Chapter 14
14
In all her days, Ida had never felt as lost as she had right at this moment. The rain fell around her but she barely noticed it, her own heart locked in coldness and regret. How many times had she imagined Ian asking for her hand in marriage, scoffing in her own dreams and deciding that it would never happen?
Well, it had, but his reasoning was all wrong and it hurt.
For once, Ida was grateful for the rain and Ian’s silence, not wanting to relive the pain all over again. She had yet to give him an answer and she could see the bewilderment on his face the moment she had suggested they go back to the stables. He would be asking for her answer, and heaven help her, Ida was torn. On one hand, if she said yes, she could be his wife. She could help him secure the peace he longed for and give her uncle another life away from his former clan.
On the other hand, she would be marrying for the very reason she had fought against.
She wanted love.
She wanted affection.
She wanted a husband who adored her, who she could laugh with, whisper with, grow old with. Now Ian was all those things or at least he could be, but he clearly was not looking for those things in his marriage.
He wanted a partner, nothing more.
Sucking in a tortured breath, Ida pulled her horse to a stop and climbed off, leading the soaking-wet mare into the warm stable. Ian followed her but said nothing as she started to remove her saddle and wet blanket, rubbing down Cotton’s body with a dry rag.
“Ida.”
Ida stilled at the sound of his voice, panic like no other settling in her chest. She could order him out, but he would only come back and that wouldn’t solve anything for her.
So she lifted her head, meeting his gaze. “Wot?”
“Ye didna answer mah question.”
“Oh,” she said innocently, her tongue suddenly too thick in her mouth. “I had forgotten.”
Ian looked as if he didn’t believe her for one moment and Ida wasn’t so sure she believed herself. He moved toward her and Ida backed up until she couldn’t any longer, feeling the rough wood against her back and poking her through her coat. “Donna be afraid Ida,” Ian was saying, his gaze softening. “Tis wot we both want.”
“I’m not afraid,” she forced out, nearly choking on the last word. “Ye donna frighten mah.”
The corner of his lips tipped up into a small smile. “Tis good tae know lass.” His hand reached out and cupped her cheek. “Tell mah why ye donna wish tae wed mah then?”
Ida’s skin warmed under his touch, shivering as his thumb brushed over her cheekbone. It was a simple touch, but something she had never experienced before and her lips parted, a breath escaping her lungs. “I, I donna wish tae wed for political gain.” There, she had said it, what was in her heart. She didn’t want to marry him if that was all that he wished for from her.
She deserved more.
“Wot do ye wish tae marry for then?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.
“Love,” she said honestly. “Affection. Warmth.” There were all the things that she felt must be part of a marriage that was going to be wonderful, one like her parents had. Even her uncle had loved deeply, for him to be so consumed with the loss of his family that he was throwing away the rest of the days he had. That was the sort of love she wished for.
His gaze softened even more and he pressed his forehead to hers, the scent of rain and horseflesh all around them. “Och lass, how do ye know that isna wot I want as well?”
“But,” she said, her breathing coming in tiny gasps. “The alliance.”
“Is just one part of wot I want,” he interrupted her with a chuckle. “I never thought I could have it all, but when I am with ye, I feel like I can.”
Her heart exploded in her chest at his words, not believing what she was hearing come from his lips. He wanted it all and he believed he had found it in her.
Ian lifted his head and Ida saw the intensity in his eyes. She believed him. He wanted a marriage as she did.
“I’m going tae kiss ye lass,” he said softly, his breath on her cheek. “Like I have been dreaming of since I left ye last.”
Ida sucked in a breath as he lowered his head and their lips touched, a heat unlike she had ever known slicing through her body. She felt him nibble at the corner of her mouth and when she gasped softly, his tongue swept in, tangling with hers. For a moment she didn’t know what to do, but Ian took over, showing her how to move against his tongue, the lips melding together in a vicious tangle.
Ida had never been kissed before, but it was clear that she had been waiting all her days for the man standing before her. Somehow her hands reached out and grasped his tunic, pulling him against her until his hard planes were pressed into her soft body. She felt him chuckle but he didn’t break the kiss, his hands coming up to cup her face tenderly, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
That was how she wanted to feel always.
It was beautiful. It crushed her. Ida never wanted to let go.
“Beautiful,” he murmured against her lips before taking her lower lip between his teeth and sucking.
Ida moaned, her stomach tightening. What else could he do to make her feel any differently than she was right then?
“Git yer filthy Wallace hands off her!”
