Chapter 2
2
After leaving her chambers, Gretna grabbed her cloak and made her way down the stairs to the great hall, paying more attention to the place she called home now that she was leaving. The walls were familiar around her, giving her a sense of peace and though she knew she had to make this journey, there was a bit of apprehension about leaving what she was familiar with. After all, who knew what they would find on this journey?
Straightening her shoulders once more, Gretna walked into her brother’s study, finding Ian behind the table that served as his desk. While her brother had been a fierce warrior in his day, he wasn’t keen on being very, well, tidy as a laird. Papers and scrolls were strewn about the study, stacking high in some places and threatening to topple over. There was a cup at his elbow, the liquid likely long cold since it had been delivered, and an untouched plate of food that served as her brother’s breakfast. If it wasn’t for her sister-in-law, Gretna doubted that her brother would even stop to eat.
“Ian.” She called.
Ian looked up from the paper he had been reading, his brow still furrowed at the contents. “I’m aboot tae depart,” she said hastily, gripping her hands tightly together. “Tae McCellan.”
“Ah, yes,” Ian replied, comprehension dawning on his face. “Tis already time I suppose?”
Gretna nodded and her brother gestured to the chair before him. “Sit for a moment.”
“I donna have long,” Gretna started, glancing out of the window at the carriage. “We are already likely behind schedule.”
Ian chuckled. “Schedules. Ye always were the one tae ensure that we were never late tae anything.”
Gretna suppressed her own smile. “I couldna depend on the rest of our family.”
“I suppose not,” Ian answered, leaning back in his chair and looking more like their da than Gretna realized. Over time, she had forgotten about their da in this room or even in the keep itself, growing used to Ian being the laird and her memories gradually fading over time.
But now she could hear his booming voice, smell the faint wetness of his furs when he could come in from the rain and find her in his study, a book in her hand. Would he want her to do this?
“Yer thinking aboot him,” Ian stated quietly, grief etched on his face even after all this time.
“Aye,” she answered. “I was thinking aboot wot he would say today.”
Ian leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “He would likely say something profound and encouraging.”
“Which ye aren’t going tae do,” she countered, giving him a tiny smile.
Her brother returned her smile with one of his own. “Which I’m not going tae do. I will tell ye that I’m worried aboot this journey, Gretna. The McCellans.”
“Are not the easiest clan tae converse with,” Gretna finished for him. “I know, Ian. I can take care of mahself. I’m a Wallace.”
A spark of pride shone in her brother’s eyes, causing Gretna to sit up straighter. “There’s a great burden that rests on yer shoulders, Gretna. If ye can secure this alliance with yer marriage, it will bring an even greater ally tae the table for the Wallace clan.”
Gretna knew that. She knew that she could bring great honor to their clan.
“Ye can do something that Lena or Iris could never do,” he continued. “Ye can forge something that could last for generations.” He reached into the drawer next to him, placing an object on the table. “But that doesna mean I can allow ye tae go unarmed.”
Gretna glanced at the bejeweled dagger, with one large emerald dancing in the morning light. “That was da’s.”
“It was,” Ian confirmed. “And he would want ye tae have it for this journey. Remember yer teachings, lass. A Wallace is never unprepared. Go on, take it.”
Gretna did just that, the gold and steel cool against her palm. She had trained just like her sisters had, though Lena had yet to truly go against an opponent with a real weapon in their hand. Gretna had, however, and she had one scar on the inside of her arm from her first bout with her brother, Stephan. He hadn’t apologized to her for scarring her so, only told her that she should keep her elbow up next time and helped her wrap the wound so it would stop bleeding.
Gretna hadn’t forgotten his tutelage and it was the last time she had let her elbow drop during a fight. That was what it meant to grow up in a house full of warriors. They were unapologetic, and while she and Lena had been sheltered more than Iris had when it came to the violence of the battlefield, they were often the siblings that were left behind at the keep. Their da had stated that they would never be unable to defend themselves and so from an early age, Gretna had learned hand-to-hand combat, wielding her wooden sword before she had her first bleed.
Now Lena was going through the same training, though Gretna expected that she was enjoying it a great deal more.
Gretna was meant for more than shedding blood on the battlefield and her time was nearly there. “Thank ye,” she told Ian, placing the dagger on her lap.
Ian looked at her, his expression hardening. “I know ye wish tae find love on this journey, Gretna, but the world around us is harsh. Sometimes we donna get wot we want immediately.”
Gretna glared at him. “Aye, we donna do, but ye found love with Ida.”
Ian’s cheeks flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, clearly embarrassed. “Aye, but that was different.”
“Tis no different and ye know it,” she shot back. “I want perfection in mah life. I want love in mah life. Why canna I have them both?” She wouldn’t settle for less than both. Her siblings could laugh and tell her that it wasn’t possible, but Gretna knew it could be possible. It was her life and she should voice how she wanted it. Ian and Iris both had found their perfect mates.
“Wot if this lad isna wot ye were hoping for?” Ian countered softly. “Wot then?”
Gretna refused to think of the heir as anything but her perfect husband. “I know this will work. Perhaps, he is the one I have been waiting for.” She would cling to that hope even if their first meeting wasn’t ideal. “I willna know unless I go, brother.”
Ian slumped against the chair. “There is no changing yer mind aboot being picky and holding out for love then?”
“Nay,” she said. “There isna.” She wouldn’t settle for anything less.
