Page 112 of My Brave Highlander

She ached to slap his smug face like she used to when he was a lad. But he was so much taller now, his shoulders and arms like tree limbs.

"Nevertheless, you are under house arrest, Stepmother," he said. "Only Da's memory and Aiden keep me from tossing you into the dungeon with your minions where you belong."

Her whole body stiffened with the overpowering need to choke him, to bash his head in with a heavy object. The sheathed, foot-long dirk on his belt tempted her to grab it and stab him in the heart. 'Twould be fitting that he be killed with the weapon he had been named after.

But she could do naught. He was now twice her size and could easily crush her with his huge fist.

"M'lady," the guard motioned toward the stairwell. She had no choice but to do as they ordered now, but she was far from finished with Dirk. He would regret making a fool of her before the entire clan.

∞∞∞

Hearing hushed voices echoing in the dim corridor, Isobel paused before rounding the corner. Since Dirk had imprisoned Maighread in her own bedchamber three nights ago, Isobel had kept an ear out for others who might be planning to help her escape or do something to hurt Dirk.

Peering silently around the corner, Isobel saw two young maids standing outside Dirk's bedchamber. No guard stood there. She'd noticed he was sometimes without his guards inside the castle since he'd confined Maighread to her room and Haldane was somewhere beyond the walls.

What in blazes were the two maids discussing?

"You do it," one servant said.

"Nay, you. I'm not going in there," the other lass said in a loud whisper.

"If he was wee Aiden, I wouldn't mind so much. But I'm afraid of him."

"You think I'm not?"

"He is the chief, you imbecilic hare. You can't disobey him."

"I ken it. But I'd rather be fired than raped."

Raped? Did they think Dirk would rape them? If so, they had seriously misjudged him.

Isobel stepped out of the shadows. "What are you arguing about?"

"Oh, m'lady." One of the maids covered her mouth, and the other's eyes near popped out of her head. "I didn't see you standing there."

"What is the disagreement about?"

Both remained tight-lipped.

"Chief Dirk MacKay?" she guessed.

One gave a sheepish nod. "We don't wish to lose our jobs, m'lady," she whispered, beseeching her with a pitiful expression.

"Why would you?"

"He is bathing and requires a maid to wash his back. And… well…" She compressed her lips tightly between her teeth.

"Ah. I see." An enticing image of his brawny muscular body sprawled in a wooden tub teased Isobel's imagination. "There is naught to fear from Dirk MacKay. He's a good man and a good chief. I'll wash his back."

"Oh. You will?" The maids' faces fairly glowed with relief.

"Aye. Don't be gossiping and telling anyone I volunteered for the task, and I won't tell Chief MacKay you were shirking your duties."

"Oh, nay, m'lady." They both shook their heads dramatically. "We'll not say a word."

"If I find out you did…" she warned.

"We promise. Our lips are sealed tight." They both trotted away as if hungry wolves chased at their heels.