Текст книги "My brave highlander"

Автор книги: Vonda Sinclair

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Once Dirk found the young maid, Anne MacFarlane, who had gone into Maighread's room the night before, he had her escorted into the library where the clan elders, along with Conall, Keegan and Dirk sat around the table. Considering the pasty color of her skin and her wide-eyed gaze darting this way and that, she was sufficiently scared. Dirk was glad, for he needed the truth.

"Anne, did Lady MacKay give you a missive to take to her son, Haldane?" Dirk asked.

It sounded as if Anne's breath stopped for a moment as she stared at her toes. He hoped she didn't faint.

"If you don't answer truthfully, you'll be imprisoned in the dungeon." Dirk hated to frighten any woman, but the clan's safety depended on the information she would reveal.

"Aye," Anne admitted. "She told me to tell no one. If she finds out I've told you, she'll release me from my position."

"If you're loyal to me and the clan, I'll hire you. If you're a traitor, you'll be treated as such. Aside from that, Lady MacKay won't be needing any maids. She's under arrest and soon she'll be transported to Thurso for a trial."

"Oh."

"So you have naught to lose by telling us the truth. What did the missive say?"

"I can't read, m'laird. But she said to let no one see the missive and to slip it to one of her guards. I was to tell him to take it outside the castle walls, find her son and give it to him."

"And did you do this?"

"Aye."

Dirk wished she hadn't. "As you ken, this led to two MacKay guards' deaths."

Anne's eyes filled with tears. "I am sorry. I didn't know what was in the missive or why she wished me to deliver it. She hired me to do her bidding and that's what I was doing."

"If you want to stay out of the dungeon, you will tell us everything you know about Lady MacKay and her devious plots."

"She said if Aiden didn't want to be chief, that Haldane would. She'd see to it."

He should've guessed she'd never give up. "Where did she send those men when they went south? Did she mention the MacLeods?"

"I heard her whispering to Haldane a few days ago that if anything happened to her, to ride south to the MacLeods and tell them Isobel MacKenzie is being held hostage here."

Dirk nodded. He'd suspected as much, but 'twas good to have confirmation.

"And he was to tell them to bring a large force of men to help him take Dunnakeil from the imposter."

"I see." Would MacLeod do as Haldane asked and help him take over Dunnakeil? Not if he was intelligent, but the man might be desperate to reclaim his beautiful bride. He'd no doubt bring every able-bodied MacLeod to help.

Dirk had the maid locked in a separate room, where she could no longer come within reach of Maighread. Then, he stopped by Maighread's chamber.

"Bring Lady MacKay to the library," he told her two guards. "Tie her hands in front of her first."

"Aye, m'laird."

A quarter hour later, they escorted her into the library.

Dirk, Conall, Keegan and the clan elders sat around the table. They'd left one chair vacant for his stepmother, wearing widow's black. Her green-eyed glare was more venomous than usual, but her gray hair and increasing wrinkles reminded him she was but a mortal woman. Not some everlasting female demon who had tortured and endeavored to kill him from the time he was a lad.

"How dare you imprison me in my own home?" she seethed at Dirk.

Ignoring her question, he got right to the point. "Two more murders are on your head. Both MacKays. The guards."

"I have murdered no one." She was less sanctimonious this time, and closer to boiling with rage.

"I doubt Haldane is bright enough to do all this scheming, plus organizing a dungeon break."

"You have no proof of anything," she sneered.

He gave her a forced smile. "We have witnesses."

"Who? Aiden? He is too naïve to know anything."

"Nay, not Aiden. It matters not how we know. You sent Haldane and the other men to the MacLeods. 'Tis hard to believe you'd betray your friend's daughter in such a way."

"Isobel MacKenzie is nothing like her mother. She's naught but a light-skirt whore."

Fury clawed its way through Dirk's vitals, tensing his muscles, making him want to unsheathe his sword. "If you were a man, I'd strike you down for that," he growled.

"I knew you were smitten with her—a woman who's all but married to another man. How dimwitted can you be? Now you'll have to answer to the MacLeod for kidnapping her."

Dirk snorted. "The MacKay clan knows I didn't kidnap her. That's all that matters."

The elders nodded, eying Maighread with suspicion.

"Well, now that you've bedded her, 'tis doubtful the MacLeod will want her," Maighread said in a nasty tone.

"Won't do him any good if he does. He's not getting her," Dirk said.

"I hope they rain fire on this keep and burn it to the ground!" Maighread said. "Then at least an imposter won't get it."

***

Nolan MacLeod sat in Munrick's great hall, eating venison stew with his brother, Torrin—the MacLeod chief—and their guests, the MacKenzies. Cyrus MacKenzie, Isobel's brother, reminded Nolan of a dark warlord who wouldn't mind taking off anyone's head, and Nolan didn't want to cross the bastard.

Torrin had sent Cyrus a missive that Isobel had run madly out into a snowstorm and disappeared. Cyrus had been irate, demanding answers when he'd arrived with his brothers and several men the day before. Why wasn't his sister protected and taken care of while she'd been here? Where was she? Why hadn't the MacLeods searched for her? Torrin blamed himself, but he was at a loss as to what happened since he hadn't been here at the time.

Nolan didn't know why Torrin had allowed the MacKenzies to gain entrance. If it had been Nolan's decision, he would've left them beyond the walls to freeze.

At the moment, no one paid any attention to Nolan, and he was glad. He had to keep a low profile since the place was crawling with MacKenzies. Fortunately, no one else in the clan knew why Isobel had left. Nolan was the only one. He smiled inwardly. They would never know what happened. 'Twas a pity because of her lush beauty, but Isobel was probably dead. Her own fault for knocking him on the head, running away and facing the harsh elements.

