Page 44 of The Laird’s Vengeful Desire (The Highland Sisters’ Secret Desires #2)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“ I thought I’d find ye here.”
Ian didn’t turn around at the sound of Rhona’s voice, though his shoulders tensed at her approach. He sat on the moss-covered boulder beside the waterfall, staring at the rushing water as if it might hold answers to questions he couldn’t even properly form.
“How did ye ken?” he asked quietly, still not looking at her.
“Tristan said ye’d gone somewhere ye could think clearly.” Rhona’s voice was closer now, and Ian could hear the soft rustle of her skirts as she settled on a nearby rock. “I kenned this was the place.”
Ian finally turned to look at her, taking in the way the afternoon light caught the copper threads in her dark ginger hair, the concern evident in her blue eyes. She’d ridden hard to find him – her cheeks were flushed from the wind and her breathing slightly uneven.
“Ye should have stayed at the castle,” he said, though there was no real rebuke in his voice. “These lands arenae safe fer ye tae be ridin’ alone.”
“I ken,” she said quietly, approaching him with careful steps. “I had me dirk with me, and besides, Tristan seemed tae think ye might need… company.”
“Did he now?” Ian’s mouth curved in a bitter smile.
“What’s this about, Ian?” Rhona asked gently. “Council pressure about the marriage?”
Ian was quiet for a long moment, his gaze returning to the waterfall. The flushing water filled the silence between them, a constant, soothing sound that had always helped clear his thoughts.
“Among other things,” he said finally. “’Tis more complicated than just the Council.”
“Explain it tae me, then.” Rhona said, shifting closer on her rock. “Maybe we can find a solution together.”
The word ‘together’ sent unexpected warmth shooting through Ian’s chest, followed swiftly by a stab of guilt.
How dae I tell her that every solution tae this mess requires a sacrifice from her?
How could he tell her that the very conversation they were having might very well be the last honest one they could share?
“When I first came here,” Ian began slowly, “I hated this clan with every fiber of me being.”
Rhona’s eyebrows rose. “Ye hated yer own people.”
“Aye, but they werenae me people then. They were the bastards who’d cast us out, who’d turned their backs on me family when we needed help most.” His voice carried the weight of old pain, old anger.
“Me grandfaither raised me on tales of their cruelties, their betrayals, and I swore tae never be like them.”
“But ye came anyway.”
“Aye. Because the king commanded it, and because…” Ian paused, struggling to find the right words. “Because I thought I could make them pay fer what they’d done. I thought I could come here and be the laird they deserved – cold and distant.”
Rhona was quiet for a moment, studying his profile. “But that’s nae who ye are.”
“Nay.” Ian’s laugh was humorless. “And that’s the problem. I came here expectin’ tae find monsters… and instead I found good folk who’d been hurt by poor leadership, who were just tryin’ tae survive and protect their families.”
“Like ye said before – they weren’t responsible fer Douglas’s actions.”
“Exactly.” Ian turned to face her fully, his green eyes blazing with frustrated confusion. “How can I hate them fer that? How can I condemn an entire clan fer the actions of one vile man? But if I dinnae… if I let myself care about them…”
“Then ye’re betrayin’ yer grandfaither’s memory?” Rhona guessed.
“Aye. And more than that – I’m betrayin’ everythin’ I thought I kenned about meself.
About honor and justice and what it truly means tae be a Wallace.
” Ian scrubbed a hand through his dark hair.
“Me grandfaither taught me strength comes from standin’ by yer principles, nae matter the cost. But now… ”
“Now?” Rhona pressed gently.
“Now I dinnae ken what me principles are anymore.” The admission came out raw and honest. “I look at Baird, at the young soldiers, at the villagers we helped after the raid, and I see people worth protectin’.”
Rhona reached out without thinking, placing her hand on his where it rested on the stone between them. “Ian, that daesnae make ye weak. It makes ye a good leader.”
“Daes it?” Ian’s eyes searched her face desperately. “Or does it make me a fool who’s forgotten where he came from?”
“It makes ye a man who can open his mind and look at things with new eyes.” Rhona said firmly. “Yer grandfaither would be proud of ye fer that.”
“Would he? When the very people I’m protectin’ are the ones who turned him away?”
“He’d be proud because ye’re daein’ what’s right, nae what’s easy.” Rhona’s voice grew passionate. “That’s true strength, Ian. True honor.”
For a moment, Ian allowed himself to believe her words, to feel the weight of her support like a balm on his wounded soul. But reality crashed back in with crushing force.
“It daesnae matter what me grandfaither would think,” he said bitterly. “None of it matters when me Council’s breathin’ down me neck, demandin’ solutions I cannae give them.”
