Page 43 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
“And what’s that?”
“A natural leader. Someone who inspires confidence instead of fear.” His green eyes held hers steadily. “Someone who’d make an excellent Lady of this castle.”
There it is again, a marriage proposal disguised as a compliment.
“I told ye me answer tae that,” she said stiffly, turning away to pack up her supplies.
“Aye. Ye did. But I still think ye’d be magnificent at it.”
Despite her irritation at his persistence, Rhona found herself oddly pleased by his praise. “Well, ye’re nae terrible at the leadin’ business yerself. I can see the men respect ye. Genuinely respect ye, nae just fear ye.”
Ian looked surprised by her words. “I thought ye said I was just like the old laird.”
“I said nay such thing.” Rhona faced him squarely. “I said ye were like every other Wallace, which I’ll admit was a tad unfair – fer ye’re naethin’ like Douglas.”
“How can ye be so certain?”
Rhona studied his face, noting the genuine uncertainty there, the way he seemed to doubt his own worthiness for the role he’d inherited. It was endearing, in a way that made her heart ache.
“Because ye have a heart,” she said simply. “Douglas never did.”
The words seemed to hit something deep within Ian. He stared at her for a long moment, something shifting in his expression that made her suddenly aware of how alone they were in the courtyard.
“Rhona, I–”
“Me lady!” the interruption came from young Alec, who came jogging back toward them with obvious excitement. “I was wonderin’ – would it be possible fer us tae come with ye when ye visit the village tomorrow? Tae practice firsthand what ye taught us?”
Rhona blinked at the unexpected request. “Visit the village? With me?”
“Aye,” Alec continued eagerly. “Baird mentioned ye might be goin’ tae help with some more ailments there and, well, wethought it might be good practice fer us tae see real patients instead of just each other.”
The suggestion was actually quite brilliant, Rhona realized. Practical application of the skills she’d taught them, under controlled circumstances where she could keep a watchful eye to ensure that mistakes wouldn’t be fatal.
“’Tis nae a bad idea,” she said slowly, glancing at Ian. “What dae ye think, me laird?”
Ian considered the proposal thoroughly. “It would be good fer them tae learn proper healin’ practices, beyond just battlefield medicine. And the villagers could use the help.” He nodded decisively. “Aye, take them. But only the ones who proved competent today.”
Alec’s face lit up like a harvest bonfire. “Thank ye, me laird. We willnae disappoint ye!”
As the young soldier hurried away to share the good news with his comrades, Rhona found herself smiling despite her complicated feelings about the man beside her.
“That was well done,” she said quietly.
“Was it?” Ian seemed genuinely uncertain. “I’m still figurin’ out how tae lead these men.”
“Ye’re daein’ fine. Better than fine, actually.” Rhona gathered her remaining supplies, preparing to head back to the castle. “Those lads would follow ye intae hell itself, and nae because they fear ye. Nae many leaders can say that.”
“High praise from someone who considers me her captor.”
The retort stung, partly because it was true and partly because she was beginning to struggle with that definition of their relationship. Ian had certainly kept her prisoner, but he’d also shown her kindness, and respect. The lines between captor and protector, between enemy and ally, were becoming increasingly blurred.
“Aye, well,” she said carefully, “even prisoners can recognize good leadership when they see it.”
Ian studied her face for a moment, as if trying to read something in her expression. “I should let ye rest. Tomorrow will be a long day if ye’re takin’ half me army tae play healer.”
“They’re nae yer army yet,” Rhona replied with a slight smile. “More like… well-meanin’ farm lads with pointy objects.”
“Careful lass. If ye keep insultin’ me army I might have tae defend their honor.” Ian’s eyes sparked with mischief. “Though, I suppose callin’ them ‘well-meanin’ farm lads’ is generous.”
