Geordie’s gaze narrowed. “Is it no’ what happened?”

“Aye, but . . .” Sighing, he ran a hand over his thinning gray hair, and then said, “I heard it all secondhand from Maon, one o’ me men. He was on patrol, and saw it all. He was a good distance away though when it started, and said he never would have got there in time to stop the man when he attacked Dwyn. Maon said she was fighting like a hellcat and screaming for the dogs, but Brodie had her on the ground in seconds, and silenced her by pinning her neck with one arm. He’d already yanked his plaid up over his arse, and was choking her with his weight while he tried to drag her skirts up when the dogs came out o’ the woods. The dogs separated when they saw what was happening, coming at him from both ends. Angus went for his throat, but Brodie managed to get his arm up and in the way first, and the dog tore into that instead. But even as that happened, Barra went for his ballocks.”

Geordie winced despite himself, and James Innes nodded.

“Brodie did no’ see it coming, and likely could no’ have protected himself anyway if he had. The beast grabbed hold and shook his head from side to side and came away with meat in his mouth when Brodie kicked out at him and rolled to the side. Moan said Dwyn crawled several feet away and only called off the dogs when Brodie pulled out a dirk and started slashing at them. Angus and Barra listened at once and moved to stand in front of her, their bloody teeth bared as they growled at him. Brodie managed to crawl to his horse, cursing Dwyn and the dogs the whole way. He used his horse to get to his feet and Moan said he was bleeding something fierce, both from his arm and from between the legs. But he managed to mount just as Moan reached Dwyn. Despite me man’s presence Brodie vowed he’d make Dwyn pay for what her dogs did that day.” His mouth tightened. “Laird of Brodie or nay, Moan could no’ stand fer that threat against his lady. He drew his sword and hurried toward him, but Brodie merely put his heels to his horse and left before he could reach him. We have no’ heard from the man since.”

Geordie ground his teeth together, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he thought on how close Dwyn had come to being raped and forced to marry the bastard.

But James Innes wasn’t done, and added, “When Moan went back to Dwyn, she was ordering Barra to drop what was in his mouth. The beast let it go as he reached her. ’Twas one o’ Brodie’s ballocks and the end o’ his cock. A good two inches o’ it.”

“Ah, Christ,” Geordie breathed, but not in sympathy with Brodie, in fear for Dwyn. If the man blamed her for the dog doing that, how would he punish her? What torment would he think was equal to what Barra had done to him?

Dwyn had tried to tell him, Geordie thought. She’d said the man was dangerous, but in his arrogance he’d assured her she was safe now they were married. Of course, he hadn’t known the extent of the damages the man had sustained, but only because he hadn’t let her tell him. When she’d tried to, he’d silenced her with kisses and reassurances. He was a fool, Geordie thought with dismay. He knew Dwyn was special. She was not your average woman given to hysterics. He should have known that if she worried about Brodie, there was a reason, and he should have listened and let her say all the things her father had just told them, because he knew without a doubt that’s what she’d been trying to do when he’d silenced her with a finger over her mouth the last time she’d tried to tell him.

“We shall have to hope Brodie still wants Innes, then,” Aulay said now, drawing his gaze. “It will force him to keep her alive if he wishes to avoid all-out war with eight clans.”

“Aye,” Geordie said grimly, and then shifting his gaze to James Innes, he assured him, “It does no’ matter that I gave up all rights to Innes land should our marriage end by death or any other reason. If he kills her, we will still hunt the bastard to the ends of the earth. We will no’ let him try to force Una or Aileen into marriage, or attack Innes.”

James Innes blinked in surprise at that, and then turned to Aulay and said, “He does no’ ken. Dwyn could no’ have told him.”

“Nay,” Aulay murmured, and reminded him, “Dwyn was going to present it to him after the ceremony as a wedding gift, but we never held it. They were wed right here while Rory was sewing up Geordie’s wounds from battling the men by the loch.”

“Aye,” James murmured with a frown. “Perhaps she planned to tell him after the wedding at Innes.”

“What do I no’ ken?” Geordie asked with a frown. “What gift?”

Aulay opened his mouth, and then closed it and walked out of the room.

Geordie gaped after him with disbelief and then struggled to sit up.

“How is yer head?” Rory asked grimly, stepping forward to help him get upright, and then stacking pillows behind his back to keep him that way.

“Better,” Geordie said through gritted teeth. It was still pounding something fierce, and sitting up intensified that enough that he didn’t stand up as he’d originally intended, but it was better. Shifting his gaze to James Innes, he asked, “What the hell is the gift Dwyn did no’ give me?”

James hesitated and glanced toward the door as if hoping Aulay would appear there, but when he didn’t he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “In truth, the gift is already given. Ye just have no’ been presented with it yet,” he muttered finally.

“With what?” Geordie asked insistently, and then movement drew his gaze to the door as his brother returned with a scroll in his hand. Pausing at the bedside, Aulay held it out to Geordie.

“What is it?” he growled, simply staring at the scroll and not taking it.

“’Tis Dwyn’s gift to ye, brother.” Aulay extended his arm farther and pushed the sealed scroll toward him. “Read it.”

“Nay. Just tell me,” he said stiffly, almost afraid to touch the scroll.

“’Tis a will. Dwyn’s will,” Aulay announced, and Geordie closed his eyes, not wanting to hear more. She would not die. He wanted nothing to do with anything that might suggest she could. But Aulay added, “And though she did no’ plan it this way, ’twill keep her alive.”

That caught Geordie’s attention, and he lifted his head to spear his brother with eager eyes. “How?”

“If she dies, Innes goes to you, no’ back to me or her sisters,” James explained when Aulay hesitated.

Geordie peered at Dwyn’s father with amazement. “Ye agreed to this?”

“I had little choice in the matter,” he said dryly. “I had already given Innes to the two o’ ye in the marriage contract as was demanded in the invitation to come here, and ye had already signed it over to her. It was Dwyn’s to do with as she wished. I did try to talk her out o’ it,” he admitted. “But she was determined ye’d no’ be left homeless and landless did she die.” Sighing, he added grimly, “And now, it seems a good thing I could no’ talk her out o’ it. It may save her life.”

When Geordie peered at him in question, not understanding why, he pointed out, “If Faolan Brodie wants Innes, he canno’ kill Dwyn. Innes would go to you on her death.”

Geordie began to relax a little. Brodie couldn’t marry Dwyn and couldn’t kill her if he wanted Innes. In fact, the only way to get his hands on Innes was to—