Chapter 10
10
Ian groaned as the incessant pounding at his door grew louder, matching the pounding of his head from the wine he had drunk the night before. “Hold on ye lout!” he shouted, throwing back the covers and donning his tartan, the only thing he could find within reach. He had imbibed in too much wine and ale at dinner last night and now he was paying the price.
Throwing open the door, he found his sister standing on the other side, her hand raised to beat on the wood once again. “Wot?” he asked roughly.
She winced, rubbing her own temples at his harsh voice. “Not so loud Ian. Mah head is pounding.”
He imagined that wasn’t the only pounding going on last eve. James and Iris had snuck in sometime after midnight, her with dirt on her dress and James a cut over his eye. Ian had already rocked his sleepy niece asleep and laid her down in her bed before his sister had shown her face. Iris had shooed him out with a giggle, telling him that his services weren’t required any longer. Ian had left, shaking his head but there was a smile on his face. His sister had met her match the day she wed Lennox.
Right now, though, Iris looked pale and Ian’s throat bobbed with concern. “I was summoned by the laird this morn,” she said, clenching her hands together nervously and his stomach fell. “He’s denied yer request and wants ye gone before sundown.”
Ian’s shoulders slumped. These were not the words he wanted to hear. “Did he say why?”
She shook his head. “He’s in a right awful mood, Ian. I donna think no amount of groveling would get an audience today or any day right now.”
He felt like a failure. Pushing away from the door, he raked his hands through his hair roughly, tugging on its roots. “I canna believe it.”
“Tis not yer fault,” she said, laying a hand on his bare shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze as any sister would do. “Ye gave it yer best Ian. There will be other times. I’m certain of it.”
But what was to say that he wouldn’t destroy the other opportunities as well? Ian shook his head. It was his fault. He was the laird and therefore had the responsibility of solidifying the alliance for the sake of his people.
Yet he would have to go back to his own council and explain how he failed them.
“Wot can I do?” she asked hesitantly. “Wot do ye need?”
“I need a plan,” he muttered, pacing the room now. “I need this tae work.”
“You could marry someone in the village,” Iris said after a moment. “Show that ye are looking to unite the two clans in marriage. Ye are a laird.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “The laird doesna have any daughters but he does have a niece!” Iris grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop his pacing. “Ye could wed Ida.”
Ian froze, thinking of how he had the same thought the previous evening. He liked Ida. He was attracted to her but wed her?
“Tis perfect,” his sister was saying, a smile on her face. “Ida is a lovely lass and she would make ye a good wife Ian.”
He didn’t doubt it for a moment. Ida was a strong lass, one who wasn’t afraid of hard work or speaking her mind. She would fare well in his clan. “I will think on it,” he finally said. “But I need tae go back tae the clan for now Iris.” He had to leave and make certain that the clan was safe and formulate a plan if the MacGregor laird decided to attack. He wouldn’t leave his clansmen without a leader, one that was responsible for what might happen to begin with.
“I know,” Iris said, pulling him into an embrace. “This will work out Ian. Ye will see that everything will work out in the end.”
Ian could only hope that was the truth. Pulling away from his sister, he ran a hand over his face. “I must gather mah things.”
She gave him a long look but in the end, left him alone in his chamber to gather his things. He couldn’t think about marrying Ida right now or even courting the lass properly. His first priority was to get back home and make a plan.
After dressing, Ian met with Remy and Dalziel in the great hall, where the others gave him a wide berth, looks of disgust on their faces. “I take it we are no longer welcome,” Remy muttered, looking around. “I swear some of these Scots were drinking with mah last evening.”
“The laird has declared that we must leave,” Ian explained quickly. “I donna want tae tarry any longer than necessary.” He looked at Dalziel. “Gather the men. We ride shortly.”
Dalziel gave him a nod and walked off to do Ian’s bidding, leaving the two friends alone. “I will go get the horses,” Remy started out.
“Nay,” Ian said quickly. “I will.”
Remy gave him a sidelong glance. “Because of a certain lass that may or may not be waiting?”
Ian glared at him. “Just make certain that everyone is ready tae leave before the hour is up.”
Iris was the next to stop him, tears glimmering in her eyes as she embraced him. “Donna give up hope,” she whispered as he clutched her. “Tis not the end.”