A knock on the door broke their conversation and Ian cleared his throat. “Enter.”
Gretna turned in her chair, her expression growing cold when she saw Remy enter the study, a smile on his face. “Are ye ready?”
Ready? Ready for what?
Her brother stood, pressing his hands flat against the table. “There have been rumors of highwaymen and murders on the route over the last few weeks. They are targeting anything that comes down that path and I am not aboot tae send mah sister without a proper escort.”
No, no this cannot be happening! “Ye donna mean him, do ye?” she blurted out.
“Thank ye for the vote of confidence, lass,” Remy answered smoothly, winking at her. Gretna just glared at him, wondering what other lasses saw in the cocky Scot. Sure he was easy in the eyes, but she doubted he had much between his ears. Remy had been his brother’s closest friend for as long as she could remember, always there to tease her about her over-the-top needs as she grew older. Lena loved Remy because he would indulge in her fighting whenever he had the chance, but Gretna had much preferred to stay away from him. He was too playful, not serious enough when he needed to be and there was no way he was going to be serious about this journey. “I donna need him,” she finally said, tearing her attention from him and back to her brother. “A few guards will suffice. I’m certain Remy has far more important things tae do, like work on his long list of lasses.”
Remy chuckled. “If ye would like tae be part of that, lass, all ye have tae do is ask.”
“Enough!” Ian nearly shouted, his face mottled red. “This isna up for negotiation, Gretna. Remy goes and heaven help him how he’s going tae put up with yer mouth the entire way.”
“Ye should be praying for mah instead, Ian,” Gretna bit out, rising from her chair, the dagger clasped tightly in her hand. “I donna know if I can keep mahself from stabbing him and ridding ye of another captain.”
Remy brought his hands to his chest, his expression solemn or as much as it could be with a twinkle in his eye. “Ye wound mah, Gretna. I never knew ye tae be so bloodthirsty.”
Gretna huffed a breath, feeling her ire double by the moment. “I donna have time tae spar words with ye. I have far more important things at hand, responsible things.”
“Well,” Remy drawled, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded her. “Perhaps, that is yer problem. Ye are too responsible for yer own good.”
Instead of giving Remy the satisfaction of another barb, Gretna turned to her brother, who had been watching the exchange helplessly. “I will succeed, brother,” she told him, lifting her chin. “And ye will have yer alliance.”
He eyed her. “Tis not all aboot mah alliance, Gretna. I know I’ve said?—”
She held up her hand, not wanting Remy to hear what they had discussed. He would likely only make fun of her need to find love and she didn’t have the patience to deal with him again. “I will see ye in a few weeks.”
With that, Gretna walked out of the study, feeling some of the tension ease from her shoulders the further away she got from Remy Wallace. If she couldn’t stop her brother from sending him with her, then she could very well ignore him the entire journey.
Remy watched Gretna walk out before turning to his oldest friend. “That went well.”
Ian sat back down, rubbing a hand over his face wearily. “Aye, just as I planned it.”
Remy didn’t respond, watching his friend as he struggled to pull himself back together. Ever since Ian had taken up the laird title, Remy had seen a change in him, though his marriage to Ida had brought out the friend that he remembered. They all told Ian not to take the title too seriously, that he was doing what was right for the clan, but sometimes it was like speaking to a stone wall.
They had discussed him going with Gretna before, which would be the most appropriate given the circumstances that they would be taking her into an enemy’s territory and Remy hadn’t fought Ian on the subject. He knew that Ian’s sisters meant the world to the laird and it was his duty as captain of the guard to ensure that everyone was safe.
Even a mouthy lass who couldn’t see her hand if it was in front of her face, because her nose was so far up in the air.
“I’m verra sorry ye will have tae deal with that,” Ian grumbled, looking up at his friend. “Tis going tae be a dangerous journey and I’m not talking aboot the highwaymen.”
Remy smirked. “Aye, I would rather face a battlefield full of enemies than feel her wrath again.” Normally Remy could woo any lass in just a few moments, but Gretna wasn’t an ordinary lass. If she had been born male, she would have made a formidable captain of the guard.
Ian chuckled. “She thinks that this is her love match. I’ve told her not tae get her hopes up, but ye know her.” He sighed. “I donna even care if she secures the alliance with McCellan, but she sees it as her personal duty.”
The whole clan knew that Gretna was holding out for a love match for a husband. Remy had watched repeatedly as suitors came to the clan and she had turned them all away, declaring that she would marry for love only. Love wasn’t something that Remy gave much thought to. He knew that Ian was in love with his wife, Ida, but Remy’s own da and ma had married out of self-preservation more than love. His ma had been looking for a roof over her head and a husband that could provide for her, which was what most marriages were built on. Ian was the exception to that and he hadn’t even been looking for Ida when he found her.
Nay, Gretna was going to see that she would have to pick something else other than love. Love was rare. “I will watch after her,” he finally said. “She is safe with mah.”
“I know,” Ian said simply. “Or else I would send someone else. At the first sign of trouble, ye make her leave, ye understand?”
Remy gave him a mocking salute. “Aye, Laird, I have mah marching orders.” He could handle Gretna. She might be strong-willed, but she was still a lass. Winning over the female kind was his specialty.
“Oh, and Remy?” Ian called out as Remy turned to go. “Donna feel the need tae wring her neck. The gods know she’s tried mah a time or two.”
Remy looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Donna fret, Ian. I can handle her.”
He hoped those words rang true.