil lurked here? It couldn't be McMurdo. He was still in the dungeon—at least he had been an hour ago. Surely he hadn't escaped since then. No alarm had been sounded.

Narrowing his eyes, Dirk watched and waited. He saw no more evidence of the dark-clothed figure.

Isobel crawled across the roof toward him. "Do you see anyone?"

"Aye, but I couldn't see who it was." Gloaming was growing duskier by the second.

He was certain, whoever it was, Maighread had hired him. Who knew how many men she'd hired to dispatch him?

"Come. Let's go back inside."

Staying crouched, they moved toward the door. He opened it and helped her through. They descended to the castle's top floor.

"I'd like for you to stay in your bedchamber until I come get you," he said in a hushed tone. "I'm going to take some men and try to catch whoever shot at us. I'll post a guard at your door."

"Do you truly feel that's necessary?" she whispered.

"Aye. Now that Maighread knows we've… been intimate, she might use you to bring me down."

***

"Why are you wearing armor?" Rebbie asked Dirk quietly when he appeared in the great hall.

Dirk's gaze scanned those present. Though several eyed him with curiosity, none seemed hostile or suspicious. "Why do you think?" Dirk muttered aside, making sure no one was near enough to hear. "Someone is trying to kill me again."

Rebbie gave a dark frown. "What happened?"

"On the ramparts moments ago, an arrow flew past my head. A man was hiding in the graveyard. Some bastard Maighread hired, without doubt. Or maybe it was Haldane. I'm getting the men together to do a search. McMurdo should still be in the dungeon. If he is, the witch has hired someone else. If he's somehow escaped, I'm going after him. I won't be so lenient this time."

"I need my armor too, then." Rebbie's hand flexed on his sword hilt at his side.

"Aye. And we'll wear our helms too."

"There you are," someone said behind him.

Dirk turned to find Aiden looking worried and glancing over his shoulder.

"What is it?" Dirk asked.

"I've been searching all over for you," he whispered. "We have to talk in private."

"We'll go into the library. You go first and we'll be right in." That way if Maighread had a spy in the great hall, it wouldn't appear Aiden and Dirk were together. He didn't want Maighread to know Aiden was helping him. That might put him in danger. Not that he truly believed Maighread would harm her own son, but if she thought Aiden was betraying her, she might decide Haldane was the one she would put in as chief.

A few minutes later, Dirk and Rebbie found Aiden pacing in the library.

"What is it, lad?" Dirk asked after they entered and closed the door.

"'Tis Mother. I heard her whispering to Haldane. She told him to go to the tavern in the village and meet with a man with light hair and a beard."

"She didn't say his name?"

Aiden shook his head. "Nay. If she did, I didn't hear it."

"To what purpose? Is this someone she's hiring to assassinate me?"

"That's what it sounded like. Haldane is to take him a bag of silver."

Dirk muttered a string of Gaelic curses. "You stay here, Aiden. I'll take the men and see what's going on at the tavern."

Moments later, Dirk, Rebbie, Keegan, Erskine and five other clansmen rode away from Dunnakeil along the frozen mud trail. Gloaming had quickly descended to night. The chill wind blew low clouds rapidly beneath the moon, creating moments of meager light mixed with darkness. Although it was difficult to see clearly, Dirk scanned the hills and mountains around them, as did the other men.

Before they'd left the keep, Dirk had checked the dungeon. McMurdo remained locked up. He'd questioned the other members of McMurdo's gang, but none had revealed anything. He had to find out who this new threat was from. Who had shot the arrow at him and who was Haldane meeting in the tavern?

He only hoped Isobel stayed safely in her room as he'd told her. He'd left Conall's second son, Dougal, and another trusted clansman guarding outside her door. Dirk shouldn't think of the kiss on the roof because it might distract him, but 'twas hard to forget the addictive taste and feel of her. The vivid images of her that played through his head heated his blood on this cold night.

The flicker of lantern light at Stackie's abandoned byre beside the trail caught his eye. He drew up. "Someone is in the byre up ahead. It could be a crofter, or it could be an ambush." He dismounted. "Come. Let's slip up on them."

The other men dismounted, drew their swords and followed him. Leaving their lantern behind, and two men to guard the horses, they crept the rest of the way by the moody light of the moon, the frost crunching and crackling beneath their boots.

They slipped in behind the byre and along the side as silently as possible. Hearing rumbling voices inside, Dirk paused to listen but could make out none of their words.

"Do you think 'tis Haldane?" Rebbie whispered.

"Likely."

When one of Haldane's friends rounded the corner alone, they knew the truth of it. Dirk knocked him on the head with the hilt of his sword. He gave a low cry and crumpled to the ground.

