Outrage sliced through Isobel. "Is the woman truly mad? How did she try to kill you the other times?"
Dirk stared into the glowing coals for a long moment. "The winter I was eight, I developed some sort of illness and fever. I was sick for days. I remember her coming into my room one night and opening the window shutters, allowing the icy air to gust into the room. I was perplexed about why she was doing that, but I was half-mad with fevered dreams and nightmares. I was too sick to arise and close the window. No servants or healers were about. She must have sent them back to their own beds. I only remember feeling cold and numb, then drifting off to comforting sleep. When I awoke, my father was shaking me violently and yelling. The room was filled with servants and clan members. They held me before the fire trying to warm me."
Isobel's throat constricted so tightly she couldn't speak and tears blurred her vision. She knew not what to say anyway. She was afraid if she opened her mouth she'd cry her eyes out. How could the woman she knew do such a cruel deed to a helpless, sick child? But she feared Dirk had seen the tears in her eyes.
He rose and paced across the library and back. "Another time when I was around ten, they told me I'd fallen and rolled down a flight of steps and hit my head on the stone floor. I only remember approaching the steps from the top and Maighread coming up behind me. I had no notion she would push me. Although I was cautious around her, I'd felt no true fear. But the memory of the rest is erased. When I awoke, my arm was broken and I was so sore all over I could hardly move. I still have the knot on the back of my head to prove it. I suspected she might have pushed me, and Uncle Conall thought that might have been the case."
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.