Page 22 of My Brave Highlander

"Was it a MacLeod?"

She bit her lip.

A dark sense of foreboding coming over him, he forced himself to draw away from her, then helped her lean against the wall. "Are you married to a MacLeod?"

She glanced up at him with a guilty look. Both denial and dread stabbed at him.

"Nay," she whispered.

"Do not lie to me." His tone was harsher than he'd intended.

"I'm not married to anyone," she said firmly. "I'm betrothed to the MacLeod Chief."

Damnation! Betrothed was as good as married. He should've known. And what did it matter? He'd never be able to trust her anyway, no matter how bonny she was.

"The chief, is he the one who broke your finger?" Dirk asked.

"Nay, 'twas his brutish younger brother."

"Nolan?"

She eyed him, fear glinting in her eyes. "You know him?"

"I met him once, many years ago. He's a swine." And Dirk couldn't wait to get his hands around the bastard's throat. Any man who injured a woman was no man, in truth.

"I'm not going back there. And I'm not marrying a MacLeod. Any of them," she said with finality.

Dirk was glad she'd reached that decision, but there was still a betrothal contract somewhere, tying her to Torrin MacLeod. Breaking it would have repercussions. Her brother might have to pay the MacLeods a large sum.

Dirk handed her the flask of whisky. "Drink this and then lie down and sleep. It will help you heal."

She turned her face away. "I hate that vile liquid."

"Isobel, do what I say," he murmured. "'Twill help you."

She let out a long breath. "Very well." She drank another sip of whisky, grimacing, then lay down on the blanket and covered up. "I hope this doesn't cause me to talk in my sleep."

"'Tis doubtful," Dirk said. "Why did Torrin allow his brother to hurt you?"

"He is away in Lairg, meeting with another chief. He knows naught of it."

"Why did Nolan harm you?"

She was silent a long moment. "I cannot tell you, but I fear if he ever gets his hands on me again, he'll do far more than break my finger."

"Bastard," Dirk muttered.

Why wouldn't she tell him why Nolan had injured her? Had there been a fight? With his brother away, had Nolan tried to take advantage of her? Isobel was far more bonnie than most lasses and doubtless she turned a lot of heads. Some men wouldn't take nay for an answer. Their carnal lusts overrode common sense, even when the lass belonged to a brother.

"When is the MacLeod due to return home?" Dirk asked.

Isobel's breathing was deep and even, and she didn't answer. He watched her for a moment longer, the bruise marring her smooth ivory cheek infuriating him. Something in him yearned to seek revenge for such insult and injury.

He forced his gaze away. Beitris lay snoring lightly not too far from Isobel. 'Twas time for him to get some sleep as well.

He rose and moved to sit on a stool by the fire pit.

"There is some bread and cheese if you want it," Rebbie said, lying on his bedroll nearby.