Текст книги "My brave highlander"

Автор книги: Vonda Sinclair

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Chapter Twenty-Two

Dirk muttered a string of mindless curses, annoyed beyond measure to be dragged from this paradise of drowsy sexual arousal while he was nestled with Isobel in bed. His shaft was stone-hard and he needed her now.

"Dirk, are you in there, lad?" Sounded like Uncle Conall's voice.

"Aye," Dirk yelled back, then dragged himself from the bed. The room was near pitch black, except for a few orange coals in the hearth. Where the devil were his clothes? He slid one of the wool blankets from the bed and wrapped it around his waist.

The door opened and Conall entered, carrying a lantern.

"I'm coming! Wait in the corridor," Dirk said, trying to prevent Conall from seeing Isobel in bed behind him.

"What's happening?" Isobel asked, stirring and turning over.

Conall's brows shot up his forehead.

Hell. Dirk rolled his eyes. "If you could give us some privacy, Uncle, I'll get dressed. Leave the lantern."

"Indeed. But hurry, lad." Conall set the lantern on the floor, then exited, closing the door behind him.

"What is it?" she asked again.

"I know not yet. I have to get dressed and find out." What damned timing. It had to be important or Conall wouldn't have burst in. Dirk opened a trunk, removed several items of clothing and quickly dressed. "You stay there. I'll return and let you know what's happened when I can."

She sat up, her brows furrowed. "I hope you'll be careful."

"Of course." He wanted to kiss her but that might tell her he was feeling emotions he didn't want her to know about. "Bar the door and allow no one in."

She nodded. "Hurry back."

Taking the lantern, he met Conall in the hallway. "Not a word about this to anyone, Uncle," Dirk warned.

"Much as I'd love to tease you about the lass in your bed, there are more important things afoot."

"What?"

"Haldane and some others broke all the prisoners out of the dungeon, including McMurdo."

"How the hell did they accomplish that?" Dirk asked, quickening his steps.

"They killed two of the MacKay guards and a third is injured."

"Iosa is Muire Mhàthair. That little bastard. I'm done giving him second chances and treating him like a brother. I can't overlook murder."

"Agreed."

"How many with him and who were they?"

"We know not for a certainty, but they took ten horses. And someone did see one of Lady MacKay's guards with them as they fled. Once we searched for the rest of her guards, we found them all missing."

"She's behind this of course."

"Without doubt. 'Haps one of her maids took a missive to one of her guards or Haldane."

"I've been too lenient with her and Haldane."

Conall nodded.

"I'll be right back. I have to speak to the guards I placed at the witch's door." After hurrying along the corridor and up a different flight of stairs, Dirk arrived at Maighread's bedchamber. The two guards stood on either side of the door.

"Who entered or left this room?" Dirk asked.

"Her maid took supper in to her last night," one of the guards said in a hesitant tone.

"Allow no one else to enter. She's to have no contact with anyone. No talking and no missives. Make sure she hides no notes beneath or inside anything that leaves this room. Two guards are dead because of her scheming. This is a matter of utmost importance. Do you understand?"

"Aye, m'laird," the two guards said in unison.

They'd best obey his command or he'd send them packing. He wouldn't tolerate insubordinate or slovenly guards.

Moments later, Dirk rejoined Conall in the lower corridor and they descended the narrow stairwell to find several angry, shouting men in the great hall.

"Which way are they headed?" Dirk asked loudly.

His clansmen quieted and turned to him. "We know not yet. Three men are following them."

"What is all the ruckus?" Rebbie asked behind him.

Dirk turned to find his friend fully dressed. "Thanks to Haldane, the prisoners have escaped. They killed two guards. We're going to find them." Dirk strode toward the exit, all the men following him.

They proceeded across the torch-lit bailey to the stables where the grooms and lads were already busy saddling horses.

"Each of the outlaws took a horse," one of the young grooms told Dirk. "I tried to stop him, m'laird, but your younger brother stole your horse."

A lit fuse of outrage burned through Dirk. "What? Haldane stole Tulloch?"

