My Brave Highlander(68)

During supper, tension permeated the air so strongly Isobel could hardly concentrate on her food—venison stew and bread, and then a course of roasted grouse, onions and parsnips. The few times Isobel had snuck a look at Maighread, the older woman had been glaring swords and daggers at Dirk. He'd sent a few dangerous looks his stepmother's way as well.

Maighread murmured something to Haldane, but it was so low Isobel couldn't hear with the roar of conversation in the great hall. What were they plotting?

Dirk talked quietly to his uncle and Laird Rebbinglen. Wide-eyed and fidgety, Aiden watched those around him. He appeared out of place and uneasy with the situation, especially since his mother's arrival. The previous nights, he'd been much more relaxed and eager for the music to begin so he could join in the fun.

When next she glanced at Dirk, his gaze was on her, shifting between her and Maighread with curiosity and concern, perhaps even annoyance. Surely he wasn't angry with her. Did he miss her sitting beside him as she had the nights before? She hoped so. Would he again escape to the stables, and if so, should she follow? Would he want her to?

Once supper was over, one of the musicians played a ballad and another joined him in song.

"I'm exhausted from all the travel," Maighread said to Isobel. "I think I'll retire early."

"We will too," Patience said, rising.

"I'd rather stay a bit longer," Seona said.

"Nay, young lady. Off to bed with you now."

Seona exhaled an annoyed breath, rose and followed her aunt.

"I'm not yet finished with my tart," Isobel said. Though she knew she should follow Maighread everywhere to learn her secrets, she craved staying near Dirk a while longer.

"Good night. I'll see you in the morn," Seona said.

The three excused themselves and left the room.

Isobel slowly ate her sweet fig tart, wondering how she might find an opportunity to be alone with Dirk for a few minutes.

His eyes kept straying to her now and again. She noticed he had eaten half his tart, but the remainder sat on his trencher, forgotten. Hmm, mayhap he was changing and starting to enjoy sweet things. She relished this tart almost as much as she had his kiss. On second thought, his kiss was far more delectable, and she couldn't wait for another one.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his thick arms over his chest. She recalled vividly how hard with muscle they were. During the kiss, he'd easily picked her up and pressed her against the stable wall while consuming her mouth with lustful heat.

Startling her from her musing, he rose abruptly from the table. She enjoyed watching the way his body moved, with such confidence and strength. When he edged in behind her chair, she held her breath, her heart rate shooting toward the stars.

"M'lady, might I have a word in the library?" he murmured too low for anyone else to hear, especially given the music and song echoing in the room.

"Aye." Cramming the last bite of tart into her mouth, she rose. He waited for her to precede him down a narrow corridor and into the library. He motioned to a chair and she sat, while he leaned against the edge of the substantial table occupying the center of the room. The fire in the hearth had burned down to coals and cinders but the room was still warm. Not that she was cold. The opposite, in fact. She felt overheated and flushed.

"You seem tight with Maighread," Dirk said in a mildly accusatory tone.

Isobel shrugged. Should she tell him she was trying to spend as much time as possible with the woman to find out if she was plotting against him? She was afraid he wouldn't like that. He might think it was too dangerous.

"Maighread and my mother were friends, as you know," she said vaguely.

He nodded. Eyes narrowed, he studied her. "Who was your first husband?"

"The Earl of Jedwarth." Why was he asking now? Her stomach knotted. Did he think her mad for marrying such an old man? She'd had little choice in the matter. Short of running away, like she did this time, she couldn't have escaped the marriage. Her brother had told her he'd no longer support her financially if she didn't marry to establish clan alliances. She didn't know if it was a true threat, or if he was only trying to coerce her. Cyrus was not known for his compassion.

"That's what I thought Maighread meant when she called you Lady Jedwarth." Dirk turned away and paced before the hearth. "Why did you not tell me?" Frowning, he observed her again.

"I don't like being called Lady Jedwarth. I'm no longer married to the man and every time someone calls me that, I cringe inside. I think of him and… the months, weeks and days before his death. Even though I didn't love him, it was an extremely taxing time. I want to move forward and think about the future. Surely something better awaits."