"We're here to see Dirk MacKay," Cyrus told the guard, then his gaze swung to Dirk. "What have you done to my sister, you blackguard?"
Holding a targe before him—in case someone decided to shoot an arrow or fire a pistol—and carrying a broadsword, Dirk approached the gates, his bodyguards Erskine and Keegan joining him. "She's well and safe. Far safer than she was with the MacLeods." Dirk glared at Torrin.
"What do you mean?" Cyrus demanded.
"Ask his brother, Nolan MacLeod."
"What about Nolan?" Torrin asked.
"He tried to rape Isobel," Dirk said.
"Why, that bastard," Cyrus growled and looked as if he might slay Torrin on the spot in his brother's stead. "How could you let this happen? I trusted you to take care of my sister."
"I knew naught of this." Torrin turned and narrowed his eyes at Dirk. "How did you find out?"
"Did Nolan not tell you she left Munrick in a snowstorm?" Dirk asked.
"Aye, but he said he didn't know why."
Dirk snorted. "Well, of course, he doesn't want you to ken he aimed to rape your future wife."
Torrin frowned, looking mightily troubled and glaring back toward where his men were gathered.
"Did you bring Nolan with you?" Dirk asked.
"Aye, the bastard is there, waiting with the others," Cyrus said through clenched teeth. "And I'm going to kill him."
"Remain calm," Torrin snapped. "We have no proof of this."
"I don't need proof! If my sister says 'tis so, then it is."
"We haven't yet had the chance to ask her. Question is… how did MacKay know of all this?" Torrin asked with suspicion, his green eyes narrowed at Dirk.
"I was traveling through Assynt with a friend to return home. That's when we found Lady Isobel and her maid on the trail. Snow was pouring down hard and the wind was cold. We helped them find shelter for the night, then brought them here to keep them safe until the sea was right for sailing. My plan was to bring her south to you, MacKenzie, on a galley so as to keep her away from Nolan MacLeod." Dirk scowled at Torrin.
"I'm going to talk to that knave now," Cyrus said, drawing his sword and starting back the way he'd come.
"I will," Torrin said, following Cyrus. "He's my brother. I'll deal with him." Torrin strode quickly toward the field where two dozen men waited, about half of them the MacKay prisoners who'd escaped, with Haldane in front. All on stolen horses.
"Hmph." Cyrus returned to stand before the portcullis but glared after Torrin. "If he lets that bastard go…" he said through clenched teeth.
"Would you care to come inside and talk?" Dirk asked, glad he could speak with Cyrus without Torrin about. "You can see your sister and verify for yourself she is well."
"I'd like that." Cyrus sheathed his sword.
"Open the gates for Chief MacKenzie only," Dirk ordered. "No one else."
He even allowed the MacKenzie to keep his weapons. Surely he wouldn't try anything, outnumbered several dozen to one.
Upon entering the great hall, they came face to face with Isobel. Seeing her always gave Dirk a jolt of need.
"Isobel. Saints!" Cyrus pulled her to him for a rough hug, then clasping her shoulders, held her at arms' length and gave her a hard look. "You gave me a fright, disappearing like that. Are you hurt?"
"Nay, not now. I thank you, brother." Isobel smiled.
"Not now? What does that mean?" Cyrus demanded. "Were you injured?"
"Only my finger. Did Chief MacKay tell you what happened?" Isobel's bewitching gaze darted to Dirk and sent his thoughts scattering. He hadn't touched her in several days, and he craved her more each day.
"Aye, some of it. I want to talk to you both in private. I want to know every detail. This Nolan MacLeod is a whoreson knave."
"We'll go into the library," Dirk said, motioning for Isobel to precede them.
She led the way and once the three of them were in the library, Dirk closed the door.
"How did you know where I was?" Isobel asked her brother as they sat down at the table.
"While Torrin was in Lairg, his brother, Nolan, apparently sent a messenger telling him that you had disappeared. Torrin immediately sent me a missive from Lairg, telling me you'd fled into a snowstorm and hopefully you would make it back to me in Dornie. I set out traveling north with our brothers and my men, hoping I'd run into you on the trail before you died from the elements. I still hadn't found you by the time I reached Munrick. I was there when Haldane MacKay arrived to tell us you were here."
"Oh." Isobel truly looked contrite. "I'm sorry to put you through so much trouble."
"Don't fash yourself over it. I simply wanted to find you safe, and thanks to MacKay, you are. Now, I want to know what this Nolan MacLeod did," Cyrus said.
Isobel gave him the same details she'd given Dirk on their journey here about the attempted rape and how they'd fought. The knave had broken her finger and she'd knocked him on the head with a stoneware jug.
"Good for you, sister. I cannot believe I trusted those bastards." Cyrus sat back in his chair.
"I cannot marry Torrin MacLeod now. You must know that."
"Aye, of course not. As long as his brother lives, he would be a danger to you."
A surge of relief rushed through Dirk. Now, he but had to get Cyrus's permission to marry Isobel. Would he agree to the arrangement?
"I thank you for understanding," Isobel said.
"Let me see your broken finger."
She held it out to Cyrus. She'd put the splint on again, Dirk noticed, after he'd fussed at her about not wearing it when she was bathing him. Och. He had to put that experience from his mind or he'd end up getting aroused at a very bad time.
"Who set it?" Cyrus asked.
"Laird MacKay and his friend, Laird Rebbinglen, did a splendid job on it. It is healing well." Isobel glanced at Dirk, her eyes dark and tempting as a siren. Though it had been hellishly difficult, he'd stayed away from her as much as possible over the last several days. He needed to make sure she was his and no one else's before they indulged too many times betwixt the sheets. 'Twas far too easy to become addicted to her and want her five times a day.
"Were you hurt in any other way?" her brother asked.
"I had a bruise on my face and a knot on the back of my head from the scuffle with Nolan, but it was not terribly painful."
"The bastard," Cyrus muttered under his breath, then turned to Dirk. "I thank you, Chief MacKay, for helping my sister." He held his hand out and Dirk shook it.
"My pleasure. And please, call me Dirk." He faced Isobel. "If you would give us a moment in private, Lady Isobel."
She sent him a suspicious and curious narrow-eyed look. "Very well." She exited, closing the door behind her.
Would she eavesdrop outside the door again as she had when he and Conall had talked? Dirk slipped to the door and opened it, finding her a few feet away, along with Erskine, guarding him. He gave Isobel a pointed look. She rolled her eyes and disappeared down the short corridor toward the great hall.
"Don't let her near the door," he murmured to Erskine. "I don't want her eavesdropping."
"Aye, chief."
Dirk closed the door and joined Cyrus at the table. "I need to ask something of you," Dirk said, sudden nerves seizing him. He had never done this before, nor had he witnessed anyone else making such a grand request. He hoped he would do it right.