Page 81 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
Tristan was quiet for a long moment, then cleared his throat. “There is one obvious solution, me laird.”
Ian turned to face him, though he already knew what was coming.
“Marriage,” Tristan said bluntly. “If ye wed her before the king arrives, it changes everythin’. She becomes yer wife rather than yer captive. A love match rather than… what it’s been made out tae be.”
“And if she refuses?” Ian asked, though his heart was already sinking.
“Then we might as well start diggin’ our own graves,” Tristan said with the grim certainty of a condemned man choosing his last meal.
“Aye,” Ian agreed dryly. “If I force her tae marry me now, it will only prove the accusations true – that we’ve been holdin’ her captive and coercin’ her. The weddin’ would only work if she agrees willingly, otherwise we’ll face the very punishment we’re tryin’ tae avoid.”
Tristan nodded grimly. “Aye, me laird.”
“He could strip me of me title,” Ian finished. “Install someone more… suitable.”
“Someone like Lachlan MacPherson,” Tristan agreed ruefully.
Ian ran his hands through his hair, feeling trapped between a rock and a hard place. Every instinct he possessed screamed against forcing Rhona into marriage, against using her current vulnerability to secure his own position. But the alternative…
“She’s just begun tae trust me,” Ian said quietly. “If I force her now, I’ll lose whatever progress we’ve made.”
“But ye’ll both be alive tae work through it,” Tristan said pragmatically. “Me laird, we’ve all seen what happens when the Crown decides a clan leader is unfit.”
“Aye,” Ian said, turning back to the window. “It daesnae end well fer anyone.” His mind churned through the possibilities. It all made sense from a political standpoint – marriage would protect Rhona’s reputation and legitimize her presence at Castle Wallace. It would prevent a fallout with both her clan and the Crown, and provide the king with a neat resolution that wouldn’t require him to take punitive action.
But it would also mean going against everything he stood for – forcing the woman he was coming to love into a marriage she would never have chosen freely.
“How long until the king arrives?”
“’Tis hard tae ken. I would guess at least ten days, perhaps eleven.”
Ian’s stomach dropped as he realized what little time they truly had. “But I gave her a week tae think about me proposal. After the village raid.” He ran his hand across his chin, thinking quickly. “That was what? Five days ago now?”
“Aye,” Tristan said grimly. “Which means ye have perhaps two or three days left before she must answer, and perhaps seven days before the king arrives.”
Two days to convince Rhona to marry him willingly. Two days to transform their tentative intimacy into something that could withstand royal scrutiny. Two days to save both their futures.
Or two days tae destroy it all.
“There’s another problem,” Ian said slowly. “Even if she agrees tae marry me, the king will surely want tae speak with her privately. He’ll want tae ken if she was coerced, if she’s agreein’ out of fear or desperation.”
“Then she’ll need tae convince him that she’s nae.” Tristan said simply. “That she chose this match of her own free will.”
“And if she cannae?”
Tristan’s expression fell even further. “Then we’ll all pay the price fer Lachlan’s schemin’.”
Ian stared out at the peaceful courtyard, watching his people go about their daily routines with no idea that their entire world might be about to collapse. Guards walked their posts, servants tended to their duties, children played in the corners where their mothers scrubbed the washing. All of them depending on him to protect them, to ensure their future.
Tristan looked as if he wanted to argue further, but something in Ian’s expression must have warned him off. Instead, he simply nodded. “What are yer orders, me laird?”
“Double the watch. Send scouts tae monitor the roads from Edinburgh. And prepare the great hall fer a royal visit.” Ian’s voice was steady despite the churning in his gut. “If His Majestywants tae judge me conduct, he’ll find Castle Wallace ready tae receive him properly.”
“And the lass?”
Ian was quiet for a long moment, thinking of the woman who’d given herself to him so trustingly just hours before.
“I’ll speak with her,” he said finally. “She deserves tae ken what’s comin’. And she deserves tae choose her own fate.”
