Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ian entered the solar where Flynn and Melissa waited.
“Och, me Laird,” Flynn bowed.
“Good evenin', me Laird,” Melissa curtsied. “Thank ye for this supper.”
“There’s much to celebrate. Me man-at-arms and his lovely wife are expectin' to grace the castle with a bairn, a supper in celebration of that fact is the least I could do,” Ian said.
“Oh, me Lady,” Melissa said as her gaze shifted toward the door.
Ian turned to see Arianna enter the solar. He gulped as his eye roamed over her in a blue gown that brought out the color of her eyes, and a plunging neckline that showed her heaving bosom.
“Good evenin' all,” Arianna said. Melissa hugged Arianna, and the two ladies chatted quietly.
Ian looked at Arianna, but she only looked at him briefly before averting his gaze.
She is still cross with me.
Ian moved to the sideboard and poured a whisky for himself and for Flynn.
“To yer future,” Ian toasted.
“Thank ye, it means much,” Flynn said.
Two servants appeared in the door carrying trays. Ian nodded at them and they entered setting up a feast on the table.
“Shall we?” Ian motioned.
“Aye,” Flynn said.
Ian sat at the head of the table with Arianna to his left and Flynn to his right, with Melissa sitting beside Flynn.
“Tis a fine feast, me Laird and Lady,” Melissa said.
“Well ye are eatin' for two now,” Arianna replied.
“That is true,” Melissa said.
Ian watched Arianna as the food was served. He could smell her floral scent. His gaze moved to her creamy skin. The urge to reach for her brought a deep frustration. With every breath, her bosom heaved up and down, begging for his attention.
“Flynn, have ye considered names for the bairn?” Ian asked, attempting to distract himself from the temptation beside him.
“Aye, we considered Nicholas for a wee boy and Fiona for a girl,” Flynn said.
“They are fine names,” Melissa added.
“Indeed they are. Ye have chosen well,” Arianna said.
Ian looked to her.
Does she consider names for our own bairns, or does she hope we never have heirs?
She did not return his gaze, however, and pushed her food on her plate. Ian felt his blood boil. He wanted to snap her out of it. To demand that she look at him and speak with him, but he did not.
Tonight is about Flynn and Melissa, and as loyal servants, they deserve some joy and peace.
The clash of steel rang sharply across the training yard as warriors circled one another in the morning light.
Ian stood near the edge of the packed earth, his arms folded across his chest as he watched the drills unfold.
A pair of younger men lunged clumsily at one another, their blades meeting with a dull scrape.
“Hold!” Ian called sharply.
Both men froze mid-movement and looked toward him.
“Ye’re swinging like drunkards at a harvest feast,” he said, stepping forward. “Keep yer feet steady and watch yer opponent’s shoulders, and his blade.”
One of the warriors wiped sweat from his brow. “Aye, me Laird. We’ll do better.”
Ian nodded once and gestured with his hand. “Again.”
The two resumed their practice, circling warily this time. Nearby, several other warriors leaned against the wooden rail while discussing patrol routes for the western hills. Ian turned toward them, his boots crunching lightly against the gravel.
“What news from the border?” he asked.
A broad-shouldered man named Callum straightened. “Quiet enough these past two nights, though the men swear they saw movement along the ridge.”
Ian narrowed his eyes. “Raiders?”
“Mayhap,” Callum replied with a shrug. “Or shepherds strayin' farther than they should.”
Another warrior chuckled. “If it’s raiders, they’re ghostly ones. Never leave a trace.”
Ian’s jaw tightened slightly. “Ghosts still bleed,” he said coolly. “Double the patrols along the ridge tonight.”
“Aye, me Laird,” several voices answered.
The drills resumed behind him as swords struck together with renewed energy. Ian watched the warriors for another moment, though his mind wandered elsewhere. Since discovering the clause hidden within the marriage contract, an uneasy weight had settled over him that refused to lift.
Footsteps approached across the yard. “Ian,” Flynn called.
Ian turned to see his friend striding toward him, his brow furrowed with concern. Flynn rarely wore such an expression, which alone made Ian wary. He inclined his head slightly.
“What is it?”
Flynn glanced around at the warriors before lowering his voice. “Could we speak a moment… alone?”
Ian studied him briefly. Then he nodded. “Come.”
