My Brave Highlander(59)

She wouldn't have called the room a library for, although there was one bookcase, it contained no books. Just some loose parchments and rolled documents. The window was tall and narrow with a splendid view of the bay in the gloaming.

"Have a seat." Dirk motioned toward a carved, regal-looking chair by the hearth where a peat fire burned.

"'Tis your chair. I cannot possibly—"

"Nay. 'Tis no one's chair at the moment."

She sat on the chair's worn blue velvet cushion and held her hands closer to the fire. "I'm certain they'll name you chief at the hearing." They were mad if they didn't. She had never met a man more suited to be a chief.

"I'm hoping they will. And I'm relieved that Aiden doesn't truly wish to be chief. If he did, this would be much harder." He turned one of the chairs at the table and carried it closer to the hearth for himself.

"I'm certain of it." She admired the close bond between Dirk and his younger brother and loved the thought that Dirk didn't wish to hurt the lad. "His gift is music rather than leadership."

"Indeed. As you know, Haldane went to retrieve his mother."

She nodded, remembering the young man's scathing response to her. She'd be happy if she never had to face him again. He was a menace.

"You know Maighread Gordon, of course," Dirk said.

"Aye. Since she and my mother were friends, she came to visit a few times when I was growing up. My mother thought highly of her."

"She can have a charming façade at times, but it hides one of the most cunning and evil minds I've yet seen."

"I know she tried to kill you."

Dirk's eyes narrowed. "Who told you?"

"Your aunt, Effie. She warned me to be careful."

"I want to warn you of the same thing. My stepmother may appear friendly and kind on the surface but, to be sure, she is always scheming for her two sons."

"'Tis hard for me to imagine," she said. At his lifted brow of skepticism, she added, "But I believe you."

"I know her only too well. I can easily imagine what she'll do when she arrives."

"What?"

"First, she will try to discredit me, and then she will try to murder me again. Or rather, she'll hire someone."

Isobel expected the same, but still, the blood in her veins ran cold. She nodded. Though she knew not how, given that she was a woman, not a trained warrior, but she had to protect Dirk. Or at least watch his back. She would find out if Maighread was truly the one who'd tried to have Dirk killed or whether it was someone else. How could a mother, a caring friend to Isobel's mother, make a plan to kill her stepson, an honorable man? Did she have a hidden madness?

"How did she try to murder you before? I know you don't wish to speak of it, but I'll feel better prepared if I know more about how she operates."

A pained shadow passed over Dirk's clear blue gaze. He rose and paced from one side of the dim room to the other. He paused at the window and stared out over Balnakeil Bay.

"I had ridden out to the cliffs at Faraid Head with my cousin, Will," he said. "We were about the same age. Da had sent us to watch for approaching galleys. He was awaiting a shipment of supplies from Glasgow. 'Twas summer and we were to stay the night. Will and I were going to take turns keeping watch. But while I was asleep, someone attacked him. I awoke to sounds of sword fighting and Will calling my name. Because of the short nights in summer, 'twas late but still gloaming. Someone—a man—dressed in black shoved Will off the cliff's edge before I could get to them. I was in shock. My cousin was my best friend—like a brother to me. 'Twas too late. There was naught I could do to help him."

"Oh, Dirk." Isobel's heart ached for him. She could only imagine the shock and grief of losing a best friend and family member while also in danger herself.

"The murdering bastard wore a deep cowl over his head and I couldn't see his face in the dimness. I didn't recognize his sword or clothing. He advanced toward me, swinging his sword. I was fairly well-trained with the sword, but he was better. He was a man in his prime—tall, broad of shoulder, much bigger than I was at the time. I fought hard for several minutes. I'd never before seen battle and that was the first time I'd truly wanted to kill someone. But all my rage and determination were for naught. I made a misstep and he disarmed me, flinging my sword away. Just before he shoved me off the edge of the cliff, he said, 'Lady MacKay sends her regards.'"

"How terrible," Isobel said, swiping the tears from her eyes. Her heart broke for him. He'd been so young and vulnerable. "How did you survive?"

"I slid down the cliff and a sharp rocky crag plowed into my back and caught my plaid. I was in so much pain I didn't realize what had happened at first… that I was safe for the moment and alive. I was able to climb onto a rocky ledge. The murderer couldn't see me. I was about fifteen feet down. He must have thought I'd fallen onto the rocks in the sea below, then he left."