Chapter 4
4
Ian walked up the steps to the heavy wooden door that had been thrown open, revealing glimpses of the great hall that was behind the doors. Remy was behind him and Dalziel next to him, where the captain of the guard should be next to his laird.
Still, Ian felt the heavy threat of where he was all around him.
James Lennox was the first Scot he saw as he entered the large room, the smell of burning logs heavy in the air. “Wallace,” Lennox replied, his hands clasped behind his back. “Ye finally made it.” He looked closer. “Is something wrong with yer nose?”
“A minor disagreement,” Ian replied evenly, holding out his arm. “I trust ye are well?”
James clasped Ian’s forearm, a true smile crossing his face. “Aye we are well. Yer sister has been looking forward tae this day for some time.”
Ian released the hold on James’s forearm, looking around at the nearly empty hall. “Where is she?”
“Tending tae yer niece,” James winced. “She’s a mite difficult today.”
If she was anything like Iris, Ian figured every day was difficult. Still, he had a sense of pride at what his sister had been able to accomplish in her short time with the MacGregors.
James stepped closer to Ian. “I hope this means ye have finally accepted our union?”
And by union, Ian knew that James didn’t mean the union of the clans but rather the fact that he had married Iris. There had been a time when Ian had told James to stay away from Iris, worried that he was going to hurt her in the end and leave Ian to pick up the pieces of her life.
James, however, had proven Ian wrong. The Scot had truly cared about Iris and it hadn’t taken Ian long to realize that Iris had felt the same way. He had all but pushed them together after his da’s death, wanting his sister to find something to believe in.
Even if Ian didn’t believe in love himself.
Now everything was as it should be. Iris was happy or at least so he thought until he could put his eyes on his sister himself and ensure that Lennox was keeping her happy. Reaching out, he clamped his hand on James’s shoulder, squeezing hard. “Aye James. Ye know that I consider ye family now.”
James winced slightly under Ian’s tight grip and Ian grinned inwardly. It didn’t mean he wasn’t going to rile him up a bit when he got the chance. Releasing his brother-in-law, Ian looked about the great hall. It was the same size as his back home, but whereas he had teems of Scots milling about constantly, the hall was largely empty, including the laird’s seat near the fire. “Where is Laird MacGregor?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
James cleared his throat. “He’s meeting with his council this afternoon. He bids ye a welcome tae his keep and states that anything ye require will be provided tae ye during yer stay.”
Ian tried not to show the disappointment on his face. While they had both agreed to a truce, it didn’t mean they were going to start enjoying each other’s company right away. This was one of the reasons he had agreed to his sister’s summons. He needed to build a fragile bond with the laird as his equal and not his da’s son any longer. “Then I look forward tae mah time here,” Ian forced out. “I trust that mah men will be taken care of?”
“We have rooms procured for yer men,” James answered, giving Remy a nod. “Near our rooms of course. I figured ye would want tae be close tae Iris.”
“Aye,” Ian said, suddenly weary. His nose was still throbbing even though he could breathe easier and he was tired from the journey, longing for a comfortable bed.
“Come then,” James motioned with his hand.
Ian’s boots rang out on the stone flooring as they climbed the stairs all the way to the third level of the keep, down a clean, but narrow hallway lit by torches encased in iron. James opened one of the doors and stepped back, allowing Ian entrance. Ian did just that, taking in the comfortable surroundings and cheery fireplace before his eyes landed on his sister, who was placing a small bairn in a wooden structure with high sides. “Come on,” she was saying, placing her hand on the small girl’s forehead. “Tis time for yer nap dear one.”
“Perhaps she’s not tired,” Ian suggested softly, causing his sister to spin around, her eyes widening.
“Ian!” she called out, rushing over to embrace him. “Yer here!”
He allowed himself to be engulfed by her embrace, breathing in her scent. “I’ve missed ye so much!” she said, pressing her face to his tunic. “How are ye? How is Stephan, Gretna, and Lena? Is the clan surviving well?”
Ian laughed as he pulled back, gazing into her eyes that mirrored his own. “Too many questions sister.”
She flushed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Aye, I should give ye room tae breathe at least.”
