Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The gates of Castle McGuire opened at their approach, torches flaring as men rushed forward to welcome their Laird home.
Arianna barely had time to take in the familiar stone walls before Ian lifted her effortlessly from the horse, his arms closing around her with unyielding strength as though he had no intention of ever letting her go again.
She felt the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek as he carried her across the courtyard, her fingers curling lightly into the fabric of his tunic as a deep sense of relief began to settle within her.
“Ye’re safe now,” Ian murmured against her hair as he strode through the great doors. “Back where ye belong.”
Arianna did not argue, though her voice softened as she said, “Yer castle.”
Ian glanced down at her, something fierce and tender flickering in his eyes.
“Our home,” he corrected quietly, and the words stirred something deep within her chest. He carried her through the corridors and into her bedchamber without pause, kicking the door shut behind him as the warmth of the fire wrapped around them.
He set her gently upon the bed, though his hands lingered at her waist as though reluctant to release her.
The rabbit hopped over to her feet.
“Oh, me pet,” Arianna said. Her eyes were watering. Ian lifted the bunny and placed it in her arms. She held the creature close for a few moments before setting it down again.
Ian continued attending her wounds.
“I thought I had lost ye,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, and Arianna’s breath caught at the raw honesty in his tone.
“Ye didnae,” she replied softly, though the faint tremor in her voice betrayed the fear she had carried.
“But I might have,” he insisted, as though the thought alone pained him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence thick with everything that had gone unspoken between them. Then Ian moved to the wash basin, dipping a cloth into warm water before returning to her side, his expression settling into quiet focus.
“Hold still,” he said gently, and Arianna obeyed as he began to clean the dirt and blood from her hands. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as though she was something fragile, and it made her chest ache in a way she could not quite explain.
“Does it pain ye?” he asked, glancing up briefly as he worked, his brows drawn together in concern.
“A little. Me wrists are sore,” she admitted, and he frowned as though even that small answer displeased him.
“I should have found ye sooner,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. He placed a soft kiss on each wrist.
Arianna shook her head faintly. “Ian…” she began, but he spoke over her, his voice low and steady.
“Why did ye leave?” he asked.
Arianna looked away, gathering her thoughts as her fingers twisted slightly in the fabric of her skirt. “I didnae ken what else to do,” she said at last. “After I learned of the clause… I felt as though everythin' between us had been built on a lie.”
Ian’s hands stilled, the cloth pausing against her skin as his expression hardened. “I told ye I kent nothin' of it,” he said, a trace of frustration slipping into his voice, though it lacked the sharpness it once held.
“Aye,” Arianna replied quietly, lifting her gaze to meet his. “But I didnae ken who to trust.”
The words seemed to strike him more deeply than any accusation.
She held his gaze, her voice steady despite the vulnerability beneath it.
“I couldnae send word to me brother,” she continued.
“I didnae ken who might carry a letter without it being read or twisted. I felt… alone. So I thought to simply go tell him meself.”
Ian exhaled slowly, setting the cloth aside as something in his expression shifted. “Ye should have come to me,” he said, his voice quieter now, stripped of its earlier edge. “I would have taken ye to yer family.”
Arianna’s lips parted slightly as she searched his face. “I wasnae sure of anythin',” she admitted.
He reached out then, his hand brushing gently against her cheek, his touch grounding and warm. “I hope ye ken now,” he said softly, “that I would risk me life for ye.”
Arianna held his gaze, the truth of his words settling deep within her. “Aye,” she said, her voice steady. “I do.”
Silence settled between them once more, but it was no longer strained or uncertain. Something had shifted, something fragile yet powerful, mending the distance that had once stood between them. Ian’s hand lingered against her cheek as he leaned closer, and this time Arianna did not pull away.
Their lips met in a kiss that was soft at first, almost hesitant, as though both feared breaking what they had just begun to rebuild.
But the moment deepened quickly, the weight of fear, longing, and unspoken feeling pouring into the touch.
Arianna’s hand rose to his shoulder, holding him there as though anchoring herself to something real and certain at last.
Then a sharp knock sounded at the door, breaking the moment. Arianna pulled away reluctantly, drawing a quiet breath as reality returned.