The groom shied back. "Aye. He forced me to saddle him at sword point."

"Damn the little bastard," Dirk growled. If Haldane was here, Dirk didn't know if he could stop himself from strangling him. He hoped Tulloch tossed the upstart into a bog.

"He must have stones the size of cannonballs," Rebbie muttered.

"Which might get him killed." Bravery didn't equal intelligence. "How many horses are left?"

"A couple dozen," the groom said.

"That's enough." They'd find the horse thieves and murderers.

A skinny lad ran into the stables, breathing hard. "M'laird, I didn't go with them."

Holding the lantern aloft, Dirk saw 'twas Ross, the friend of Haldane's Dirk had threatened with expulsion from the clan. "They freed me from the dungeon but instead of riding away with them, I hid until they left."

"I'm proud of you, Ross," Dirk said, halfway trusting the lad, and halfway wondering if Haldane had left him here for some nefarious purpose. 'Haps as a spy. But he'd give him the benefit of the doubt. "I'm glad you've learned a lesson. Do you ken where they're headed?"

"Nay, they didn't say. But 'twas Haldane, Gil, and some of Lady MacKay's guards who released us."

Just as Dirk suspected. "Stay here and help the stable lads."

"Aye, m'laird." Ross immediately joined the others, asking what they needed help with.

"Watch him," Dirk whispered aside to Conall. "I don't trust him. He may be working for Haldane. Don't allow him near Isobel. Will you relay the message to her guards?"

Conall nodded. "Indeed. Have a care, lad."

Dirk mounted the unfamiliar horse, a renewed surge of fury at Haldane heating his veins. He'd get Tulloch back, even if he had to chase Haldane all the way to the Lowlands.

Moments later, Dirk, Rebbie, Keegan, Erskine, and almost a dozen of the strongest, best-trained clansmen rode through the gates, leaving several guards to man the gates in the event the outlaws circled back.

Using lanterns and torches, they followed the hoof prints in the few inches of snow that blanketed the frozen ground of the moor. The tracks led south. A sinking feeling settled into Dirk's gut. Could they be headed toward Munrick Castle and the MacLeods?

Damn Maighread. She'd sent Haldane to tell them of Isobel's whereabouts. That had to be it. She'd do anything to stop him, even betray her best friend's daughter. He should've expected nothing less from the hag.

A half hour later, meager dawn lightened the sky a wee bit. Dirk was startled to see a great black form moving across the moor in the snow, large hooves thumping against the ground as it grew closer.

"Tulloch?" Dirk drew up and motioned for everyone to stop. Aye, the warhorse trotted toward him.

"Well, I'll be damned," Rebbie said.

Dirk grinned and dismounted, thrilled to find Tulloch. The animal was more than a horse; he was a friend.

Skidding to a halt, but still unruly, Tulloch snorted and pawed the ground, as if mightily insulted that he could be stolen and ridden by a horse thief.

Dirk caught his reins. "There now, lad. Settle down." He allowed the horse to smell him and he calmed. "Aye, you did good. Did you toss the wee bastard in a loch? I hope so."

Dirk examined the horse for injuries, then checked the saddle and tack. All appeared well. He hoisted himself into the saddle. One of the men who'd been riding double, mounted the extra horse.

A couple of hours later, they reached Scourie and the trail of horse's hoof prints through the snow continued south, just as he'd expected.

Dirk paused and the other men followed suit. "They've gone to the MacLeods."

"Hell," Rebbie muttered.

"Why?" one of his clansmen asked. Of course, Rebbie, Keegan, Erskine and a couple others knew the reason, but not everyone in the MacKay clan did.

"My stepmother sent them. As you know, I rescued Lady Isobel MacKenzie in a snowstorm several days ago."

A few of the men nodded.

"What you may not know is that one of the MacLeods abused her and attempted to rape her. That's why she fled. And she's betrothed to their chief."

The men muttered curses and insults aimed at the MacLeods.

"Lady Isobel has been safe with us, but now, because of Haldane and the men with him, the MacLeods will know where she is. They'll come after her," Dirk said.

