"Do you want him to steal your inheritance?" she asked.
Aiden remained silent for a long moment, studying her. "Nay. Of course not."
"Good." Finally, he was seeing reason. "Now, Haldane, I need for you to go find Donald McMurdo and tell him to come here forthwith. Have him hide behind the church and wait for me. You'll come tell me when you've found him. Don't allow anyone else to know he's here."
"Why?" Haldane demanded.
"Because I said so." How dare he question her? She couldn't reveal all to her sons. They were too young to understand the full consequences. They had no inkling of the extremes she would go to in order to protect them and their future.
Haldane released an impatient, longsuffering breath. "What if he won't agree to it and attacks my men?"
"Tell him…" She thought for a moment, considering what he valued most. "If he doesn't do what I say, the burial place he paid a king's ransom for is forfeit, seized by the chief." She smiled at Aiden. "And I'll have McMurdo arrested for the dozen murders he's responsible for." Instead of the one he failed at.
Dirk would not be so lucky this time.
***
Later that night, Dirk was trying to sleep when something bumped the chamber door. What the devil? Was someone trying to break in? He could barely see the door in the glow from the hearth. He rose and yanked on his trews beneath his long linen shirt. Listening, he heard naught more. After lighting a candle from the coals and grabbing his dagger, he opened the door. In the corridor, the candlelight gleamed off the back of Isobel's dark hair, long and loose, hanging halfway down her back.
"Lady Isobel? What are you doing out here in the dark?" Dirk asked, holding his candle aloft. She didn't even have a candle with her.
She sucked in a sharp breath and turned. She frowned, blinked and glanced around. "Where am I? I was dreaming about…" Glancing down and seeing she was wearing nothing more than a smock, she crossed her arms over her chest. But not before he caught a tempting glimpse of generous breasts and hard nipples tenting the thin material.
Arousal surged through his body. Damnation! Her spellbinding curves made him ache.
"Were you sleepwalking?" Or was she pretending for some other purpose? Had Maighread convinced her to spy on him? Or did Isobel want to seduce him? His body quickened enthusiastically at that idea. Although he wanted to trust her, he had his doubts. She'd spent too much time with his stepmother.
"As you ken, sometimes I do traipse about in my sleep," Isobel said, shivering. "I'm not insane, truly."
"I never said you were. You're freezing. Come in and warm by the fire. I'll give you a blanket." He stood back and waited for her to enter the room.
Isobel halted just inside the door. Oh heavens, Dirk's bed sat in the corner, the covers rumpled. She didn't know she'd ventured so close to his bedchamber. Well, she knew this was his room. With little else to do, she often explored the castle when she felt restless and she had often walked by this door. But why had she come here while asleep?
"I'll go back to my room," she said. Not that she didn't want to be in his bedchamber. She certainly did. But he'd forcefully rejected her after that first kiss. She didn't want him to think she was a whorish manipulator.
He closed the door, then led her to the fireplace. "Warm yourself first. You're shivering."
She held her hands out to the glowing coals, absorbing the luxurious heat. It felt good, but not as wonderful as the warmth of Dirk's hands and body would feel. She'd missed riding behind him on the horse and being close to him. During their travels north, she'd been able to touch him several hours per day and she'd grown used to the feel of his strong body. She shuddered, craving that heat and closeness again.
"You're chilled to the bone." He wrapped an already warm woolen blanket around her shoulders. It must have been one from his bed.
She shivered again, but with delight this time. She sighed, unable to believe how protected and cozy she felt in his arms.
Losing control to the overwhelming instinct, she relaxed back against him. Not wanting him to see her need, she turned her face away, resting her cheek against his shoulder.
He stroked her hair aside, his warm fingers brushing against the cool skin beneath her ear. Tingles of bliss showered down her neck and chest.
"Och," he said low, his fingertips tarrying against her throat. "I should not touch you, Isobel."
She turned her head and faced him. "I want you to touch me," she breathed.
His blue gaze, usually piercing, now grew darkened beneath a pained frown.
She knew he desired her. Even though she was still a virgin, she was not a naïve young lass. Being a woman of five-and-twenty, she had observed men closely for years, along with their responses. Dirk was a gentleman who hid his passionate nature deep within, but his eyes were most expressive. She could almost read his thoughts. Right now, his eyes said he wanted to kiss her… as he had that first night in the stable. His passion was unleashed then, at least for a few seconds. What might she do to release it again?