“Donna hesitate tae come home at the first thought of bloodshed,” he whispered back. “Ye always have a place there lass, ye and James.”
She gave him a nod and walked off, wiping her eyes. Ian felt like a failure. He had caused this burden on his sister and that was never his intention. Ian walked out of the keep and to the stables, his heart pounding in his chest. Ida was standing near the door, her eyes widening as she saw him. “Did ye get another meeting with the laird?” she asked as he approached.
Ian shook his head and her face fell. Yet another person he had disappointed. “Nay I dinna lass. I have tae leave.”
“Oh,” she simply said, walking into the stables. “Then we best retrieve yer horses.”
Ian didn’t know what to say to her, his words feeling small and insignificant. “I’m verra sorry lass.”
She rounded on him. “For wot?”
“For letting ye down,” he answered in a rush. “I promised ye I would stop the bloodshed but in the end, I failed.”
She let out a snort, taking a step toward him. “Really Ian? Are ye really shouldering all the blame for wot happened?”
How could he not? He hadn’t completed his mission. He had only made things worse between the two clans. “But.”
Ida shook her head, reaching up to press her finger against his lips. “Nay Ian. Tis nothing more than a minor setback in yer grand plans. Ye canna lose hope, not now.”
It was the very same thing his sister had said to him. He must keep the hope that he could fix this still. That and he was acutely aware of her finger pressed against his lips. She must have realized it as well because she dropped her hand, but not before he grabbed it and pulled her closer to him. “Tell mah, Ida,” he said softly. “How can ye have so much faith in mah?”
Her eyes shined with some unnamed emotion as she looked at him. “Because ye are a good Scot Ian. I could care naught aboot yer last name. Yer actions have shown yer true self.”
She saw him. Ian felt the blood rush to his ears at her declaration. She didn’t see him as a Wallace. She saw him as Ian.
Perhaps he should extend his proposal to her now, take her away with him to what had to be a better life for her.
Ida cocked her head to the side as the thoughts raged within him. “Wot is it Ian?”
All he had to do was say the words, but in that moment, all he really wanted to do was kiss her. He wanted to feel her lips against his, hear her sighs as he pleasured her with his mouth. He dipped his head and Ida’s lips parted in anticipation, waiting for him to do what he had been thinking.
“Ian?”
Ian broke apart from Ida as Remy’s voice filled the air, a scant second before his friend entered the stables. “Wot are ye doing?”
“I was saying goodbye tae Ida,” he forced out, his voice a bit rushed. Remy arched a brow, clearly wanting to know what he had interrupted but when Ian turned back, Ida was already leading their horses out of their stalls, avoiding his eyes. “Here ye are mah laird,” she said softly.
Ian reached out and took the reins from her, their fingers brushing just a hair and her breath hitched just slightly, making him wish he had kissed her after all. “Thank ye, Ida.”
She bobbed her head and moved to get the remainder of the horses, the silence awkward and painful. When all the horses were out of their stalls, Ian cast one more look at the lass who would no doubt occupy his thoughts for some time to come. She opened her mouth to say something to him, but then shut it and Ian realized that there was nothing more to say.
He had to leave.
Ian dipped his head and headed outside, where his men were climbing into their saddles, murmuring amongst themselves. Ian did the same, glancing back at the stable one more time. Ida was standing in the doorway, her eyes on him and she lifted her hand in farewell.
His heart clenched in his chest, leaving Ian yearning o go back to her, to not leave. She had touched him in more ways than he had thought and now he felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind.
“Are ye ready mah laird?” Remy asked, breaking their connection.
Ian tore his gaze away from Ida and clenched his jaw. “Aye. Let’s ride for home.”
“She would come if ye asked her,” Remy said softly where only Ian could hear. “Ye can give her a better life.”
Ian shook his head. “Not now.” He couldn’t just take a member of the MacGregor clan with him, especially not the niece of the laird. That would be a death sentence for his clan and he had to put them first.
“So we will be back?” Remy pressed as Ian straightened in his saddle, gathering the reins.
“Aye,” Ian replied before setting his horse into motion. He didn’t once look back at Ida, knowing that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to leave. She understood why he had to leave, but it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be back for her, for this hope that she had told him not to lose.
It would be her words that he would cling to during their time apart and when he came back to the MacGregor keep, he would seek her out for more than just a conversation or words of encouragement.