Rhona’s hand tightened on his. “What sort of solutions?”
Ian sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion and something that sounded like defeat.
“They want us married as soon as possible.” He said simply.
“And now there’s another complication – we’ve received a letter from the king this mornin’.
Someone’s been spinnin’ tales in His Majesty’s ear about ye…
fillin’ his head with accusations about yer… situation here.”
Rhona’s face went pale. “ The king ?”
“Aye. He’s comin’ tae Castle Wallace within the fortnight tae investigate and retrieve ye.” Ian’s voice was heavy with the weight of the news. “So now ‘tis nae just about preventin’ war with yer father – ‘tis about convincin’ the king that ye havenae been… compromised durin’ yer time here.”
“And marriage would solve that?”
“It would legitimize yer presence. Make ye me wife rather than a captive.” Ian met her gaze steadily. “But only if ye can convince His Majesty that ye chose it willingly.”
“And what happens if I refuse?”
“Then we’ll face whatever consequences come from it,” Ian said quietly. “But the danger we’re facin’ is more real than ever, Rhona.”
“So ye want me tae marry ye tae spare ye and yer clan from the king’s wrath?” her words came out surprisingly flat and neutral.
“I want…” Ian stopped, frustration flickering across his features. “I dinnae ken what I want anymore, Rhona. Every solution I can think of requires ye tae sacrifice somethin’ precious.”
“And what would ye be sacrificin’?” Rhona asked quietly.
“Me honor. Me principles. The promise I made tae never be a man who uses people fer political gain.”
“So… marryin’ me… that would be usin’ me fer political gain?”
“Wouldn’t it?” Ian’s voice was heavy with self-loathing. “Ye’re here against yer will. Ye have nay real choice in the matter. If I marry ye now, how is that any different from what Douglas would have done?”
Rhona stared at him. “Is that truly how ye see it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “As somethin’ ye’d be forced tae dae?”
“I see it as the only way tae keep everyone safe,” Ian said bluntly. “Includin’ ye.”
“But nae somethin’ ye’d want… nae if ye had a real choice?”
Ian turned to look at her then, and the expression in her eyes made his heart stop. There was pain there, and longing, and something that almost looked like self-doubt.
Tell her the truth, ye fool! Tell her that ye think about her every wakin’ moment and that the thought of losin’ her makes ye feel like ye’re drownin’.
“If I had any real choice,” he said slowly. “I’d court ye properly. I’d earn yer affection instead of demandin’ it. I’d give ye ample time tae see past our clans’ history. I’d…” he stopped, shaking his head. “But I dinnae have that luxury. None of us dae.”
“So ye’d only be marryin’ me out of duty. Naethin’ else.” Rhona’s voice was carefully controlled, but Ian could hear the hurt underneath.
“I’d marry ye because I’d rather live with the guilt of forcin’ ye than with the knowledge that I could have saved ye and chose nae tae.”
“How noble of ye!” Rhona said, her voice bitter. “The great laird, sacrificin’ his honor tae save the poor, helpless lass.”
“That’s nae what I meant–”
“Nay?” Rhona stood abruptly, pacing to the edge of the water. “Ye speak of sacrifice and duty and political necessity but what about me? Nae the lass in the dungeon… me .”
Ian rose as well, moving toward her with careful steps. “Then tell me. What dae ye want Rhona?”
She spun to face him, her blue eyes blazing with emotion. “I want tae matter! I want tae be more than just a problem tae be solved or a buffer to prevent war! I want…”
“What?” Ian pressed gently.
“I want ye tae marry me because of who I am, nae because of what it could accomplish.” She said, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “I want tae ken that if our situations were different – if there were nay clans or threats – ye might still choose me.”
Ian stared at her, seeing the tears she refused to let flow and the way her hands shook slightly at her sides.
“Rhona,” he said softly, taking another step toward her. “If things were different, if ye were free, and I were just a man instead of a laird with impossible choices tae make–”
“Then what?” she whispered.
“I’d have been on me knees already, beggin’ ye tae be me wife.”
She stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deception, any hint that he was telling her what she wanted to hear.
“But that’s nae the world we live in.” Ian continued, his voice breaking slightly. “And I cannae pretend otherwise, nay matter how much I wish I could.”
“So what now?” Rhona challenged, “We pretend this conversation never happened? Ye go back tae yer Council and tell them ye’ll force me tae marry ye fer the good of the clan?”
“I dinnae ken,” Ian admitted, the raw honesty of it somehow worse than any lie could have been “I truly dinnae ken what tae dae anymore.”