My Brave Highlander(87)

"And you're a widow. We both ken what goes on betwixt a man and a woman in the bedchamber."

"Indeed." Did she ever! She would never be the same after experiencing such passion and intensity. Now she knew who had all the fun. Wanton women. No wonder they always looked so smug and happy.

"Well?" Jessie prompted.

"That is to say… I ken now… for a certainty."

Jessie frowned. "What does that mean?"

"My former husband and I didn't… have relations. He was unable." Isobel held up a hand. "Before you say anything, I wanted to know what it was like. I had to know, truly, what happened during the coupling. I'm five-and-twenty, after all."

Jessie gaped. "Last night was the first time for you?"

"Aye."

"But Dirk is injured."

"Do you think that matters to a man? He dragged me into bed with him."

Jessie sucked in a quick breath, her blue gaze sharpening, so like her brother's. "How dare he!"

"Nay, I did not wish to object." Isobel smiled as heat washed over her.

"You enjoyed it?" Jessie asked in a skeptical tone.

"Aye, 'twas far more amazing than I could've ever imagined."

"Amazing? I would never call it amazing." Jessie grimaced as she paced back and forth.

"Your experiences were not good?"

"Nay. My husband—if you can call him that—in my temporary marriage was annoying."

"Why did you enter into a temporary marriage?" Isobel knew they were commonplace in the Highlands, but rarely did they benefit the woman.

"My father arranged it with a prominent chief to the southeast. As you ken, such a marriage is for a year and a day. If the woman is with child at the end of that time, the couple will most likely wed in truth. If there is no child, the couple can either marry or part ways. I was not with child, so we both chose to part ways. A chief must always have an heir. If the woman is barren, he can send her back to her family and find a more fertile wife. But we only had relations three times during that year. I'm thinking that was not enough." She shrugged. "Not that I wanted him to bed me more than that."

"But you are a beautiful woman. How could he only want you three times?"

"He found another lass more to his liking. They are now in a temporary marriage. He'll probably tire of her in a few months. Men are fickle."

"I hope not all men are." Indeed, what if Dirk tired of her? But what did it matter, since they weren't in any sort of marriage, temporary or otherwise?

"I haven't been around my brother much since we were bairns so I couldn't say if he is fickle or not. If he is canny, he will marry you."

A thrill raced through Isobel at the thought. "I would like that, but I don't want a man who is forced to marry me. He should do it because he wants to. The bigger problem is I'm already betrothed to someone else."

Jessie nodded and sat down on a stool near the hearth. "I ken it. What is he like?"

"Torrin MacLeod is a nice enough looking man—brown hair, green eyes, almost thirty summers. But he is in love with a village lass, 'haps the daughter of a crofter, and has children with her. At least that's what his knave of a brother told me. The clan will not allow him to marry her. He but wanted to marry me for the three hundred acres in my dowry. And 'haps for an heir."

"What a horse's arse," Jessie grumbled.

"His brother is even worse." She'd already told Jessie about the incident at Munrick and how she'd near bashed in Nolan's head.

"Men think women are naught but animals for breeding purposes," Jessie said. "What we want matters not at all. I don't care if I never marry. Likely, I'd be happier staying here with my family."

"Aye, 'tis true. My brother wouldn't allow me to stay home any longer. He's unfeeling and harsh at times, but protective of the clan."

"When Dirk becomes chief, he'd best not try to make me marry some grouchy old bastard," Jessie said.

Isobel snickered. "You are more like your brother than you realize."

Jessie gave a sheepish grin. "I suppose so. Are you ready for the hearing? I hope Dirk will officially be appointed chief soon, but I fear Maighread will do something to stop him."

***

"Well, look at you, chief," Rebbie said as soon as Dirk left his bedchamber and stepped into the corridor.

"What?" Dirk asked, wondering if Rebbie had also been here when Isobel had exited a short while ago. He hoped not.

"You look like a true Highlander now with that belted plaid and no trews to hide those hairy calves."

"Kiss my arse." Dirk strode away, the two-handed Highland sword strapped to his back thumping against his hip.