“Ian?” came Melissa’s voice from the other side of the door. “We’ve brought the baths.”
Ian exhaled, his forehead resting briefly against Arianna’s before he straightened.
“Enter,” he called, his voice steadier now.
The door opened, and Melissa stepped in, directing two servants who carried large tubs into the chamber, steam rising softly from the water within the buckets carried by more servants who trailed behind.
Melissa’s eyes found Arianna immediately, and relief flooded her face. “Oh, thank the heavens,” she said, hurrying forward and wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace. “I was so worried for ye.”
Arianna returned the hug, a small, genuine smile touching her lips. “I’m well enough,” she said gently.
Melissa pulled back, her eyes bright as she looked her over. “Aye, ye look it,” she said, though her gaze lingered briefly on the bruises.
“I will heal,” Arianna said.
“Should ye need anythin' at all…” Melissa said.
“Thank ye,” Arianna replied.
The servants departed, and the chamber door closed once more.
Steam curled gently from the two waiting tubs, the firelight flickering against the water’s surface.
Ian moved first, stepping toward Arianna and offering his hand without a word.
She placed her fingers in his, allowing him to guide her carefully to the bath as though she were something precious.
“Easy now,” he murmured, his voice low and steady as he helped her. He stood behind her and began to untie the laces of her dress. Arianna remembered a time he had done this before, and it felt so long ago now.
She heard him release a low moan as her skin became exposed as he slipped the dress off.
He helps her step into the warm water. Arianna sank slowly into the bath, the heat easing the ache in her muscles and the lingering chill from the night. She exhaled softly, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since her capture.
Ian stepped back then, giving her space as he reached for his own garments. Without ceremony, he disrobed and stepped into the second tub beside hers.
Arianna could not help but glance at him.
Her eyes lingered for a moment longer than she intended as she took in the strength of him, the broad lines of his shoulders, and the hard-earned muscle of a warrior who had spent his life in battle.
She had seen him fight, fierce and unyielding, cutting through men as though nothing could stand against him.
A strange warmth stirred within her chest as she remembered the way he had come for her without hesitation.
He had come for me.
Ian leaned back slightly in the water, letting out a quiet breath as the heat seeped into his skin. “I owe ye an apology,” he said after a moment, his gaze shifting toward her.
Arianna looked at him more fully now. “For what?” she asked softly.
“For nae tellin' ye about the raiders,” he replied. “We’ve been tracking them across the land for weeks.”
Her brows drew together slightly. “Why did ye nae tell me?”
“Because there was already strife between us,” he admitted. “I didnae wish to add to it by giving ye more to worry about.”
Arianna studied him in silence.
“I thought it best to handle it meself,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “To keep ye from fear, from danger.”
“And instead, I rode straight into it,” she said gently.
A flicker of regret crossed his face. “Aye,” he said. “And that was me failin'.” He straightened slightly. “It was a mistake,” he said firmly. “From now on, ye will ken all matters of this clan… if ye still wish to remain me wife, that is.”
Arianna stilled. The words settled over her, unexpected in their weight. For a moment, she said nothing. The water rippled softly around her as her fingers traced absent patterns along its surface, her thoughts turning inward.
He's offering me a choice, something I had not believed I truly had before. Not the council, not the contract, but me own will.
She lifted her gaze to him. “Ye would let me out of the contract freely?” she asked quietly.
Ian did not hesitate. “Aye,” he said.
There was no anger in his voice, no bitterness. Only truth.
“I want ye to ken that I wish ye to remain me wife,” he continued, his tone deepening with emotion. “More than anything. But I will nae force ye into it.”
Arianna’s breath caught slightly.
“I will plunge into despair if ye choose to leave,” he went on, a faint, rueful edge to his voice, “but I would rather suffer that than bind ye to me unwillingly.”
The sincerity in his words struck her deeply.
“I want it to be yer choice,” he said. “Nae the council, nae some contract. Yer choice alone.”
The room felt very still.
“And ken this,” Ian added softly, his gaze never leaving hers. “Me heart is true. I want ye, and only ye. I would never betray ye or yer family.”
