Dirk wondered what it was about him and Isobel that made people assume they were married. Simply because they rode a horse together, or because he escorted her up the steps and inside?
The gazes of twenty or thirty clan members switched between Dirk and Isobel, undoubtedly speculating whether they were indeed married.
His whole body heated. Embarrassment or rage? He couldn't be sure. Perhaps a mix of both. Since he'd taken a different name at the age of fifteen and hidden in plain sight all these years, he hadn't liked being the center of attention. And now, he shouldn't have to explain anything to his rude whelp of a brother. But since the marriage ruse was no longer necessary for Isobel's safety, he would be honest with his clan.
"She's not my wife. She's a lady I rescued on the way here."
"Och. His whore, then," Haldane accused. "I cannot believe the clan elders will tolerate this."
Rage quickened Dirk's blood. "You overstep your bounds, Haldane," he warned, moving toward his brother. "The lady is a member of the nobility and I barely know her. She is no one's whore. She's injured and we are simply showing her hospitality. Her brother is a chief. Apologize to Lady Isobel. Now."
"Nay." Haldane narrowed his eyes. "I'll not be obeying your orders."
Before he knew what he was about, Dirk wrapped a fist in Haldane's shirt and shoved him up against the stone wall. "That's not how you treat a lady," Dirk growled, nose to nose with Haldane. "Apologize now."
His younger brother's wide gaze bounced wildly about the hall. Silence reigned. Without doubt, the little weasel was looking for someone to come to his rescue. Dirk was proud of his clan when no one moved a muscle. Unlike Haldane, they all knew ladies were to be treated with respect.
"P… Pray pardon… Lady Isobel," Haldane stammered. His breathing was unsteady with Dirk's fist against his throat.
Noticing his wee brother was reluctant to meet his gaze again, he smirked. "Now, was that so hard?" Dirk asked, releasing him. "I expect you to show her and all ladies respect from now on."
Nostrils flaring, face flushing and green eyes glinting venom like his mother's might, Haldane backed away to stand behind Aiden's shoulder. "I'm going to get Mother, and you're coming with me, Aiden. I don't trust this… imposter. Come."
"I'm going nowhere." Aiden crossed his arms over his narrow chest. "'Tis past noon, and I'll not be traveling to Tongue this late."
He was a smart lad. Although Tongue was a part of MacKay lands, it would take at least a day to ride there.
"I'll go then." Haldane's brittle glowers were deadly in their intensity. "Mother will want to be here for the hearing."
Dirk seethed inside. How damned grand it would be to see Maighread Gordon again—the murderous witch.
Chapter Ten
Standing near the enormous fireplace, trying to warm herself with her maid, Isobel scanned the spacious but crowded great hall of Dunnakeil with its many tables and benches. Since Haldane had finished his insulting rant and stormed out, she could relax a bit. Although some of the clan members still sent curious glances her way.
Two sizable deerhounds lay before the fireplace on a plaid carpet, their heads resting on their paws. Though they had sniffed at her when she'd arrived, they now ignored her.
She glanced aside and up. Three sets of massive stag antlers hung on the stone wall over the fireplace, along with the MacKay crest—a hand holding a dagger or Highland dirk. The wording over it was in Gaelic—Bi Tren. Be valiant. That certainly described Dirk perfectly.
"Lady Isobel," Dirk said at her shoulder.
She turned. "Aye?"
"I'm sorry Haldane was so rude to you," he murmured in a deep voice that soothed her.
"You don't need to apologize for him." Although Isobel had been mortified and her face burning from his brother's unfair accusations and the clan members' stares, she didn't blame Dirk.
What a holy terror Haldane was. She was tempted to box his ears for being so bad-mannered, as she'd done to her own younger brothers a time or two. Even though Dirk and Haldane both possessed ginger-colored hair and tall height, naught else about them was similar. Certainly not their manners.
But standing with Dirk and talking privately always made her feel better, as did looking into his compelling eyes.
"Sounds like he will cause trouble," she said.
"Aye. Have no doubt of it." Dirk glanced over her shoulder. She turned to find a statuesque and beautiful woman, several inches taller than herself, headed toward them. "Do you know my wee sister, Jessie?" he asked.
For a certainty, the young woman had to be his sister; they had the same pale blue eyes and copper hair. "Nay, but I've heard her name mentioned."
Dirk introduced them.