Remy Wallace with his infuriating handsome profile far too much for what a hardened warrior should be like.
“Ah,” Ida said, coming to stand beside her. “I see wot has yer attention.”
Gretna rolled her eyes. “He would only wish he could hold mah attention for more than a few moments.”
Ida chuckled. “Ye would be the only lass in the village that would say something like that, Gretna. Even I have tae admit that he can turn mah head.”
“I still donna understand why Ian gave him that position,” Gretna said, shaking her head. The former captain of the guard had nearly killed Ida before they were wed and after they had returned, Remy had assumed the position. Remy was her brother’s closest friend and had been around for as long as Gretna could remember.
Still, The captain was arrogant, one that enjoyed the attention of the lasses around him.
It was nauseating to watch.
“Remy was an obvious choice,” Ida answered. “He’s a good warrior.”
“He’s too weak,” Gretna sniffed as the handsome captain walked out of her view. She didn’t have time to think about Remy, not with the most important journey of her young life ahead of her.
Turning away from the window, Gretna made her way back over to the trunk and recounted her dresses once more, ignoring the groan from her sister as she did so. “Everything has tae be perfect,” she answered, running her hand over the dress on top. “Everything has tae be in its place.”
“Then ye will never make it tae McCellan land,” Lena argued. “This is madness.”
“Leave us,” Ida commanded, putting an end to their squabbling. Lena pouted but did as Ida demanded, followed bythe sour-faced maid. Once the door was closed, Ida turned her attention back to Gretna. “I know ye have high hopes for this visit.”
Gretna straightened her shoulders. The journey would take three days by carriage and while Iris would have likely ridden her horse the entire way, it was no way for a future lady of a clan to arrive at her potential husband. Ian had agreed, wanting this meeting to go well and now Gretna was dressed in her finest, ready to represent her clan well. “Aye, I do.”
Ida picked up the tartan from the bed and fashioned it until she could drape it over Gretna’s shoulder, fastening it with the gold belt. “I’ve heard horrid things aboot that clan, Gretna. I donna think that ye should go. Even Iris had her own reservations when they met with the Laird. He’s not easy tae deal with.”
This wasn’t a conversation that she hadn’t had before, first with Lena and then Ida a few days ago. There were all sorts of rumors about her future clan, but Gretna couldn’t let that stop her from at least trying. “If Ian was worried, he wouldna send mah.” That was the truth. Her brother wouldn’t take the chance with his sisters, no matter what the outcome would be. After all, he had let Iris make up her mind about her husband.
Gretna knew that he wouldn’t let her do the same, but Ian definitely wouldn’t put her in harm’s way.
“Of course, he’s worried,” Ida snapped. “He doesna like the idea of ye going either, but not because of yer safety. Only a fool would attack a Wallace these days.”
“I have no worries,” Gretna assured her sister-in-law. Likely there would be sufficient warriors sent with her and other than the gold on her person, Gretna wasn’t traveling with any riches. The highwaymen would look the other way.
Or at least that was what Gretna hoped would happen. Unlike Iris, she detested lifting a weapon against another, but she would also do whatever it took to keep herself safe.
“Just be vigilant,” Ida finished as she shut the lid on Gretna’s trunk. “And donna let yer guard down. Ye are a Wallace.” Ida reached over and opened the door, pausing before stepping out into the hallway. “I will give ye a moment tae yerself.”
Gretna gave her sister-in-law a grateful nod, waiting until the door was shut to let out a slow breath. She wasn’t leaving forever. Even if the meeting went well and Gretna thought that she had found her true love, the wedding would still take place on Wallace land. This wouldn’t be the last time she was in this keep, in her chamber where everything was right and where she wished for it to be.
But it could be the last time she was standing there as an eligible lass. This would be exactly what she was destined to do, but Gretna couldn’t help but feel the worry start to fill her if she didn’t find her future with the McCellan heir. What then? She wasn’t getting any younger and soon, her brother’s attention would have to be on Lena as well. Gretna wanted a family, a life, and a loving husband.
She didn’t want to be a spinster, placed on the shelf in everyone’s mind and left to become a caretaker over her brother’s bairns or a healer, only called upon when needed.
Her lungs squeezed painfully in her chest, forcing Gretna to gulp air before her vision started to grow dark. In and out. One breath to the next. There was no reason to panic just yet. Gretna was certain she would woo this heir into falling in love with her and was determined to reciprocate his feelings. As Ida often said, love could come later.
Pulling herself back together, Gretna gave herself one final look in the mirror, seeing nothing out of place from her momentof panic. She was what everyone expected her to be: poised, serious, and driven.
All the things that in her mind made a lass formidable, and Gretna was going to show them all that she could do this.
2
After leaving her chambers, Gretna grabbed her cloak and made her way down the stairs to the great hall, paying more attention to the place she called home now that she was leaving. The walls were familiar around her, giving her a sense of peace and though she knew she had to make this journey, there was a bit of apprehension about leaving what she was familiar with. After all, who knew what they would find on this journey?
Straightening her shoulders once more, Gretna walked into her brother’s study, finding Ian behind the table that served as his desk. While her brother had been a fierce warrior in his day, he wasn’t keen on being very, well, tidy as a laird. Papers and scrolls were strewn about the study, stacking high in some places and threatening to topple over. There was a cup at his elbow, the liquid likely long cold since it had been delivered, and an untouched plate of food that served as her brother’s breakfast. If it wasn’t for her sister-in-law, Gretna doubted that her brother would even stop to eat.
“Ian.” She called.