A guard rushed in and approached the center of the high table where the chief sat. "Ten men from the MacKay clan are at the gates, m'laird."

"What do they want?" Torrin asked, putting down his ale cup.

"To speak to you, the man betrothed to Isobel MacKenzie. They claim to know where she is."

"Saints!" Isobel's brother shot from his chair, leapt from the dais and rounded the table. "Where is she?" he demanded.

The guard backed up two steps. "I know not, Chief MacKenzie. Should we allow them inside the gates?" His gaze darted to Torrin.

"I'm coming." Torrin stepped down from the dais, grabbed his wool mantle and followed Cyrus' swift trek across the great hall.

They'd found Isobel? After donning his mantle, Nolan followed his brother. Dread twisted his gut into an aching knot. If she was alive and well, she might tell Torrin, Cyrus and everyone else what Nolan had tried to do to her. Damn her. Why couldn't she have frozen to death?

It would be her word against his. Torrin would believe him, his own brother, over Isobel, surely.

At the same time, excitement rushed through Nolan at the thought of seeing the dark-eyed lass again. She'd bewitched him with her seductive looks and curvy body. He couldn't get her out of his head. He still wanted her, even though he was tempted to strangle her for injuring him.

If she told on him, he would, of a certainty, have to kill her.

Outside in the bailey, sleet and rain hissed through the air as they made their way to the portcullis over the narrow arm of the loch. Guards held torches and lanterns.

"Who are you?" Torrin asked the young, auburn-haired man at the forefront of the visitors beyond the iron bars.

"Haldane MacKay, son of Chief Griff MacKay, may God rest his soul."

"Griff MacKay is dead?" Cyrus asked.

"Aye, just over a month ago."

"I'm sorry to hear of it. You ken where my sister is?"

"If Isobel MacKenzie is your sister, aye. Dirk MacKay took her hostage."

Silence reigned for a moment as the men exchanged frowns.

"Dirk MacKay is dead," Torrin said. "And has been for over a decade."

"Aye," Haldane said. "This man is an imposter claiming to be Dirk MacKay. He's taken over the clan and castle and imprisoned my mother. And he has taken Lady Isobel hostage. He has used her ill and abused her."

"This is an outrage!" Cyrus said. "Who is he in truth?"

"We know not."

"I'll kill the bastard, whoever he is," Torrin muttered.

"And I'll help you," Cyrus said.

Haldane gave a sly grin and Nolan wondered what he was up to. Was any of this true?

One of the MacLeod guards spoke up. "A MacKay and a party of four passed through here a fortnight ago."

"Who was with him?" Torrin demanded.

"A woman he said was his wife, a man named MacInnis, and two servants. The MacKay man claimed his father was on his deathbed and he had to make haste."

"That's him. His friend is MacInnis," Haldane said.

Torrin muttered a string of curses, then asked the guard, "Did you get a look at the woman he said was his wife?"

"Nay, 'twas snowing. Nasty weather, and she was shrouded in wool blankets to keep warm."

"If that was Isobel, why would she say naught nor ask for the help of the MacLeod guards if she'd truly been taken hostage by MacKay?" Cyrus asked, narrowing his eyes at Torrin.

"That's what I'd like to know, but I wasn't here," Torrin growled.

"She fled Munrick for some reason. My sister is not daft. She would not have left here during a storm unless she felt her life was in danger. I want the truth from you and your clan," Cyrus demanded.

Rigid with suppressed rage, Torrin turned, his gaze landing on Nolan. "What happened while I was gone, brother? You were supposed to be watching over the clan and my betrothed."

A second of icy fear sliced through Nolan. No one could suspect him. "Naught that I know of. She simply vanished one night. We thought she'd changed her mind about marrying you."

"Nay, there had to be a reason," Cyrus said, his shrewd devil-dark eyes making Nolan squirm. "She agreed to marry Torrin. She would not simply change her mind. Something happened here."

"What are you not telling us, Nolan?" Torrin demanded.

"I've told you all I know." Stay calm, he told himself.

The two chiefs glared at him several moments longer and sweat broke out over his whole body, despite the chill wind.

Torrin turned back to Haldane. "Who do you have with you?"

"My friends, MacKays mostly, and two of my mother's guards."

"If you leave your weapons at the gate, you may stay the night," Torrin said. "We'll leave in the morn and rescue Lady Isobel."

***

The sky was overcast and the frigid wind whipping at a steady rate at Dunnakeil two days later when the skirl of bagpipes playing a call to battle from the roof of the guard tower alerted the MacKays something was amiss.

Dirk strode from the stables. The men knew what to do when the MacLeods arrived. He'd been training them for over a week. All wore armor and carried weapons as they gathered in the inner bailey.

"Halt!" one of his guards yelled from the guard tower.

Dirk hurried forward to see how many men had arrived and whether an attack was being launched.

Once Dirk reached the gates, he only saw two well-armed men of about his own age, garbed in plaid, armor and wool mantles. He hadn't seen these two in over twelve years, but he recognized them. The dark-haired one was Isobel's brother, Cyrus MacKenzie, and the other, with lighter brown hair, was her betrothed, Torrin MacLeod.

"We're here to see Dirk MacKay," Cyrus told the guard, then his gaze swung to Dirk. "What have you done to my sister, you blackguard?"

Holding a targe before him—in case someone decided to shoot an arrow or fire a pistol—and carrying a broadsword, Dirk approached the gates, his bodyguards Erskine and Keegan joining him. "She's well and safe. Far safer than she was with the MacLeods." Dirk glared at Torrin.

"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."

What? Isobel didn't know whether to be shocked, thrilled or perturbed. Or all three. Why hadn't one of them told her? Typical of her brother to keep her in the dark, but what about Dirk? He could've at least taken a brief moment to let her know they would be married.