"Let them come! We'll skewer every last one of them!"

A shout went up. Clearly the men were pumped up on battle-lust and raring to go. The horses snorted and danced about amid the excitement.

"There's no need to ride further south," Dirk said once they'd settled down. "We know where they've gone. We'll return to Dunnakeil and prepare for battle."

"Aye!" several men shouted.

"After they ride all the way from Munrick, they'll be weary. We'll have the advantage."

"Aye, chief," several agreed.

Proud they supported him in his decisions, Dirk led the men home at a more sedate pace so as not to tax the horses. Once back at Dunnakeil, after they'd eaten midday meal, Dirk gave each of the men responsibilities to prepare for the arrival of the MacLeods. Some of the younger MacKay men had never seen battle because they'd had peace for several years, and the MacLeods had been allies. Dirk was near certain that alliance was now broken, since he'd rescued Isobel.

Finished with assigning duties, Dirk entered the great hall, hoping to get a moment alone with Isobel.

"Lad, we need to talk," Uncle Conall said, following him in.

Dirk turned. "Aye. What is it?"

"Let's step into the library."

Once they were inside, Conall closed the door. "The agreement with the Murrays troubles me."

"Me as well." That was an understatement. He hated to break an agreement his father had signed, but he couldn't follow through. He couldn't marry another woman when he loved Isobel.

Damnation! Where had that thought come from? The blood drained from his face, leaving him chilly.

He'd never fallen for a woman before, and he was uncertain what he was feeling, in truth. Maybe it wasn't love. Nevertheless, the emotion was fierce and strong and would not be denied.

"Then there is the issue of you and Lady Isobel," Conall said, in a serious tone.

"Aye." 'Twas certainly the issue that most occupied his mind and distracted him from the business of leading the clan.

"She's a bonny lass, and the first time I saw you observing her, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist her."

Dirk shrugged. "'Tis true." He couldn't deny it since Conall had seen Isobel in his bed, but neither was he going to confess all to his uncle.

"When you were fifteen, we all traveled to Dornie to visit with the MacKenzies."

"Aye, I remember it well," Dirk said.

"There's something you don't know." Conall scratched his gray beard as if not entirely comfortable with what he was about to reveal. "Your father wished to keep it a secret from you," he explained further. "The main purpose of that visit was not for your stepmother to visit her friend."

"What was the purpose?" Dirk asked, impatient with his uncle's beating about the bush.

"Your father wanted to arrange a betrothal between you and the MacKenzie's daughter."

A shock of confusion traveled through Dirk. "What?"

"Aye, Isobel MacKenzie is the daughter in question."

"I was never betrothed to anyone. My father would've told me."

"Indeed, he would have. Isobel's father refused the suit."

Dirk frowned, unsure if he wanted to ask why. This was all such a shock to him, a thousand questions crowded his mind.

"The MacKenzie did not give a good reason for refusing," Conall said. "Just that his daughter was too young and his wife wished that she be older before such an important decision was made. Of course, chiefs' daughters have been betrothed much younger than thirteen for marriage later, but she was a spoiled and coddled lass. No doubt her mother wanted to allow her to choose a husband." Conall shrugged. "Anyway, none of that mattered a year later when everyone thought you dead. But now, Isobel MacKenzie is here and you seem to enjoy her company, which makes me think… well, fate is a strange thing. And 'haps your father knew something none of the rest of us did."

Dirk was near speechless. Shaking his head, he tried to clear the chaos from his mind. One thing remained. "She is betrothed to someone else."

"Aye, but I thought you had a right to know. Your father told no one but me and a couple more people what his plans were for you. Once her father refused, he was disappointed. The MacKenzies are a bit wealthier than we are and 'haps that was part of the reason. Or 'haps they wished to secure some other alliance."

"I'm glad you told me." Dirk's first instinct was to be offended or hurt that her father would refuse the suit. But at thirteen and fifteen, Isobel and Dirk had been too young to worry about it at the time. 'Haps her father had not seen Dirk as good husband material at that age. Although he was unsure how a man would judge such a thing before a lad was even grown. More likely, 'twas simply a matter of the MacKenzie not needing to marry her to a MacKay since they were already allies.

