Page 35 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
“That’s nae–” Ian started forward, then caught himself, his hands curling into fists once more.
She stepped closer, close enough now to see the way his pupils dilated at her advance, close enough to catch the scent of something uniquely him that made her treacherous pulse quicken. “Then enlighten me, me laird. Tell me exactly how much ye’re truly sufferin’ from this arrangement.”
Ian’s jaw worked silently for a moment, his green eyes blazing with frustration and something deeper, more dangerous. “More than ye’ll ever ken,” he said simply, his voice dark.
“Then send me home,” she shot back. “And face me faither’s wrath like the warrior ye’re always claimin’ tae be.”
“And what precisely dae ye think those consequences will be?” Ian’s voice grew harder, more dangerous.
The question hit her like a physical blow, driving the breath from her lungs.
“Me faither will want answers.” She said, though her voice had now lost some of its fire.
“Aye. And when those answers dinnae satisfy him? When he decides his daughter’s honor has been compromised?” Ian stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “What guarantees can I give him when I wasnae even here tae witness what happened?”
“I could–”
“Aye, and who would believe yer word? Ye’d never admit tae bein’ compromised, even it if had happened.”
She lifted her chin, refusing to show weakness despite the fear clawing at her throat. “Then we’ll deal with it.”
“We?” Ian’s laugh was as bitter as hope turned rancid. “There willnae be ‘we’ when the MacAlpin army comes ridin’ over those hills, lass. There’ll be blood and fire and death, and nay amount of noble intentions will stop it.”
“So this is all about yer conscience then?” The words tasted like ash in her mouth. “Ye want tae marry me tae ease yer guilt over what yer uncle did?”
“How many times dae I need tae say it before ye trulyhearme, Rhona?” Ian’s control finally cracked, his voice now rising to match hers. “If I get this wrong, good people, innocent people will die!”
“And what of me?” The question came out barely as a whisper, but the desperation in her voice seemed to echo in the suddenly quiet garden.
Ian’s expression softened fractionally. “I ken this isnae what ye want,” he said gently. “But Rhona… I’m askin’ ye tae consider that sometimes the right choice is the hardest one.”
Rhona stared at him for a long moment, seeing the weight he carried in the tight line of his shoulders, the exhaustion that hovered just below his remarkable eyes.
This isnae easy fer him either.
She could see that now. But understanding his position didn’t make her own any less impossible.
“What ye’re truly askin’,” she said finally, “is fer me tae stay trapped here forever.”
“Nae. I’m askin’ ye tae think about what matters more – yer freedom, or innocent lives.” Ian said bluntly.
“And what of me sisters?” Rhona shot back. “They think I’m dead, and ye refuse tae let me contact them. Me family is sufferin’ while ye–”
“Yer family will suffer far more when this turns intae open warfare.” Ian’s voice hardened.
“Then that’s yer problem tae solve, nae mine!”
“Aye, it would have been – if ye hadnae been daft enough makin’ it everyone’s problem by gettin’ yerself caught in the first place.” The words came out harsh and rough. “But here we are, and I’ll nae bring destruction and death tae me clan’s door because of yer whims.”
The word ‘whims’ cut deeper than any blade. Rhona stared at him for a long moment, seeing not the man who protected her, but the Highland laird who would sacrifice anything for his people’s survival.
“Och, I see exactly who ye are now, Ian Wallace,” she said quietly, then turned and walked away without another word.
Ian called her name, but she didn’t look back. There was nothing left to say.
The guards fell into step behind her as she made her way through corridors that felt more and more like a tomb with each passing step. When she finally reached her chamber, she dismissed them with a curt nod and closed the door with deliberate care.
Rhona stepped forward, moving toward the narrow window, pressing her palms against the cold stone as she stared out at the moonlit courtyard below.
