"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."