"I'm all for a man choosing his own bride." Conall grinned.

"As you did?"

"Aye. Your aunt is a fine woman. We've been happy for many years. I want that for you too, as did your father. If Isobel is that woman, fight for her."

"I will." Indeed, how could he give her up now? He couldn't. "But I hate that I've dragged the whole of the MacKay clan into my battle."

"Any fight of yours is also our fight," Conall said in a zealous tone. "We'll not abandon you. You did a good deed, protecting Lady Isobel from the knave who would torture her, and also rescuing her from the elements."

Dirk nodded. "I'll have to marry her. No question about it."

"Is that a hardship?" Conall's brows quirked upward.

Dirk wanted to grin, but forced a straight face. "Nay, but I'll need her brother's permission. He may see me as an outlaw and refuse. I would have sent a missive letting him know where she is, but I feared the messenger would be detained while passing through MacLeod territory and the missive read. I didn't want them to learn her whereabouts at all costs. But now they will. Likely, they'll be here in a matter of days."

"Let them come! We won't give her up to the knaves."

***

Isobel stood outside the library door, disappointment engulfing her. She'd heard what Dirk said inside the room. He felt he had to marry her. As if someone were forcing him? Her intention had never been to trap him or make him feel forced into anything. She wouldn't do it. She would simply leave and go back to her brother's or her aunt's home. If Dirk had no choice in the matter, he'd resent her and the marriage, wouldn't he?

Conall opened the door, startling her, and Isobel jumped back.

He gave her a broad grin and a sweeping bow. "Lady Isobel." He strode down the corridor, whistling.

Wearing leather armor, Dirk eyed her suspiciously from just inside the doorway.

"I cannot marry you," she stated firmly, despite her throat constricting, then turned to walk away.

Dirk grabbed her wrist, dragged her inside the library and shut the door. "You shouldn't eavesdrop, Isobel."

"I didn't mean to," she snapped. Avoiding his gaze, she tried to shove her emotions beneath a thick cloak of indifference. "Aiden told me he saw you headed this way and I thought to see you for a moment." Because they had shared such profound intimacy the night before, and he'd had no free time to spend with her today beyond a passing greeting. "Then, I heard voices coming from inside." She yanked her wrist from his grip and picked up an enticing whiff of his manly scent—leather and horses and the fresh outdoors—that threatened her resolve. "You and your uncle were discussing me, so 'tis my right to listen."

"Damnation," he muttered under his breath.

"No one has a knife to your throat," she said, irritation bubbling inside her. "So please do not feel anyone is forcing you to marry me because we… shared a bed."

"Be quiet," he murmured.

Ignoring him, she went on, determined to speak her mind. "At least my first husband wanted to marry me. He didn't feel forced into it."

"I want to marry you," Dirk confessed, his blue eyes piercing.

She studied him, trying to discern the truth and what he might be feeling.

"But 'twill not be an easy thing to accomplish," he said. "The MacLeod, the MacKenzie. The Murray problem."

He certainly seemed less than enthusiastic about marrying her. "What Murray problem?" she asked.

"The Murrays and my father signed a contract that their daughter, Lady Seona, was to marry the next chief of MacKay."

"I know about that, but she won't marry you."

"In truth?" His brows lifted a fraction.

Isobel shook her head. "She knows about what happened between us. She and I are friends. Besides, she's smitten with someone else, although she will not admit it."

"Who?" Dirk asked.

"Keegan."

"Hmm. I see."

"Don't tell him," Isobel said in a stern tone.

"I won't." Dirk almost grinned.

He looked much too scrumptious at the moment with his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest and his blue eyes gleaming with a pleasant expression. She wanted to kiss him, but he'd probably see that as manipulation. "I must go," she said.

"The MacLeods will be here soon. Haldane and the men he broke out of the dungeon went to them. Sent by Maighread."

