My Daring Highlander (13 page)

“Very well.” Cold dread weighed
heavily in Keegan’s chest. “Is something wrong?”

“Nay. He is the same but wanted to
talk to you.”

She walked with him up the straight
stone staircase, opened the door to the bedchamber, then
left.

Keegan entered the room, lit by the
late evening sunrays that sliced through the clouds, to find Dirk
reclining in a large bed, his leg propped on pillows and several
more behind his back.

“How are you feeling?” Keegan asked,
moving forward.

“Like my leg is shot full of holes.
’Tis hard to believe there is only one through it.” Dirk took a sip
of whisky from a small goblet. “Have a seat.” He motioned to a
straight wooden chair by the bed, then poured Keegan a dram of
whisky in another goblet.

“I thank you.” Keegan sipped the fiery
liquid. “I’m certain you’ll be back to your old self in a few
days.”

“Aye. ’Tis not the first time I’ve
been shot with an arrow. I took one in the shoulder early last fall
in Perth.”

Keegan dropped into the chair by the
bed, relaxing a bit since Dirk wasn’t as bad as he’d
feared.

“I want to thank you for protecting
Isobel during the skirmish,” Dirk said. “She means more to me than
my own life.”

The sincerity in Dirk’s pale blue
eyes, as well as the obvious and profound love he held for his
wife, stalled out any words Keegan might say in response. He gave a
brief nod.

“If anything happens to me, promise me
that you will protect her,” Dirk said, his eyes fiercely
intense.

“Och.” With the sound, Keegan released
some of the pressure in his chest. “Naught is going to happen to
you, cousin!”

“If it does. Promise me.” Dirk’s gaze
remained piercing.

“Aye, of course. You ken I would
protect both you and Isobel with mine own life.”

“I thank you. That means more than I
can say.” He relaxed back a bit.

“I’m certain you will be well in a
matter of days. As you said, you’ve been injured many times
before.”

Dirk nodded and sipped the whisky
again. “Haldane is a menace. I had no inkling he would come back
with such a vengeance this spring. I thought… hoped… he’d escaped
to the Lowlands where he’d stop his outlaw ways and start a new
life. But I doubt he will ever change. He has too much of his
devious mother in him.”

“Aye, that he does.”

Dirk inhaled a deep breath and let it
out slow. “You’re not only my cousin, but also a good friend, as
you’ve been the whole of my life.”

“Aye,” Keegan said hesitantly,
wondering what was on Dirk’s mind now. Had the whisky loosed his
tongue?

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you
about something,” Dirk said. “I’ve thought long and hard on it. I
want you to be my tanist until I have an heir who is of
age.”

“What?” Keegan frowned. Why would Dirk
name him heir apparent to the chiefdom? “Nay. Aiden is tanist, as
he should be. He’s your brother.”

Dirk shook his head. “He doesn’t want
the position. If something should happen to me before I sire an
heir, Aiden might be baron but he could never lead the clan. You
saw the kind of chief he was before I came back. He’s not a leader.
He’s a minstrel and a piper, a very talented one. He’s more than
happy to simply play music. He told me you would make a better
tanist, and I agree.”

Shocked to the core, Keegan swallowed
hard. This was something he’d never expected. “Well…I thank you.
I’m honored you chose me. I’d be more than happy to fill the role,
until you have a son, although I’m your cousin, not your
brother.”

“You’re like a brother to me,” Dirk
assured him.

“And you’re like a brother to me as
well.” Even though Keegan had three younger brothers, he actually
felt closer to Dirk. Maybe because the two of them were alike in
many ways and near the same age.

“You’re a fearsome warrior. A strong
leader,” Dirk said. “You’ve been head of the guards for a long
while now.”

“Aye.” Four years, in fact.

“You ken what is expected of a chief.
You watched my father lead the clan for years, even while I was
away.”

Keegan nodded. “He was a great chief,
as you are.”

“I can only aspire to be as good a
leader as he was,” Dirk said. “Anyway, I want the clan and Isobel
to be safe and protected should Haldane or his men hit their mark
next time.”

Chapter Ten

Keegan left Dirk’s chamber feeling
gloomy and disturbed, despite being named tanist. Of course, ’twas
a great honor and a high position within the clan, just beneath the
chief, and he was grateful for it. But he would never wish for
anything bad to happen to Dirk.

Keegan met Isobel in the narrow
corridor, carrying a tray of food. Her face was still pale and
concerned.

He paused. “I hope you’ll pardon me
for asking, Lady Isobel, but I need to see Lady Seona for a few
minutes. Could you ask her to meet me here without her aunt
knowing?”

“Aye. Just a moment.” Isobel took the
tray into Dirk’s chamber, then returned.

“’
Tis not for frivolous
purposes,” Keegan said. “I’m teaching her how to use a blade to
defend herself. I don’t want her aunt to know. She wouldn’t
approve.”

“Aye. ’Tis very kind of you, Keegan.
There’s a private parlor at the end of this corridor you can use
for practice if you wish.” She motioned toward a distant closed
door. “Also, the cooks prepared food and left it in the dining room
below for everyone—you and all the men.”

“I thank you. I’ll let them
know.”

She proceeded to one of the other
bedchambers. A couple of minutes later, Seona and Isobel moved
along the corridor, whispering. Seona looked beautiful, but he knew
she had to be exhausted after all the travel.

“I thank you.” Keegan bowed when they
paused before him.

“I’m glad to help.” Isobel went into
the chamber with Dirk and closed the door.

Seona glanced back at the door leading
to the room where her aunt remained, unable to believe she would
have some precious time alone with Keegan. She faced him again,
taking in his serious expression in the dim light of gloaming. She
knew he was concerned about Dirk.