Arianna held his gaze, something within her finally settling into place.
All the doubt, all the fear that had driven her from the castle seemed to loosen its hold.
She saw him clearly now, not as a man bound by politics or hidden intentions, but as the man who had crossed the dark forest to bring her home.
The man who had risked death for her and who now chooses her.
“I wish to remain yer wife, Ian,” she said.
The words were quiet, but they carried certainty. For a moment, Ian simply stared at her, as though he scarcely dared believe what he had heard. Then a breath escaped him, one filled with relief so profound it softened every hard edge of his expression.
A slow grin spread across his face. “Ye’ve nay idea what that does to me,” he murmured.
Arianna felt a small smile tug at her lips in return. The tension that had once stretched between them was gone, replaced by something warmer, steadier. The soft sound of water and the crackle of the fire filled the silence as they regarded one another.
And for the first time since their marriage began, Arianna felt like this was a beginning rather than a bargain.
Half an hour later, Ian rose first from the bath, water cascading from his shoulders as he stepped onto the stone floor. He reached for a cloth and dried before turning back to Arianna.
“Come now,” he said softly, his voice steady as ever. Arianna placed her hands in his, allowing him to guide her as she stepped from the tub, her breath catching slightly at the cool air against her damp skin.
“I find me appetite has grown rather fierce,” Ian added, a teasing glint in his eye as he steadied her.
Arianna lifted a brow, catching the tone beneath his words, and a faint smile curved her lips. “Has it now?” she replied, her voice light despite the warmth rising in her cheeks.
Ian’s gaze lingered on her a moment too long before he smirked. “Aye,” he said, reaching for a thick wool blanket and wrapping it gently around her shoulders. “Though I confess, I was speaking of food… for the moment.”
She shook her head faintly, amused despite herself.
Ian stepped back then, pulling on fresh garments with swift, practiced movements.
“Stay here,” he said, fastening his tunic as he glanced toward her. “I’ll return shortly.”
Arianna nodded, watching as he moved toward the door. “Daenae disappear again,” he added, a trace of dry humor in his voice, before he slipped out into the corridor.
The chamber fell quiet once more. Arianna settled onto the edge of the bed, drawing the blanket more tightly around herself as the warmth from the bath lingered on her skin. Her thoughts turned inward, unwelcome and yet impossible to ignore.
I was a fool for doubting him.
She had questioned his intentions and fled from the very place that now felt like a sanctuary.
A faint ache settled in her chest. He had come for her without hesitation, riding into danger with men who were willing to fight and die at his side.
Not for duty alone, but for her. Arianna lowered her gaze, her fingers curling into the wool as realization settled deep within her.
I had been wrong.
The sound of the door opening drew her from her thoughts.
Ian entered once more, this time followed by a servant carrying a large wooden tray laden with food. Another servant followed behind, arms full of additional dishes, the rich scent of roasted meats and spices filling the room almost instantly.
Ian gestured toward the table near the fire. “Set it there,” he instructed.
The servants moved quickly, arranging the feast before bowing and departing. Arianna blinked as she took in the spread before her.
There was roasted fish glistening with herbs, thick slices of bread still warm from the oven, and a hearty stew rich with root vegetables and tender meat.
A wheel of cheese sat beside fresh butter, along with oatcakes stacked neatly on a wooden board.
Small dishes of honeyed fruits and sugared pastries completed the meal, while a steaming pot of tea and a bottle of whisky were set beside two cups.
“Saints preserve us,” Arianna murmured. “That is more food than I could ever eat.”
Ian chuckled as he poured tea into one of the cups, handing it to her before taking his own seat. “We’ve both been through an ordeal,” he said. “Ye must eat, lass.”
Arianna accepted the cup, the warmth seeping into her hands as she looked at him over the rim.
She took a small sip, the heat of the tea comforting, grounding. For a moment, they sat together in quiet, the fire crackling softly as the weight of the past days began to lift. Arianna reached for a piece of bread at last, breaking it slowly as she glanced toward him.
And this time, when she met his gaze, there was no doubt lingering in her heart.
He is me husband, a good man, better than I could have ever kent.