"Aye, what is it?"
"I ask you…" Dirk cleared his throat. "I request Lady Isobel's hand in marriage."
Chapter Twenty-Four
"What?" Cyrus's dark brows lowered, giving him the look of a thunderous warlord. "You want to marry Isobel?"
"Aye," Dirk said, feeling the restless urge to spring from his chair and pace the library. "If her betrothal to MacLeod is off, I would like to marry her."
"Why?" her brother asked in a hard tone.
"Well… many reasons." Dirk's stomach knotted and he hoped he didn't get tongue-tied. "She is the loveliest lass I've yet laid eyes on. I'm newly a chief, and the clan elders are already dogging me about finding a bride." Those were two valid reasons—the least important ones he could think of, but he couldn't simply blurt out that he'd already bedded Isobel and that he was falling in love with her. Or, worst of all, that she might already be carrying his bairn. No brother would want to hear that.
Cyrus eyed him shrewdly. "I ken she's a widow, but have you compromised her?"
Hell, was it that obvious? "In truth, I have," Dirk admitted, shamed that he had little around Isobel, but at the same time, not truly regretting their astounding intimate encounters. "I hope you will not hold it against me."
The MacKenzie's jaw clenched and his face hardened. "Damned if having a beautiful sister isn't hell on earth," he grumbled.
"I apologize for my lack of restraint. But I do care for her… a great deal."
"I can see that. And you protected her well." Cyrus studied him. "You know, this younger brother of yours—Haldane—claimed you're an imposter. I remember hearing that you had an accident and died many years ago. But you are the Dirk I remember. What happened?"
Dirk explained how he'd had to leave Durness twelve years ago and why.
"Your stepmother is still trying to kill you?"
"Aye. I assume that's why she sent her son to the MacLeods. Hoping they'd come down hard on me for rescuing Lady Isobel, claiming I'd stolen her or taken her hostage."
"The MacLeods had best not say a word to you or they'll have me to answer to," Cyrus growled. "I still may skewer that Nolan worm. Any man who injures a woman, or tries to force her, is lower than the sod beneath my feet."
"We're in agreement on that."
"I think we agree on a lot of things. I'll consider it an honor to be your brother-in-law." Cyrus offered his hand for a hearty shake.
Dirk was pleased beyond measure. "I thank you, and likewise. I'll take care of your sister and protect her with my life."
"Och. You're a good man, MacKay." Cyrus shook his head. "She'll need your protection. The lass gets into more scrapes than the dirty-faced village lads."
Dirk grinned.
"I'd like to talk to Isobel for a moment to see if she's in agreement," Cyrus said. "I'm sure she will be, considering that doe-eyed look she gave you. And then I'll have to deal with the MacLeods."
Dirk nodded. "I'll send her in." He opened the door and proceeded into the corridor.
"Chief," Erskine said. "The MacLeod is demanding entrance. He wishes to talk to you and Chief MacKenzie right away about his brother."
***
"Would you and your men be willing to help me capture our escaped prisoners, including Haldane and McMurdo?" Dirk asked Cyrus as they proceeded across the bailey. "They're murderers and horse thieves, the lot of them."
"Aye, I'll be glad to, and Nolan MacLeod can be among them for all I care."
"I'd prefer to strangle the bastard," Dirk muttered, once again envisioning Isobel's broken finger, the bruise on her face and how much pain she'd been in.
"I'll help." Cyrus gave an evil grin. "But first we need to see what Torrin MacLeod wishes to speak to us about and find out what he's going to do about his brother."
Approaching the portcullis, Dirk saw that Torrin MacLeod waited there alone, a grim scowl on his face, his shoulders tense.
"Aye. What did you want to tell us?" Dirk asked.
"I spoke to Nolan."
"What did the coward say?" Cyrus asked.
"He said he didn't touch Lady Isobel and claims he's insulted that I'd accuse him of such."
"He's lying," Dirk said.
Torrin glared at him.
"I ken he's your brother, but he's a liar and a snake in the grass. He broke Isobel's finger and put a bruise on her face. These I saw with my own eyes, as did my friend, Rebbinglen, and two servants. We had to set her broken finger. If she hadn't knocked Nolan out with that stoneware jug, he would've raped her."
"MacKay is telling the truth," Cyrus said. "And so is my sister."
"Tell him to come here and talk to us," Dirk said. "Or we'll go to him."
Torrin motioned to a dark-haired, bearded man who stood some hundred yards away and vaguely looked like Nolan. Dirk had not seen him in a long time and couldn't be certain.
The man had been staring at them, but then he turned his back and pretended to be checking his horse's saddle, ignoring his older brother's summons.
"Damn him," Torrin growled. "I have no doubt he did what Lady Isobel says he did. I never should've trusted him. I caught him slapping his wife once about a year ago. I knocked him down for that, but he must not have learned a lesson from it. He's acting suspicious. If Lady Isobel will still have me, I'd like to have her as my wife. I'll send Nolan away. I want her to feel safe."
"I can't allow it, MacLeod," Cyrus said. "You seem to be a good man, but I can't be sure she'll be safe at Munrick. The betrothal is off. Destroy the contract."
"What? Nay! I'll not destroy the contract." Torrin's face reddened. "You signed it and I'm holding you to it." If not for the bars of the portcullis between them, Torrin would've been in Cyrus's face.
"I don't give a damn!" Cyrus snarled. "You didn't protect my sister. She could've been raped and killed while under your roof."
Torrin glared, his jaw clenched, green eyes narrowed. "I demand recompense. I want the three-hundred acres. Our clan needs that land for crops. We have very little arable land in Assynt. You've seen it. Naught but granite mountains."
Cyrus shook his head. "That's the main part of my sister's dowry. How do you think I'm going to arrange another marriage for her if she has no dowry?"
"I don't need her dowry," Dirk said calmly.
Torrin's sharp gaze speared Dirk. "What? You're giving her to this…"
"Choose your words carefully, MacLeod," Dirk warned.
Torrin muttered a string of curses and paced back and forth outside the portcullis.
"Aye. You lost your chance," Cyrus said in a remorseless tone. "MacKay rescued her from a snowstorm and has protected her ever since. Which is more than you could do."
"I would have, if I'd been there," he snapped.
Cyrus eyed Dirk. "You want a wife with no dowry?" he asked, his voice skeptical.
Dirk shrugged. "The land matters not to me." I simply want Isobel. He'd keep that part to himself else the men might think him daft for giving up what was apparently valuable land. "'Tis likely too far south." He thought that sounded like a good excuse, although he probably should care more about the land. The MacKay clan could undoubtedly use more oats or grazing land for cattle.
"I'll give you half the land in recompense, MacLeod. That's all. MacKay gets the other half when he marries Isobel." Cyrus switched his gaze to Dirk. "Come summer, you'll have a new galley too, MacKay. I'll not be giving my sister in marriage without a proper dowry. That would make the MacKenzies look downright stingy."