My Brave Highlander (27 page)

Isobel dried her eyes as fury burgeoned inside her. "How could she do something so horrible to a wee lad?" Isobel could not comprehend it. "Did you tell your father what you suspected?"

"Aye. When Uncle Conall and I told Da what she'd done, he said we were both mad. It angered him that we would accuse his sweet Maighread of such treachery. He loved her so much he was blind to her manipulations." A muscle flexed in Dirk's jaw.

"Well, given her duplicity, I'm certain my mother would've never suspected her of being so cruel and malicious to a child either. She's tricked those closest to her. Those who loved her best didn't even know her." Isobel's mother would be shocked and horrified if she knew.

"Not unless she's revealed her true nature to her sons," Dirk said. "She has an evil soul. That is the only explanation that makes sense."

"Indeed." Isobel vividly recalled her conversation with Maighread in the solar. "Earlier in the day she said you and Conall should watch your backs. So I think she is making plans."

"I expect she is. She's desperate. In her eyes, I've come to steal her son's inheritance, title, position. But I no longer fear her as I did when I was a wee, defenseless lad."

Still, Isobel worried over his safety. "You cannot be too careful."

His sharp gaze pinioned her. "I am ever vigilant."

"I know." How horrible it must be to live life that way, expecting someone to ambush him at any moment.

Isobel would do whatever it took to make sure he remained safe. She'd stick close to Maighread and pretend to dislike him so Maighread would trust her.

"I hope you'll be careful around her as well," Dirk said. "And stay away from her as much as possible."

She nodded, but planned to do the opposite. Dirk wouldn't agree for her to spy on Maighread. But she had to do something to help him, to protect him. For the first time in her life, she felt she had a purpose, a noble cause. She couldn't believe how much Dirk had come to mean to her, even if she couldn't have him for her very own.

***

Both of Maighread's sons filed into the solar, lit by firelight and a few candles. Weren't they handsome? And now, all grown up. Their father would be so proud of them. After glancing out into the corridor to make sure no one was about, she closed the door.

"I don't intend to let this imposter who calls himself Dirk steal your inheritance," she said to Aiden, keeping her voice low.

"What are you talking about, Mother? He
is
Dirk." Aiden's green eyes, so like her own, now challenged her.

Her poor naïve son. Aye, he was intelligent but she was going to have to teach him better acting skills.

"Nay. Don't tell me he has you deceived too. I thought you were a canny lad."

Aiden frowned and glanced at Haldane.

"I agree with Mother," her wise younger son said. Of course, he probably didn't remember Dirk, so no acting skills required.

Aiden did not look convinced by her lies. In fact, he looked irritable. She could not understand him.

"Do you want him to steal your inheritance?" she asked.

Aiden remained silent for a long moment, studying her. "Nay. Of course not."

"Good." Finally, he was seeing reason. "Now, Haldane, I need for you to go find Donald McMurdo and tell him to come here forthwith. Have him hide behind the church and wait for me. You'll come tell me when you've found him. Don't allow anyone else to know he's here."

"Why?" Haldane demanded.

"Because I said so." How dare he question her? She couldn't reveal all to her sons. They were too young to understand the full consequences. They had no inkling of the extremes she would go to in order to protect them and their future.

Haldane released an impatient, longsuffering breath. "What if he won't agree to it and attacks my men?"

"Tell him…" She thought for a moment, considering what he valued most. "If he doesn't do what I say, the burial place he paid a king's ransom for is forfeit, seized by the chief." She smiled at Aiden. "And I'll have McMurdo arrested for the dozen murders he's responsible for."
Instead of the one he failed at.

Dirk would not be so lucky this time.

***

Later that night, Dirk was trying to sleep when something bumped the chamber door. What the devil? Was someone trying to break in? He could barely see the door in the glow from the hearth. He rose and yanked on his trews beneath his long linen shirt. Listening, he heard naught more. After lighting a candle from the coals and grabbing his dagger, he opened the door. In the corridor, the candlelight gleamed off the back of Isobel's dark hair, long and loose, hanging halfway down her back.

"Lady Isobel? What are you doing out here in the dark?" Dirk asked, holding his candle aloft. She didn't even have a candle with her.

She sucked in a sharp breath and turned. She frowned, blinked and glanced around. "Where am I? I was dreaming about…" Glancing down and seeing she was wearing nothing more than a smock, she crossed her arms over her chest. But not before he caught a tempting glimpse of generous breasts and hard nipples tenting the thin material.

Arousal surged through his body. Damnation! Her spellbinding curves made him ache.

"Were you sleepwalking?" Or was she pretending for some other purpose? Had Maighread convinced her to spy on him? Or did Isobel want to seduce him? His body quickened enthusiastically at that idea. Although he wanted to trust her, he had his doubts. She'd spent too much time with his stepmother.

"As you ken, sometimes I do traipse about in my sleep," Isobel said, shivering. "I'm not insane, truly."

"I never said you were. You're freezing. Come in and warm by the fire. I'll give you a blanket." He stood back and waited for her to enter the room.

Isobel halted just inside the door.
Oh heavens
, Dirk's bed sat in the corner, the covers rumpled. She didn't know she'd ventured so close to his bedchamber. Well, she knew this was his room. With little else to do, she often explored the castle when she felt restless and she had often walked by this door. But why had she come here while asleep?

"I'll go back to my room," she said. Not that she didn't want to be in his bedchamber. She certainly did. But he'd forcefully rejected her after that first kiss. She didn't want him to think she was a whorish manipulator.

He closed the door, then led her to the fireplace. "Warm yourself first. You're shivering."

