Page 70 of My Brave Highlander

"As of yet, I know not who I can trust completely within the clan, aside from Conall and Keegan."

"But Keegan is what, third or fourth in line after you to inherit, correct?"

"Indeed, but we've always been close. I wouldn't suspect him of treachery. Nor Conall. He's in line to inherit too but he's always helped me, even more than my father did. They are loyal to the core."

"In my opinion, Keegan would make a good bodyguard. Mayhap he would do it as a favor to you."

"Aye, and once I'm chief, I'll make sure Keegan has a higher-ranking position." Dirk thought of the group of lads he spent much of his time with as a youth. Erskine had been a good friend. He was the son of his father's sword-bearer, and he'd always been destined to be Dirk's sword-bearer, a hereditary position passed down through the clan. Was he already Aiden's sword-bearer? He hadn't thought to ask, but it might not matter. If Aiden was loyal to Dirk, likely Erskine would be too.

"Erskine is another possibility. Wait here and I'll see if he is about." Dirk returned to the great hall and scanned the two dozen or so present. Erskine talked with Keegan near the entrance. While Keegan resembled Dirk a great deal, aside from his sandy hair, Erskine was smaller of frame with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Still, he had a wiry strength and Dirk had seen him best larger opponents when they were younger.

Dirk approached them. "Could I have a word with both of you in the library?"

"Aye," they responded with great interest and followed him.

Once inside the more private room, he closed the door. "Have a seat." Dirk motioned toward the chairs and benches surrounding the table, then took one himself beside Rebbie. "I'm not chief yet, of course, but if all the elders and the majority of the clan decide in my favor at the hearing, I will be. I hold no ill will toward Aiden. He is my beloved brother, but most everyone can agree he isn't suited to be a chief."

Keegan and Erskine murmured their agreements.

"Are you Aiden's sword-bearer?" Dirk asked Erskine.

"Aye. I'm glad to be sword-bearer for either you or Aiden." His dark eyes narrowed. "But not Haldane. If he ever becomes chief, my family and I are leaving."

Dirk nodded. He sounded loyal. "I thank you. You've always been a good friend, Erskine. Aiden knows who I am and I believe he will resign. He's already told me he'd rather I be chief. If that happens, my stepmother may try and have me murdered again."

"I was surprised to hear she was the one behind your disappearance. But it all makes sense now. I can't believe no one told me." Erskine sent a baffled glance at Keegan.

"We kept the secret well." His cousin shrugged and smiled smugly.

"I need two men I can trust to watch my back, aside from Rebbie. Sometimes he is distracted by the lasses."

"Aye and a pretty one arrived with your stepmother, Lady Seona Murray," Keegan said with a grin, obviously referring to the young, dark-haired, blue-eyed lass who'd stood with her mother or aunt behind Maighread. So, she was the lass Maighread wanted Aiden to marry.

"Och, you make me sound completely useless," Rebbie protested. "Truth is, Dirk is so distracted by a certain dark-eyed, voluptuous lass that someone could charge him from the front, sword drawn, and he'd likely not see them if she was in the room."

Dirk's face heated. Damnation, how he hated blushing. "This is serious. Let's try to focus."

"I'm being most serious. Anytime he's around Isobel, he'll need two bodyguards, one to watch his back and one to watch his front," he told the other two men.

They chuckled and eyed him. "I thought she was betrothed to someone else," Keegan said.

"Aye, she is. And let's not change the subject," Dirk said, determined to get back on topic. "My stepmother likely won't try anything herself. She'll get one of her servants or one of her guards to do it. She'll be creative. Her mind is more twisted and devious than anyone I've ever met, but she hides it from those closest to her. Her friends, hell, even my own father had no inkling how conniving she is."

"I certainly remember what happened when you were almost killed," Keegan said, his blue eyes stormy and troubled. "You're like a brother to me and you're the rightful chief and laird. I'll be honored to be your personal guard if that's what you're wanting."

"Aye. I would like that. And I thank you," Dirk said, feeling grateful and humbled to have another good friend. He turned to the son of his father's sword-bearer. "Erskine, we were ever friends when we were lads. 'Twas likely a miracle you were not with Will and me when the disaster at Faraid Head happened."

"'Tis true."

"Would you be willing to be my personal guard as well, at least until I know who else I can trust?"

"Aye, I'd be more than happy to."

Surely Dirk could trust these two men. He hoped. He hadn't been around them in twelve years, so he wasn't one hundred percent certain of anything. He had to figure out which members of the clan were trustworthy and which ones Maighread might pay to murder him.

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Isobel followed Maighread into the castle's south-facing solar. The weak winter sun shone through the three narrow windows, highlighting the blue and gold Turkish carpet spread upon the floor. The two ladies who'd arrived with her followed also.