"You bastard," Maighread snarled and charged him. The glint of a dagger flashed in her hand.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As Maighread charged toward Dirk, his warrior side leapt to the forefront as if he were on the battlefield, an enemy rushing him, but there was no time to unsheathe his sword.
Seeing the dirk in her hand, he instinctively grabbed her wrist and twisted, turning the blade toward her instead. When she slammed hard into him, the dagger drove deeply into her chest. She screamed like a banshee, her dark green eyes emanating evil, staring him down as if she could kill him with her glare alone.
Warm, slippery blood covered their hands and a moment later, she sagged against him, her breathing harsh but shallow.
"I curse you," she rasped. "With my last breath, I curse you."
"You cannot curse me!" He yelled into her face, determined that she hear him. "You have no power over me, witch."
He released her and let her slide to the floor, her dagger still imbedded in her chest. Given its location, the blade had missed her heart, but it must have damaged her vitals badly for she was unconscious in mere moments… and dead within a minute.
"Good riddance," Cyrus growled.
Dirk was simply trying to catch his breath and calm himself after the surge of alarm combined with his battle instincts taking over and spurring him to quick action. He inhaled deeply. "Aye." He stared at her, hardly able to believe the person who had wanted to kill him for most of his life was dead. He was finally free of her evil influence. Forever.
"She got what she deserved," Rebbie said, laying a hand on Dirk's shoulder. "She was a murderess. The only reason she didn't kill more people was because she wasn't exceedingly good at it."
"Not for lack of trying," Dirk muttered, wishing she'd died years ago so she couldn't have poisoned Isobel and Aiden.
Now, he simply prayed they would recover.
***
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Dirk observed Isobel's flushed, slumbering face in the wee hours of the morning. One candle lit her chamber to a dim glow in the darkest night. Beitris snored on her pallet before the fireplace, but Dirk couldn't sleep. His whole life hung in the balance, just as Isobel's did.
Watching her thrash about and moan during the past several hours had near ripped his heart from his chest. He wished he could take all of her pain upon himself.
I love you, Isobel.
What if he never got to say those words to her while she was fully aware and conscious? He now realized that to hear those words coming from her lips was his fondest wish. Holding her hand, he stroked his thumb across her small palm, savoring her silky warm skin.
She had to live, she simply had to. But what if she didn't?
God, he could barely breathe when he imagined it.
"Nay. You must recover, Isobel," he whispered and pressed his forehead against the back of her hand.
She wiggled about and groaned in her sleep, then muttered words he couldn't decipher.
He yearned to see her smile and laugh again, to listen to her teasing, playful whispers in his ear. He could imagine nothing better than living out his days with her.
Now he understood why all those tragic love ballads contained so much pain and sadness. The mere thought of losing her gutted him. He'd rather die himself.
Moaning, she shifted about restlessly as if struggling against someone.
"Come back to me, Isobel," he whispered and touched her face gently with his other hand, stroking her smooth, overheated skin. "Stay with me."
She captured his hand in hers and held it possessively against her cheek. She calmed and slept peacefully, her breaths deep and even.
He said a prayer of thanks and made a plea for her life.
Closing his eyes, he imagined what it would be like to marry her, to seal their vows with a kiss before everyone, proclaiming her his permanently.
"How is she?" the whisper came from behind him sometime later.
Dirk turned to find Rebbie with his head stuck in the doorway. "She's been sleeping. Is it dawn already?" No light shown through the window.
"About six. Have you slept?"
"Nay, I'm not sleepy." He had to be sure Isobel was truly well before he would allow himself to sleep. He couldn't lose her.
Rebbie frowned. "You look exhausted."
"It matters not. What matters is that Isobel and Aiden recover fully."
"I'm certain they will."
"How is Aiden?"
"Sleeping peacefully."
Dirk nodded. "Thank God."
After sunrise, Jessie, Nannag, and a few female servants came and went, checking on Isobel while she slept soundly, also bringing him porridge, oatcakes, and other things to eat. His stomach knotted too much for him to eat more than a few bites.
Around mid-day, the room was quiet and empty but for Dirk and Isobel. She opened her eyes and glanced around the room.