Page 60 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
Ian fell quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the path ahead with excruciating intensity. When he spoke again, his words were measured and deliberate. “Rhona, I want tae ask ye somethin’.”
And there it is.
Her hands tightened on the reins until her knuckles went white.
“Ye surprised me today…” he stopped, seeming to struggle with the words. “The way ye are with me people, the way they respond tae ye…”
“Ian, this is–”
“Let me finish.” His voice carried a note of quiet desperation. “Please.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.”
“I want ye tae marry me.”
The words hit her like an arrow to the chest, stealing her breath and sending her world tilting sideways.
“Nae because the Council demands it,” he added quickly, as if afraid she’d interrupt. “Nae because it would solve political problems. But because… because I think we make a difference here. And because I truly think we could be happy together.”
Happy.Such a simple word, yet it contains multitudes of possibility and terror.
“I ken ‘tis presumptuous–”
“Presumptuous?” the word exploded from her like a released bowstring. “Ian, ye’re talkin’ about marriage like a business arrangement!”
“That’s exactly what I’mnaedaein’.” His voice sharpened in frustration. “I’m talkin’ about partnership. About buildin’ somethin’ real and lasting together. Somethin’ that’s worth having.”
“And if I refuse?” The question came out again, more challenging than she’d intended.
Ian’s jaw tightened, but his eyes never left hers. “Then I promise I’ll dae all in me power tae find a way tae get ye back tae yer family. Even if it means the destruction of Clan Wallace.”
The magnitude of what he was offering – the sacrifice he was willing to make – left her utterly speechless. He was putting her happiness above his own, above his clan’s welfare, and her freedom above his own survival.
“That’s either the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” she said slowly, “or the daftest.”
“Probably both.” A wry smile tugged at his lips. “But I’m askin’ ye anyway.”
Ian…” her voice came out smaller than she’d intended.
“Take a week,” he added gently. “Think about it. Really think about what we might have together.”
As Castle Wallace came into view ahead of them, its towers outlined against the evening sky like a promise – or a threat –Rhona felt the weight of his proposal settling on her shoulders like a cloak woven from hope and terror.
One week.
One week to decide the course of her entire life. One week to choose between the safety of the familiar and the dangerous allure of the unknown.
One week, she thought again, stealing another glance at Ian’s profile as they approached the castle gates.
But even as the question formed in her mind, she felt her heart already whispering its own treacherous answer. The real question wasn’t whether she wanted to marry Ian Wallace – it was whether she had the courage to admit it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Careful there!”
Ian’s voice was sharp as the red deer bounded across their path, causing both horses to shy nervously. He steadied Dubh with practiced ease, but when he glanced over at Rhona, he could see her expression had changed completely.
The deer had disappeared into the forest, but Rhona sat frozen in her saddle, staring after it with a look that made Ian’s chest tighten. Whatever she was seeing in her mind, whatever memory the animal had triggered, her face had gone pale, her eyes distant, and when she finally spoke, her voice carried a bitter edge that hadn’t been there moments before.
