A new thought rampaged through Isobel's mind. If Seona was bound by contract to marry the chief… and Dirk became the chief… did that mean Dirk would have to marry her?
Surely not if he hadn't been in on the agreement between clans. Wouldn't any such contract be null?
Why should it matter to Isobel anyway? She wouldn't be marrying Dirk. After what he'd said last night, she knew he was a man who followed the rules and traditions of their society. He believed in honoring contracts, vows and pledges. Well, she did too normally, but the situation with the MacLeods was extreme.
Anyway, Dirk was a man of his word. No matter how much he might have enjoyed the kiss—and he had—that wasn't going to sway him. Though she had little experience with physical interaction with men, it was obvious he'd been highly aroused and near out of control. Her heartbeat sped up like a fast-galloping horse with the memory of how Dirk had kissed her in a most sensual and carnally delicious way.
"Lady Isobel?"
She jumped, almost spilling her wine. Her gaze flew to Maighread. "Aye?" Her face heated.
"Are you well?"
"Indeed." She gulped the sweet, spiced wine, hoping it would calm her nerves.
"Are you saying you truly believe this outlaw is Dirk MacKay?"
Wanting to stay on Maighread's good side so she'd trust her, she didn't want to disagree, nor did she wish to lie and go completely against Dirk. What a quandary. "Mayhap," she blurted, hoping to stay impartial.
"But you only met him once before, correct?"
"'Tis true." Still, she remembered him clearly. He was someone she'd never forget—both handsome and fearsome. At the banquet they'd had at her clan's castle, Dirk had spoken to her once. Her feet had tangled in her skirts and she'd almost toppled down the steps, but he'd caught her arm and kept her from falling.
Careful, lass, he'd said in the deep voice he'd possessed even at fifteen. Of course, his voice was even deeper now, and at times a wee bit raspy from the cold wind. The sound of it gave her heated shivers.
The first time she'd met Dirk was brief, the words few. But his lingering and curious stares were among the details she hadn't forgotten. They had both been innocent to everything then. Whatever connection lay between them had not even been an infatuation. Just instinct and curiosity.
"I'm sure you've forgotten what Dirk was like in the past dozen or so years," Maighread said.
Hardly. Isobel sent her a vague smile, unwilling to argue. "'Haps."
"Surely the MacKay clan will be wise enough to realize his duplicity," Maighread said.
"They mentioned a birthmark," Lady Patience said. "Will the clan elders put so much faith in that as proof?"
"I'm not certain. But even a birthmark could be faked." Maighread's eyes narrowed.
"How would anyone know of it, especially if Dirk supposedly died twelve years ago?" Isobel asked, hoping she was the voice of reason.
"Someone from the clan, Conall perhaps, may have gone south and found someone who resembled Dirk in coloring and used some sort of stain or red dye to mimic the birthmark. Aye. I'm certain Conall is behind this. He wants his own son, Keegan, to inherit. Conall himself is third in line to be chief, and Keegan fourth. He's using this imposter as a puppet. That must be his devious scheme."
That was a stretch. If Dirk became chief, how would Conall or Keegan become chief? But Isobel refrained from asking. Clearly the woman was desperate and deluded, grasping at such ridiculous straws. Isobel wanted to remain as close to her as possible without angering her. Then she'd learn of any nefarious plans Maighread might be cooking up against Dirk.
"If he is an imposter, what happened to the real Dirk?" Isobel asked with as much innocence and naivety as she could. "Was it an accident?"
"Aye," Maighread said. "He and his cousin were out at Faraid Head, drinking whisky. Likely they were staggering around, too close to the edge of the cliffs, and fell." Maighread shook her head. "Poor daft lads."
What a lie! It took all Isobel's strength to remain in her seat and not leap up and yell at the woman.
"As for this imposter and Conall… I won't let them get away with it, that's a certainty," Maighread said, a vindictive gleam in her green eyes. "They should watch their backs."
Chapter Fourteen
Isobel and Seona Murray made their way down the stairs toward the great hall for supper. Isobel was not entirely sure she would get along with Seona. The lass was pretty and quiet, but a slight scowl was her usual expression.
"Is something the matter, Lady Seona?" Isobel asked.
"Nay." She produced a forced smile.
"You can tell me. I won't tell anyone." Isobel lowered her voice and whispered, "Certainly not you-know-who. I ken well what it is like to live amongst a clan not your own. One that you're marrying into."
Seona nodded. "I thank you for understanding. 'Tis simply that I don't yet ken what the future holds."
"Aye, well, none of us do."
Just outside the great hall, Keegan bowed to them. "Lady Seona, Lady Isobel, how lovely you both look this eve."
"I thank you, sir." Seona curtseyed.
Isobel mirrored her actions. "Master Keegan."
"Please allow me to escort you both to the high table."
Isobel certainly didn't need an escort. Upon seeing Seona's bright blush, she realized why he was paying so much attention to them.
"You two, go ahead. I must see if I can find Lady Jessie," Isobel said as an excuse to give the two a few seconds alone.
Seona gave her a pleading look. Isobel waved her onward with a smile. After glancing around and not seeing Jessie, she followed them.
Keegan pulled out a chair for Seona and then one for Isobel. Her eyes met Dirk's for a moment, and he sent her a wee secret smile, then she seated herself beside Seona.
Once Keegan walked away, Isobel leaned in closer. "I saw that," she whispered.
"What?" Seona questioned.
"I'm thinking he is smitten with you."
"Shh." The other lady's blush was fiery as she glanced around to see who might be listening.
Isobel held back a giggle, then whispered, "He is a handsome one." Keegan resembled Dirk, so naturally he would be attractive.
"Oh, do stop, I beg of you."
Isobel grinned and glanced along the table to find Dirk observing her with much interest.
Aiden sat in the chief's larger chair—which simply didn't seem right to Isobel. And his scowling, but larger, younger brother sat beside him one chair over from Isobel. Maighread took the seat between them, and Lady Patience sat on Seona's other side. Though Isobel did not relish sitting beside the woman, if Maighread made any malicious comments about Dirk, Isobel would be more likely to hear them.
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.