Page 130 of My Brave Highlander

"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."

Dirk grinned. "I thank you. That's very generous of you." He shook Cyrus's hand.

"What about you, MacLeod?" Cyrus asked. "Are you satisfied with that, or are you planning to lift half my cattle?"

"I'm satisfied," Torrin said, though he appeared irked and disappointed. "'Tis my brother who caused our clan to lose half the land. I'll deal with him." Torrin glared back to where Nolan was watching them from beside his horse.

"I want to have a word with him too," Cyrus said.

"As do I," Dirk said. "And if you'll have your men stand down, MacLeod, we'll have no disagreement this day."

"Very well." Torrin returned to where his mounted men waited. Dirk still didn't trust them. But he had more than three dozen guards and armed clansmen both outside and inside the gates. If the MacLeods started a skirmish, they'd be outnumbered.

Once the portcullis was open, Cyrus proceeded out to talk to his men. Several of them dismounted, then accompanied Cyrus calmly toward the MacLeods.