Page 19 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
Maybe I can find another way,maybe if I approach it just right, explain the situation honestly…
But what honest explanation could possibly make this acceptable? That he needed her clan’s consent more than hers? That her value lay in preventing war rather than in her own remarkable spirit? That the woman who carried herself withsuch self-respect despite what she’d been through was worth more as a political pawn than as a person?
God forgive me,please dinnae let me become exactly the sort of man I swore I’d never be.
Ian thought all this making his way through the castle corridors toward Rhona’s chamber. When he reached her door, he could hear the soft sounds of footsteps pacing, just as Moira had described. Ian knocked gently, steeling himself for what might be his last peaceful interaction with her.
“Come,” came her voice from within, though he could clearly hear the tension threading through it.
Ian stepped into the chamber, and immediately felt the weight of what he’d have to destroy. Rhona stood near the window, and when she looked at him, her blue eyes held a wariness that made his chest ache. She was already sensing the change in him, the burden he carried.
I cannae dae this now, I will dae it tomorrow, fer after that, she’ll likely never look at me the same way,. After tomorrow, I’ll just be another Wallace laird usin’ her fer his own ends, ‘till the day I die.
“Thought ye might be hungry,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady despite the turmoil in his chest. He kept his tone carefully controlled, already practicing the careful distance he’d need to maintain tomorrow when he would have no other choicebut to ask the impossible of her. “Would ye like tae join us, or can I have somethin’ sent up here fer ye?”
“Here, if ye please,” Rhona replied, and Ian caught the way she studied his face, as if trying to read his mind.
Ian nodded and spoke quietly to the servants waiting in the corridor, arranging for a proper meal. As they hurried away, he found himself lingering, torn between the desire to offer her comforting words, and the knowledge that tomorrow would surely bring the conversation he was putting off.
“Try tae rest well taenight, lass,” he said finally, his voice rougher than intended.
Something flashed in Rhona’s eyes – a shadow of unease that suggested she sensed the weight behind his simple words. But all she said was, “Aye. Good night, Ian.”
He stepped back into the corridor, closing the heavy door with deliberate care, already dreading what dawn would bring.
CHAPTER SIX
“Where is she?” Ian asked the guard stationed outside Rhona’s door, his stomach tight with dread after a sleepless night spent wrestling with his Council’s demands. The morning had dawned gray and cold, matching his mood as he wondered how on earth he was supposed to propose marriage to a woman who considered him her captor and enemy. The whole thing felt ridiculously absurd and manipulative – yet the alternative was war.
“The garden, me laird. Takin’ air with Moira. Two guards watchin’, of course.”
Ian’s heart had nearly stopped upon finding the room empty. She hadn’t escaped – she was simply outside. Still, his pulse didn’t settle until he reached the castle’s walled garden and saw her seated on a stone bench.
Saints above, she’s ravishing.
The thought hit him like a fist to the gut as he watched her from the garden entrance. Even from this distance, he could see the graceful line of her neck as she tilted her head to catch the morning sun, the way her slender fingers traced patterns on the stone bench beside her. The sight of her sitting peacefully in his garden, looking almost at home, sent an unexpected warmth through his chest that had nothing to do with politics or duty.
Rhona looked up as he approached, wariness flickering in those clear blue eyes She wore the same blue dress from the day before, and the morning light caught the fire in her hair, setting it ablaze like flames dancing in silk. Even with exhaustion shadowing her features, she was a striking beauty.
How the bloody hell am I supposed tae ask her tae marry me when I can barely think straight just lookin’ at her?
The thought made his palms sweat.
Focus on the clan. On duty.
“Me laird,” she said carefully, her voice neutral. “I hope ye dinnae mind. I needed some fresh air.”
“Of course nae.” Ian dismissed the guards with a single gesture, though Moira remained gathering herbs near the garden wall. “Actually, I wanted tae speak with ye.”
Rhona’s posture tensed. “About what?”
Ian took a deep breath, his mouth dry as sand. “About what’s best fer our clans. ‘Tis time we brought peace between our peoples.”
“Peace.” Rhona’s voice was carefully controlled. “And how exactly dae ye believe we can bring peace?”
Here it was. The moment that would change everything between them. Though for better or worse, Ian couldn’t tell.
“Marriage,” Ian said, the word dropping between them like a stone into still water. “Between us.”