Ian didn’t want to let her go, emotions welling up in his chest that he was unfamiliar with. He had missed his sister. Their relationship hadn’t always been warm, but she was the one who would listen when he needed an ear. Lately, he needed advice a great deal. Being a laird was not an easy position nor did it allow for many people around him that he could trust fully. Stephan, of course, he could trust, but he had his brother busy making certain that their warriors were ready for any sort of attack.
Most days, he didn’t even see his brother.
Iris’s smile faltered. “Wot is it?” she asked, sensing his warring thoughts. When he shook his head, Iris turned to her husband, who was waiting by the door. “James why donna ye see tae the rest of our visitors? I would like a moment alone with mah brother.”
James gave them both a nod and promptly shut the door behind him, leaving the siblings alone. “He has no qualms aboot doing yer business does he?” Ian teased as he let go of Iris.
She shot him a hard look. “Leave him be Ian. He still thinks ye donna like him.”
“He’s wed tae mah sister,” Ian argued. “I shouldna.”
Iris just shook her head, a smile playing on her lips before she held out her hand. “Come see yer niece, ye dolt.”
Ian took her hand and she led him over to the bed, where the bairn was resting. Immediately, he could see Iris’s features in his niece’s sleeping face, but there was a hint of Lennox there as well.
Only a hint. “I’m afraid her temper is that of a Wallace,” Iris began, reaching out to cover her daughter with a blanket. “She’s stubborn and short-tempered.”
“Sound like ye,” Ian teased, bumping her shoulder with his.
She bumped him back and they shared a smile. “Tell mah wot is wrong Ian,” Iris said in a soft voice. “Wot can I do tae help?”
He shook his head, not wanting to burden his sister with his own concerns about being the laird that their clan needed. “Ye have done enough getting mah here.”
“But not without injury, it seems,” Iris fought back, reaching up to touch his swollen nose. “Wot did ye do?”
He winced, pulling away from her. “Nothing. Tis was a misunderstanding.” He would not put Ida or her uncle in any sort of concern with her laird. He had promised her that much. “There is still discord in the Wallace clan aboot this alliance.”
Iris swallowed. “And in the MacGregor one as well. I’ve spoken with the laird aboot it, but he, well, thinks that there is more tae be worried aboot.”
There always was. Ian knew that firsthand. There were summers of droughts that affected food stores, warring within the clans that always had to be settled, and constant needs from his own people. If anyone understood, Ian did.
“I hope that I can get ye a meeting as soon as possible though,” Iris continued. “I will meet with him in the morn and ask for a moment.”
Ian arched a brow. “Part of yer ambassador duties, right?”
She grinned. “Can ye believe it? James is saying all the time that I may outrank him.”
“I bet it’s a blow tae his ego,” Ian teased once more. “Are ye happy here Iris?” If she wasn’t, he would fight to get her back home, her and his niece. It wouldn’t help any sort of alliance between the two clans but she was his family and family came first.
“I’m happy,” Iris smiled. “More than happy. I miss mah family, but I’m making a life with James here. The clan, they have accepted mah as one of their own, Ian.”
He was happy for her then.
“Ye must be famished,” Iris said a moment later. “I will call up for dinner and we can eat together tonight. I want tae hear all aboot mah siblings and their goings.”
Ian grinned, some of the worry rolling off him for now. Iris was hopeful, and he had to be, that this journey wasn’t going to be all for naught. If nothing else, he had to fight for the little ones, like his niece sleeping close by. She was their future, as were all the bairns in both clans. He didn’t want them to have to worry about the violence, the loss, the worry that they had all experienced in their lifetime.
Ian truly did want to see peace between the clans and this was the first step toward it.
That evening, Ian sat with his sister and James around a small table in their chamber room, a platter of roasted chicken with root vegetables in the center of the table and a few bottles of wine to complete the meal. Ian was holding his dram of whiskey, feeling the pain finally recede to just a twinge over what he had consumed.
“Well,” Iris replied, leaning back in her chair, a cup of wine in her hand and her cheeks flushed from her drink. “I hope that ye donna piss off any other old Scots while ye are here.”