"Bind him," Dirk whispered, sheathing his sword.

He hoped the noise didn't alert the rest of the group. When he heard raised voices coming from inside, he figured they hadn't been paying attention.

Rebbie dragged the man behind the stone building.

The arguing continued inside the byre, then a yell cut them off. Haldane, trying to be bossy and commanding. How did they expect to ambush anyone if they were that boisterous? Or maybe it wasn't an ambush after all. Mayhap they were simply having a meeting. Either way, they were likely up to no good.

Haldane and some of his friends were in that youthful, awkward stage between a lad and man. Most of them were tall and strong but had more cockiness than sense. They'd take foolish risks a grown man wouldn't take. They were dangerous, both to others and themselves.

Dirk waited in the shadows at the side of the building where the moonlight didn't reach him.

Another youth popped his head around the corner. "Finlay? Where the devil are you?"

Come a wee bit closer.

Dirk almost grinned when the young man drew his sword and crept forward. Dirk leapt from the shadows, grabbed his opponent's sword wrist and clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Be quiet or you'll regret it," Dirk growled next to his ear. Easily subduing the skinny lad, he dragged him behind the building. "I need a rope and a gag," Dirk whispered to Rebbie.

"'Tis time to put a stop to this," Keegan muttered once both the young troublemakers were trussed up like pigs.

"What's your plan?" Dirk asked.

"I'm going to ask Haldane what the hell he's about. You two stay here."

"Nay, I'd never let you handle this alone," Dirk said.

Keegan was much closer to Haldane than Dirk, having been with him all these years, so maybe he could get through to him. But Dirk still wanted to protect his cousin. Haldane was unpredictable and unscrupulous, especially when he was doing his mother's bidding.

Dirk's party crept around the side of the small stone building.

"You men, wait out here," Dirk told Erskine and the others.

Dirk, Keegan and Rebbie walked into the ruined byre and the five arguing men inside dropped silent and turned. A lantern sat to the side, illuminating each face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Haldane asked, glaring at Dirk.

"I'm wondering the same thing about you, brother."

"Where are Finlay and Ross?" Haldane demanded.

"They're safe," Keegan said. "What are you lads doing here in this abandoned byre?"

"'Tis none of your concern what I do."

"As chief of this clan, I find 'tis my concern," Dirk said.

"You're only the chief as long as you can stay alive." Smirking, Haldane withdrew his sword. His four friends followed suit, assuming the guard stance.

Damnation, he wished Haldane was not his brother; he would beat some sense into him. Dirk couldn't harm family… at least he hoped he didn't have to. He remembered Haldane when he'd been a wee lad. But Dirk could toss his daft arse into the dungeon and teach him a lesson.

"Put the sword away," Dirk said in a reasonable tone, his own sword still in the scabbard. His brother was so inexperienced that he didn't know this space was too confined to use a broadsword effectively. A dagger or dirk would be far more useful if you truly wanted to kill someone.

"Nay," Haldane growled. "Let's have this out once and for all."

"I have several men outside waiting. You're outnumbered." Dirk crossed his arms over his chest.

"I can still kill you." With a rush forward, Haldane charged him, his sword tip pointed at Dirk's chest.

Dirk stepped aside and grabbed his brother's sword arm. Although the lad was strong and slightly brawny, his strength couldn't compare to Dirk's. He squeezed Haldane's wrist near hard enough to break it. The lad cried out and dropped his weapon. Maneuvering quickly, Dirk restrained Haldane's arms behind his back and shoved his face against the stone wall.

Steel blades clanged as the other men moved the skirmish outside for more room. Damnation, 'twas too dark for a battle now.

"Listen to me, you little bastard," Dirk growled next to Haldane's ear while yanking one arm up harder. "Doing your mother's bidding will get you killed. She's a treacherous bitch and a murderess. I'm taking her down. If you're hanging onto her skirt-tails like a wee bairn, you'll go down with her. You want to be a man, act like one."

Haldane squirmed, cursed and jerked about, trying to free himself, but Dirk held him fast.

"Who were you planning to meet at the tavern?" Dirk asked.

"You think I'm telling you?"

Retaining a hold on his wrists, Dirk shoved him outside in search of a rope to tie him up. One of Haldane's men, in truth one of Maighread's younger guards, lay on the ground, unmoving, blood staining the side of his face.

"What the hell happened to him?" Haldane yelled.

"Knocked out," Keegan said. "Hope he wakes up. If not, it's on your head. That's what happens when you provoke a skirmish. You should be ashamed, fighting amongst your own clan. Your father would be disappointed in you."

"This bastard is not part of my clan." Haldane jerked his head toward Dirk.