She held her hands out to the glowing coals, absorbing the luxurious heat. It felt good, but not as wonderful as the warmth of Dirk's hands and body would feel. She'd missed riding behind him on the horse and being close to him. During their travels north, she'd been able to touch him several hours per day and she'd grown used to the feel of his strong body. She shuddered, craving that heat and closeness again.

"You're chilled to the bone." He wrapped an already warm woolen blanket around her shoulders. It must have been one from his bed.

She shivered again, but with delight this time. She sighed, unable to believe how protected and cozy she felt in his arms.

Losing control to the overwhelming instinct, she relaxed back against him. Not wanting him to see her need, she turned her face away, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

He stroked her hair aside, his warm fingers brushing against the cool skin beneath her ear. Tingles of bliss showered down her neck and chest.

"Och," he said low, his fingertips tarrying against her throat. "I should not touch you, Isobel."

She turned her head and faced him. "I want you to touch me," she breathed.

His blue gaze, usually piercing, now grew darkened beneath a pained frown.

She knew he desired her. Even though she was still a virgin, she was not a naïve young lass. Being a woman of five-and-twenty, she had observed men closely for years, along with their responses. Dirk was a gentleman who hid his passionate nature deep within, but his eyes were most expressive. She could almost read his thoughts. Right now, his eyes said he wanted to kiss her… as he had that first night in the stable. His passion was unleashed then, at least for a few seconds. What might she do to release it again?

She turned to press the front of her body to his. He wore a long shirt and trews. The thin material could not disguise the hard muscles of his chest pressing into her breasts.

A low growl escaped his throat.

Breathing a light moan in response, she slid her arm around his trim waist. He was so tall and broad-shouldered he aroused her woman's instincts. She loved how he'd always protected her.

He pushed his fingers into her hair and stroked his thumb along her jaw, gently over her cheek. "Isobel," he said in a soft, bemused tone. "What am I going to do with you?"

"This." Reaching up, she pressed her lips to his. Sweet heaven, his lips were warm and firm.

"Mmm." His lips parted and he flicked his tongue against her lips. Instantly, need flooded her, causing her to open to him. His tongue darted into her mouth. He tasted of hot aroused male and she wanted more. She buried her hands in his hair, wishing she could climb his frame and feast upon his mouth. He was heat and flame… the only cozy warmth in this frozen landscape.

His hands on her derriere, he lifted her exactly as she wished, drawing her legs around his waist, and she locked her arms around his neck, his mouth never leaving hers. He tasted of fiery, peaty whisky, a dark earthy flavor blended with heated male.

He drew his mouth away and pressed his forehead to hers. "Mmm, you taste so sweet," he murmured.

She moaned, yearning for more kisses.

"We should not be doing this," he said.

Nay, do not stop
. She had craved this for the longest time. She had waited forever to experience passion. Fearing he would stop, she held on tighter and kissed a slow, sensual trail along his bristly cheek to his ear.

He moaned and hugged her tighter.

She wriggled against him, her sensitive, wet and tingling center rubbing against his abdomen, only linen separating them. How she wished to feel his hot flesh on hers, his hard shaft. How she wished he would lay her upon his bed, strip the clothing from her body and take her. She would welcome his invasion.

"Saints, Isobel, we must stop," he growled, then let her feet drop to the floor as he set her down.

Her knees so weak she feared she'd fall, she shook her head and held on. "I wish to please you in… whatever way you desire."

He muttered Gaelic curses and dragged her arms from around his neck.

She glared at him. He was rejecting her again, after she'd made it clear how much she wanted him.

"You drive me insane. But I cannot simply take you. Do you not know there will be consequences?"

"And what is the consequence of never knowing what it could be like between us?" she asked, frustration fueling her courage. "I know not what true passion feels like. I had hoped to find love, to find passion. But instead, my brother sends me to a man with one foot in the grave and a barbarian. 'Tis not what I wanted. My mother always said I would find true passion. Naïvely, I believed her. But perhaps I am only a foolish romantic." Dropping her tear-blurred gaze to the floor, she shook her head. "I wish I was stronger. I wish I had no heart and no dreams. Then perhaps I could be a brood mare for the MacLeod chief, and a whore to his brother as well. And if they sent me away, I could be chattel to some other chief. It would be better if I had no soul."

"Damnation, Isobel. Be quiet," Dirk growled.

"Whose body is this?" She placed her hand on her chest and looked him in the eye once again.

"Don't be ridiculous. 'Tis your body."

"But I have no say over it. I have no say over who touches or claims my body. So it must not be mine own. In truth, it is my brother's to give to whomever he sees fit."

"I didn't make the laws," Dirk muttered.

"I wish…"

Silence reigned.

Isobel's words gutted Dirk. To hear her hopes and dreams laid bare before him, such intimate thoughts. No one ever spoke to him this way. He knew not how to respond, especially since he wished more than anything that he could be the one to give her everything she wanted.

Though it made him daft, he could not resist asking. "What?"

"I wish I could do what you did… pretend I died, change my name and become someone else. Someone that no one would look for. I could be free to do what I wished."

He shook his head, letting the obvious go unspoken. She couldn't disappear and change her name without wealth of her own… or a man to take care of her.

He muttered a curse under his breath. Aye, he wanted to be the one to take care of her but… Apparently he was begging for an attack from the MacLeods. And they'd be well within their rights since he'd absconded with the chief's bride. Aye, 'twas a rescue but they'd not see it that way.

He couldn't send her back to them, especially with the brutal Nolan still alive. Not only that, he couldn't imagine her marrying the MacLeod chief, or any other man for that matter.

From the first moment he'd seen her, his gut instincts told him that she should belong to him. But he knew not how that could be. If only he'd come back earlier, or gone to her father years ago. But he hadn't, and it was too late now.