“I had hoped to teach you more about
defending yourself,” Keegan whispered. “Things have turned
dangerous. Our chief is injured, and it near kills me to imagine
you attacked or captured and unable to fight off the
outlaws.”

Seona nodded, a cold shiver traveling
through her when she imagined Haldane kidnapping her. “I thank you
for the help. Aunt Patience is asleep, so we have some
time.”

“I hadn’t considered… we’ve been
traveling a long time. You may be too tired.”

“Nay.” No matter how tired she was,
she’d rather spend time with Keegan than sleep. Besides, being near
him suffused her with giddy energy.

“Isobel said there’s a parlor at the
end of the corridor we can use.” He motioned.

“Very well.” She proceeded in the
direction he’d indicated and he followed.

Once they were inside, he closed the
door.

A bright fire burned in the hearth,
and Keegan lit a few more thick candles. ’Twas a beautiful room
with several chairs and settees here and there in groupings. A fine
Turkish carpet lay in the center of the polished wood
floor.

“How is Chief Dirk feeling?” she
asked.

“He’s in pain.” Keegan frowned. “I
pray he recovers.”

“As do I.” She could not imagine the
level of intense fear and worry Isobel must feel right now. She and
Dirk had only been married six months. They were near inseparable
and so in love.

“He has always been like a brother to
me instead of a cousin,” Keegan said.

“I can tell. The two of you are
close.” And she admired this about them. She was also close to her
cousins, Genevieve and Malcolm.

Keegan stood at the fireplace, staring
into the flames for a long moment. A casual observer would think he
was relaxing; yet, to Seona he seemed profoundly tense, as if his
thoughts were in turmoil.

“Is something wrong?” she
asked.

He faced her, a troubled frown upon
his handsome face. “I’ll tell you something if you promise not to
tell anyone as of yet. It hasn’t been announced.”

“Of course.” Praying his news wasn’t
bad, she moved forward to stand beside him in front of the hearth.
The fire warmed her as did Keegan’s close presence.

“Dirk has just named me his tanist
until he has an heir.” Keegan’s expression remained dark and
foreboding.

“In truth? That is a high honor.” She
was happy for him, but concerned that he didn’t appear
pleased.

“Aye. He realizes Haldane and his band
of outlaws could kill him at any moment. That’s why he asked me. He
said he’d been considering it for a while, but the injury… the
threat to his life made him realize his own mortality.” Keegan
shook his head. “That’s what feels like a knife to the gut.” He
looked tormented as he stared into the flames. He turned toward
her. “Och. Pray pardon, Lady Seona. I should not have said that
aloud.”

“Nay. I’m glad you told me,” she said
quickly. “I’m glad… you trust me.” It meant more to her than she
could express.

“’
Tis true. I do trust you,
Seona.” In the firelight, his blue eyes were sincere, yet a hint of
his natural charm also slipped through, as if he might smile at any
moment. But he didn’t.

“God forbid that something should
happen to Dirk, but if it did, I know with certainty you would do
the clan proud as their chief,” she said.

He bent his head in an abbreviated
bow. “I thank you for your confidence.”

She wanted to touch him, to hold him.
It meant the world to her that he’d told her about being named
tanist before he’d told anyone else. She considered that an
honor.

“I wish Da was here so I could tell
him,” Keegan said.

“He will be proud when he learns of
it.”

Keegan nodded. “Enough about me. I
want you to practice the knife-fighting moves I told you about last
time.”

“Very well.”

“Did you bring your knife?”

“Aye.”

“Well, I also brought
this.” He withdrew a blunt wooden stick shaped like a small
sgian dubh
from his
sporran. “I made it last night to help with our
practice.”

“’
Tis beautifully carved.
Are you afraid I’ll stab you with the real thing?”

A tiny grin quirked his lips. “I don’t
want you to hesitate.” He removed his sporran and sword baldric—she
presumed because he wanted them out of the way while they
practiced. “Have you ever stabbed anyone?” he asked.

“Of course not!”

“Well, to do it effectively, you have
to put some muscle behind it.”

She would never have the muscle or
strength he had. That was a certainty. “Show me.”

“Like I was telling you
last time, if you are grabbed from behind, you’ll want to hold
your
sgian
like
this.” He held the knife with the fake blade pointing downward.
“And when you have the opportunity, stab backward into his body.”
Keegan thrust the knife blade behind himself toward an invisible
attacker. “Now, you try it.” He handed her the carved wooden stick.
“Face away from me so I can see your movements.”

Trying to imagine being in the grips
of an outlaw, she drove the fake knife backward into thin
air.

“Aye. Good. Now, I’m going to pretend
to be an outlaw capturing you.”

Surprised by his words, she
glanced around at him. He was going to grab her?
Heavens!
Her skin heated
with anticipation.
’Tis only for
practice
, she told her wayward
body.

He paused. “Are you in
agreement?”

“Aye. I need the practice.”

“Don’t hurt me.” He
grinned.

She lifted a brow and sent him a saucy
look. “’Tis a risk you take if you assume the outlaw
role.”

“Indeed.” His smile widened, but he
didn’t move.

When she faced the opposite wall
again, he stealthily moved in behind her, covered her mouth with
one hand and wrapped his other arm around both hers, trapping them.
She was so stunned by his body heat, she couldn’t think or act for
a moment. When he lifted her into the air in one second and turned
with her, she was amazed at his strength.

Forcing her brain to function, she
thrust the wooden knife backward toward him. She missed, but tried
again. This time, she met resistance.

He grunted, then murmured in her ear,
“Try it again. Harder.”

Saints!
She didn’t want to hurt him. While it was true the
wooden knife wouldn’t cut him, it might leave a bruise.

“Come now, lass. Show me what you’ve
got,” he encouraged.