They barely had time to break apart before uncle barreled into Ian’s midsection, causing them both to fall into the empty stall next to them. Ida cried out as the two men hit the floor, dust and hay flying into the air. “Uncle! Stop it!”
It was clear that Ian was trying to hold the old man back, uncle swinging at Ian’s head with his fists and Ida knew she had to do something. “Stop it!” she cried out again, grasping at uncle’s dirtied tunic. He was far too heavy for her to pull him off Ian and she stumbled back against the wood wall, hitting her head on the heavy slat.
“Ida!” Ian called out, finally succeeding in wrestling the old man into a position that he could hold him still. “Are ye alright lass?”
She rubbed the spot. “I’m fine.” It might be a little sore in the morning, but there was no bleeding.
“I’m going tae let ye up old man,” Ian was telling uncle, his jaw clenched. “But if ye hurt her, ye will deal with mah.”
Uncle just glared at Ian and when he let go of him, he scrambled to his feet, pointing a shaky finger at the laird. “Ye keep yer bloodstained hands off her!”
“Uncle,” Ida began but Ian silenced her with a look. What was he going to say to make this right?
“I have asked for yer niece’s hand,” Ian tried as uncle’s face mottled red with anger.
“Nay!” Uncle cried out, shaking his head. “She would never marry the likes of ye! She is a loyal lass tae her clan.”
His words tore through Ida and made her feel as if she might not have thought this through with Ian. She was a MacGregor and loyal to the clan, yet she had feelings for a Wallace, their sworn enemy. It mattered not that he wanted peace between the two clans. She had seen the way that Iris had struggled in her first few months of coming to their clan, how she had endured the looks of disdain as if they could see into her very soul. It hadn’t taken Ida long to realize that it wasn’t Iris that was the one in the wrong but the clan for judging her too harshly but it had taken her a year to win them over.
Had he really thought that she could just leave and bring her Wallace-hating uncle with her and all would be well?
“Ye are only after her tae break her,” uncle continued, his words cutting. “Ye canna marry her. I would rather have a sword ran through mah than tae watch that sickness happen!”
That was all that Ida needed to hear. Drawing in a tortured breath, she stepped between the two men, her eyes on Ian. “Ye need tae leave.”
“Ida,” he began, panic starting to set in on his handsome face. “Donna.”
She shook her head, tears clogging her throat. “This is wrong. We shouldna.”
“Nay,” he stated, reaching for her. “Donna do this tae us.”
Ida stepped closer to her uncle, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders, surprising her. “Git out,” he seethed.
Ian looked at Ida for one long moment before his jaw hardened. “Is that wot ye want?”
Nay, it wasn’t what she wanted at all! She wanted what he had promised her, what they had realized before her uncle had interrupted them. She wanted that happiness in her life. “Aye,” she said instead, her heart breaking. “I think tis for the best.”
Ian opened his mouth to say something but promptly shut it. “Alright lass,” he bit out. “I’m leaving.”
Ida watched him go, desperate to call him back. She knew she had to do what was right for her uncle, but this didn’t feel right at all. It felt like her heart was breaking, that she had just given up something very precious to her.
Her uncle dropped his arm from around her shoulders. “Good riddance,” he muttered, snatching his cap off the ground that had gotten knocked off his head in the tussle. “Good for nothing Wallaces will do nothing but murder ye in yer bed!”
Ida ignored him, tears blurring her eyes. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that Ian was better than anyone she had ever encountered in her own clan but she would be wasting her breath with her uncle.
So instead, she looked at him. “Unless ye are going tae help in the stables, I would like a moment’s peace.”
He eyed her distrustfully, as if she was going to run after Ian and drag him back. That was exactly what she wished to do, but the words had been said between them. He wasn’t coming back. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I dinna want tae be here anyway.”
Ida waited until he had left, the door shutting behind him before she slid down onto the wooden floor, tears flowing down her cheeks. She had done what needed to be done, but it didn’t feel at all like what should have happened.
What if she was wrong to think that her life should revolve around her uncle? What if what he needed was for her to give him an ultimatum to turn his life around or she would leave him to his fate? It was what most would have done in her situation and would have left long ago at that.
Sighing, Ida didn’t even bother to stop the tears as they rolled down her face. It mattered not. She had made her choice and Ian wasn’t going to wait around for her to change her mind. He was a laird, one that needed a wife, a partner and she had turned him down.
She had chosen family over a life of happiness that would have made her more than just what everyone saw her as.
Ida didn’t know how long she sat there, on the floor but after a while, she picked herself up, dusting off her skirts. There were no more tears to release.