Ian chuckled into his cup. “Wot? Do ye want mah tae disguise mahself and not be the laird, so that drunken fools dinna attack me? Regardless, the old drunk’s niece at the stables helped. She seems to be quite the lass.”
James chuckled, his cheeks also reddened from the ale he was drinking. “Ye have taken an interest in Ida?”
Ian cleared his throat, trying not to think about Ida or her gentle ways as she had taken care of him. “She’s an asset tae ye, that is all I am saying.”
“Or,” Iris said slyly. “Is it because ye saw something more in her?”
The couple laughed at Ian’s expense but he remained silent, staring down into his cup. He saw nothing. He couldn’t. She was part of this clan and he was laird over another. It had been a fleeting moment for him, a moment of weakness.
Nothing more.
He wouldn’t even think of her after this.
That night, he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the logs as they popped in the fireplace. The whiskey had wound its way around his body, making him feel tired but he found himself unable to sleep.
He kept thinking about the very lass he told himself he wouldn’t think of again, with her wide blue eyes and easy conversation. He hadn’t told his sister everything that he and Ida had discussed, her teasing far too much already for her to think that he thought the lass was giving sound advice to a laird.
But she had. She had given him some thought about the future, about the unnecessary fighting and he longed to continue that conversation with her.
Remy would be rolling with laughter he knew that the lass had affected Ian so. It had been a long while since any lass had done so and the last one, well, he almost didn’t recover from the hurt she had placed on his heart.
Ian clutched the bunch of wildflowers he had picked from the nearby field as he made his way to the cottage on the hill, thinking about his words with each step along the way. His brother, Stephan, stated that he should just come out and say what he was there for, but his sister, Iris, had told him that he needed to speak words of love and devotion if he wished to win her over. Today she would have to make a choice and Ian wasn’t so certain that he would be that choice.
He rapped on the door with his fist and Yerlie opened the door, her eyes widening when she saw him. “Ian,” she stammered, stepping out and shutting the door behind her. “Wot are ye doing here?”
He thrust the flowers toward her, his palm sweaty as she took them. “I’ve come tae ask ye something.”
The redheaded beauty fiddled with the flowers and Ian’s heart started to rapidly beat in his chest. “Wot is that Ian?”
“I love ye,” he said, the words coming out of his mouth before he could think about them. “And I want ye tae be mah wife.”
She let out a small noise but it wasn’t a yes or at least it didn’t sound like it. “Och Ian. I have feelings for ye as well, but I canna wed ye.”
“Why not?” he demanded, reaching out to take her hand. He could feel her trembling in his touch. “If ye love mah.”
She met his eyes and he saw the sadness in her green depths. “I’ve already promised mahself tae another.”
For a moment, Ian stood there, gripping her hand as his mind tried to comprehend what she was saying. “I, I donna understand.”
Yerlie slid her hand out of his, stepping back toward the cottage. “I’m verra sorry Ian but ye are heading off tae battle and I canna stay behind, wondering if ye will ever return.”
“I will be laird one day,” he cut in, his ire starting to build. “Ye would be mah lady.” That was a lofty position for any lass in the clan and more than enough for one to accept a marriage proposal.
“And a fine laird ye will be,” she answered, her voice soft. “I canna wait Ian. I wish for a husband that will be here with mah, not spilling blood on the battlefield. I want a family, bairns, a home that isna marred by the blood of our enemies.” She dropped the flowers on the ground. “I, ye need tae leave.”
Ian felt pain squeeze across his chest but he lifted his chin, hiding it deep down for now. “I see.”
Yerlie shook her head slowly. “Nay ye donna. I wish I could be wot ye need but I’m not.”
Ian swallowed as the memory tucked itself back into his mind, a small twinge of pain still in his chest after all these years. As much as he had hurt after her rejection, Ian knew that Yerlie had been right. He had been infatuated with her, wanting her to be his wife and while she had led him on a merry chase, Yerlie was far happier these days as a farmer’s wife, with five bairns already. He held no ill will against her choice, but his visions of love and happiness were now dust. He had no use for love, not any longer.
Rubbing a hand over his face, Ian turned away from the fire, staring at the wall instead. He would conduct his business and leave, going back to the clan that needed him.
Nothing else mattered.