She hoped and prayed his clan wouldn't want to turn her over to them in order to avoid a battle. "I won't leave with them."

"Of course not. I would never ask you to. They may try to storm the castle and drag you out bodily." His eyes narrowed. "I'll cut them all down if they even try it."

An involuntary shiver raced over her at his vehemence and the glimpse of his passion. Maybe he did care for her, even if he couldn't voice the words yet. He was, after all, a warrior accustomed to hiding his true feelings.

"I thank you for protecting me," she said.

He gave a small nod, his eyes growing darker as he observed her intently. She knew that look and craved it. But she must not succumb again. He felt she was forcing him to marry her. 'Twas the last thing she wanted. He might also suspect, as Maighread had told him, that Isobel was using him to avoid marrying the MacLeod. Also untrue. She didn't wish to use Dirk for any purpose.

"What will you say to Torrin MacLeod?" she asked.

Dirk tensed and his frown deepened. He looked more fearsome than usual in his battle armor—the steel-studded leather and all his weapons. "I'll tell him he is a daft sheep for not protecting you from his knave of a brother."

"I wish we could've sent my brother a missive." Mayhap Cyrus could straighten it all out since he was the one who had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

"As do I, but there were too many risks."

"I don't want you fighting a battle because of me. It would kill me if something happened to you. You rescued me and helped me. Now you and your whole clan will be in danger because of me." Tears stung her eyes.

"There's naught to worry over. I happen to be good at fighting," he said in a light tone.

"I ken it, but…" She shook her head, remorse weighting heavily upon her, and lowered her gaze to her nervous, fidgety fingers. "I told you that you should've left me where you found me. Now look. I've put you in danger."

Dirk approached her where she stood by the door and lifted her chin. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing he wouldn't watch her cry. He stroked his thumb across her cheek, catching her tears. "Shh." He kissed her forehead, then her lips fleetingly. "We'll have the upper hand."

"Don't go outside the walls. Promise me."

He sent her a half grin. "I cannot promise you that, lass. I'll do what I have to do to protect you and everyone at Dunnakeil. If MacLeod attacks, we will fight back."

***

After Dirk's bastard of a horse had thrown Haldane, he'd made two of his men ride together and taken one of their horses.

"McMurdo," Haldane addressed the legendary gray-haired man who rode beside him.

"Aye," he said in a gruff voice. Pockmarks, scars, and wrinkles marred the man's face but those blemishes simply gave him character. Haldane wished he could've seen all the adventures McMurdo had been a part of over the years.

"I appreciate your help," Haldane said. "If I become chief of the MacKay clan, you can rest assured the burial place you paid Da for will remain yours." Although Haldane had no inkling why, the tough old bastard valued his tomb more than anything. Haldane had too much living to do to think of graves. But he'd do whatever necessary to get McMurdo to do what he wanted.

The older man studied him with eyes sharp as a dark blade. "I thank you."

This was one man Haldane did not wish to cross, and having him on his side was like having a secret weapon.

"If Dirk remains chief," Haldane said. "I doubt he'll allow you to be buried there. He sees you as an outlaw, whereas I see you as a resourceful and clever man."

"I'm willing to do what I can to oust him, but he is strong and cunning, and he has a lot of men backing him up." McMurdo's words were wise and well thought out. Haldane tried to slow down and do the same.

"That he does. But if you'll kill him, as my mother paid you to do already, you'll get what you want. I'll make sure of it."

"In that case, I'll kill him," McMurdo said in a deadly calm tone. Clearly, committing murder didn't ruffle his feathers.

"When we arrive at Munrick, I'm certain the MacLeod will send a large force of men to reclaim his stolen bride," Haldane said. "That will get us into Dunnakeil, and if Dirk isn't killed by the MacLeods, you'll have a clear shot at him."

"I can hardly wait. The bastard has threatened me for the last time."

A half hour later, they spotted Munrick Castle in the distance on a small promontory in a loch. Haldane smiled, almost tasting victory. He would be the next MacKay chief, and Seona Murray would be his bride.