Together they walked away from the noise of the training yard to a meadow that stretched wide beneath the morning sky, the tall grass swaying gently in the breeze. They stopped several paces from the path where no one could easily overhear them.
Ian turned toward him. “Well?”
Flynn rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. “Melissa saw somethin'.”
Ian waited. “She said yer wife was standin' outside the council chamber door,” Flynn continued. “Just before our last meetin' ended.”
A chill crept slowly through Ian’s chest.
“She looked upset,” Flynn added quietly. “More than upset.”
Ian felt his stomach tighten. “She kens, then?” he asked.
Flynn hesitated before answering. “I cannae be certain.”
The uncertainty did little to ease Ian’s dread. His gaze drifted toward the distant hills as the truth settled heavily in his mind. If Arianna had overheard the council speaking about the clause, there would be only one conclusion she could reach. That he had married her for land.
Flynn watched him carefully. “Ye should speak to her, Ian,” he said after a moment. “Before this grows worse.”
Ian exhaled slowly. “Aye,” he muttered.
But the word carried little confidence. His thoughts turned toward Arianna, the way she had begun to smile more freely in recent weeks.
The way she had laughed the first time she managed to split a log cleanly in two.
He had watched her slowly shed the guarded uncertainty she carried when she first arrived. And now that trust might be gone.
“She’ll think I planned it,” Ian said quietly.
Flynn shrugged slightly. “Can ye blame her?”
Ian’s jaw tightened. “Nay,” he admitted.
The admission tasted bitter.
Flynn shifted his weight in the grass. “Then tell her the truth.”
Ian gave a humorless huff. “The truth is complicated.”
“Aye,” Flynn said. “But silence will only make it worse.”
Ian ran a hand through his hair, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. The council had insisted the clause remain quiet for political reasons. Yet every instinct in him rebelled against allowing Arianna to believe such a lie. He stared across the meadow, his thoughts heavy.
For weeks, he had struggled to keep his distance from her for reasons she could not understand. He had believed restraint would protect them both. Instead, it seemed to have built a wall between them.
“If she thinks I married her for land…” Ian said quietly.
He did not finish the sentence.
Flynn studied him for a moment. “Then ye’d best convince her otherwise.”
Ian nodded slowly, though unease twisted inside him. Because one truth had become painfully clear. If Arianna truly believed he had deceived her, winning back her trust might prove far harder than facing any enemy beyond the clan’s borders.
“I must go find her,” Ian said.
He left Flynn and returned to the castle. Servants carrying baskets and bundles quickly stepped aside as he passed, lowering their heads in hurried bows. The tension in the air felt thick, though no one dared speak it aloud. Ian barely noticed them.
His thoughts were fixed on one person. He turned down the familiar corridor that led to Arianna’s chambers and pushed open the door without hesitation.
“Arianna?” he called, his voice carrying across the quiet room. Only silence answered him.
The chamber was empty. The hearth burned low, and the curtains stirred gently with the breeze from the narrow window.
Ian stepped farther inside, scanning the room as though she might appear from behind the bed or wardrobe.
But the chamber remained stubbornly still.
Then there was movement, but it was only her pet rabbit.
He exhaled sharply and turned back into the corridor. A maid carrying a folded bundle of linens approached cautiously. Ian stepped into her path, forcing her to halt.
“Have ye seen Lady McGuire?” he asked.
The girl blinked nervously before shaking her head. “Nay, me Laird.”
Ian studied her briefly. Her eyes flicked toward the chamber door and then quickly back to the floor. The unease in her posture did not escape him.
“If ye see her, tell her I’m lookin' for her,” he said.
“Aye, me Laird,” she murmured.
Ian continued down the corridor, though the strange tension among the servants did not ease his mind. Several clan members standing near the stairwell fell quiet as he approached. One man cleared his throat awkwardly while another suddenly found great interest in adjusting his belt.
They all ken something is wrong between the lady and me.
Ian’s jaw tightened as he walked on. His thoughts drifted to the past few weeks. Slowly, almost without noticing it, Arianna had begun to trust him. She had laughed more easily, walked beside him through the forest trails, and spoken her thoughts without hesitation.
Those moments had felt honest. Real.
Now I'm afraid they might be gone forever.
He crossed through the kitchens where several servants prepared the midday meal. The smell of roasting meat hung heavily in the air. Ian barely spared the room a glance before continuing through the doors that led to the gardens.
Still no sign of her.