The rest of Haldane's men were captured and disarmed. Rebbie stood with his foot planted on the back of one of them, a sword in each hand. The lad squirmed and turned his head about, trying to grab Rebbie's ankle. Smiling, he pressed down harder and the lad snarled.

"Let's tie them all up. They're going into the dungeon," Dirk said.

"I'll be damned if I'm going into any dungeon." Haldane flung himself toward the ground. Twisting and turning, he yanked himself from Dirk's grip. Dirk attempted to grab hold of him again, but Haldane, with his smaller body, was quicker. He launched himself at Rebbie who dodged out of the way. The lad who'd been beneath his boot leapt to his feet and sprinted after Haldane. They both raced toward a grove of bushes.

"Cowards!" Dirk yelled. He needed to chase them down and capture them, especially Haldane. But in this darkness, they'd be difficult to find in the thicket. Although they had no swords, they likely still had their knives. They could easily hide and leap out on anyone who went into the bushes after them.

Dragging the skinny lad named Ross to his feet and untying the gag, Dirk grabbed his hair. "Who was Haldane planning to meet at the tavern?"

"I'm telling you naught, you bastard!"

"How old are you?" Dirk asked for he acted like a spoiled bairn.

"Eighteen summers."

Dirk nodded. "I'm thinking your da will take a horse whip to your sorry hide when he finds out what you've been doing. Opposing the clan chief is the same as treason. You'd best be telling me what I want to know. I can keep you in the dungeon as long as I want. Months. Years. It matters not to me."

"Kiss my arse! You're not our chief."

Fury rushed through Dirk's veins. He wanted to slap the lad to the ground, but given that Dirk outweighed him by ten stone, such a violent action would make him no better than his stepmother.

"You are no longer a member of this clan," Dirk said with cold finality. If Ross wasn't loyal, Dirk didn't want him around causing trouble.

"You can't do that," Ross said in an unsure tone.

"I just did. If I ever decide to release you from the dungeon, you'll have to leave MacKay lands and never come back."

"This is my home!"

"What do you think happens when men are not loyal to their chief?"

The lad merely stared at him wide-eyed.

"I can't trust you. You'll likely stab me in the back."

"Very well," Ross ground out as if someone were forcing the words from his mouth. "Haldane was meeting no one. 'Twas supposed to be an ambush."

To hear his suspicions confirmed sent fury raging through Dirk's veins. "Haldane was planning to kill me here?"

"Aye."

"Why?" Dirk demanded, even though he already knew.

"His mother said he had to do it."

"Of course." That bitch! Dirk had expected nothing less. "Who shot the arrow at me on the roof?"

"Haldane saw you up there when we were heading out here. He said you were acting like king of the castle and should be taken down. He ordered Gil to shoot the arrow while the rest of us hid behind the kirk wall."

"Who's Gil?" Dirk demanded.

"The lad who ran away with Haldane."

Damnation. Dirk would've especially loved to have captured him. "I thank you for telling me."

"I spoke the truth. Will you allow me to stay now? I don't wish to leave the clan."

"That depends on how loyal you are to me. I'll tolerate no empty words. You think on it a while, then decide what kind of man you want to be."

Ross hung his head.

"Let's get these traitors back to the dungeon," Dirk said. "Walk," he ordered Ross.

The lad stumbled forward and glanced back, more fearful now. He well knew a man without a clan was vulnerable indeed, but Dirk could tolerate no disloyalty.

The two men who'd been knocked out were carried and tossed across the horses' backs. The rest were bound and forced to walk forward. The lads were not boasting so much now. Likely, none of them had ever spent time in a dungeon, and mayhap they were a little afraid.

Dirk led his horse and made Ross walk ahead of him while he held the rope binding his wrists.

A few minutes later, they entered Dunnakeil's gates, the guards there surprised to see the prisoners from their own clan, some of them sons of respected clan members. The lads would have to be taught a lesson if they were ever to be loyal and trusted members of the clan. Maybe they never would be. If not, he'd have to send them all away.

Dirk spoke to the front gate guards. "Don't allow Haldane or his young friend Gil inside the gates. They are traitors who shot at me and then started up a skirmish in the byre. If you see them, capture them. Tell the rest of the guards."

One guard's brows lifted. "Aye, m'laird."

The dungeon contained plenty of cells with solid, well-maintained doors. Dirk made sure every last one of Haldane's party was locked in an isolated cell, because he didn't want them talking and hatching more plans. He wanted them to think long and hard about their traitorous actions, attacking their chief and his party. Men had been executed for less. Dirk didn't plan on doing anything so drastic, but he would never be able to trust the backstabbers. He was glad to be finding out exactly who in the clan he could trust.

Now he had to deal with his murderous stepmother.