Ian looked up from the paper he had been reading, his brow still furrowed at the contents. “I’m aboot tae depart,” she said hastily, gripping her hands tightly together. “Tae McCellan.”
“Ah, yes,” Ian replied, comprehension dawning on his face. “Tis already time I suppose?”
Gretna nodded and her brother gestured to the chair before him. “Sit for a moment.”
“I donna have long,” Gretna started, glancing out of the window at the carriage. “We are already likely behind schedule.”
Ian chuckled. “Schedules. Ye always were the one tae ensure that we were never late tae anything.”
Gretna suppressed her own smile. “I couldna depend on the rest of our family.”
“I suppose not,” Ian answered, leaning back in his chair and looking more like their da than Gretna realized. Over time, she had forgotten about their da in this room or even in the keep itself, growing used to Ian being the laird and her memories gradually fading over time.
But now she could hear his booming voice, smell the faint wetness of his furs when he could come in from the rain and find her in his study, a book in her hand. Would he want her to do this?
“Yer thinking aboot him,” Ian stated quietly, grief etched on his face even after all this time.
“Aye,” she answered. “I was thinking aboot wot he would say today.”
Ian leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “He would likely say something profound and encouraging.”
“Which ye aren’t going tae do,” she countered, giving him a tiny smile.
Her brother returned her smile with one of his own. “Which I’m not going tae do. I will tell ye that I’m worried aboot this journey, Gretna. The McCellans.”
“Are not the easiest clan tae converse with,” Gretna finished for him. “I know, Ian. I can take care of mahself. I’m a Wallace.”
A spark of pride shone in her brother’s eyes, causing Gretna to sit up straighter. “There’s a great burden that rests on yer shoulders, Gretna. If ye can secure this alliance with yer marriage, it will bring an even greater ally tae the table for the Wallace clan.”
Gretna knew that. She knew that she could bring great honor to their clan.
“Ye can do something that Lena or Iris could never do,” he continued. “Ye can forge something that could last for generations.” He reached into the drawer next to him, placing an object on the table. “But that doesna mean I can allow ye tae go unarmed.”
Gretna glanced at the bejeweled dagger, with one large emerald dancing in the morning light. “That was da’s.”
“It was,” Ian confirmed. “And he would want ye tae have it for this journey. Remember yer teachings, lass. A Wallace is never unprepared. Go on, take it.”
Gretna did just that, the gold and steel cool against her palm. She had trained just like her sisters had, though Lena had yet to truly go against an opponent with a real weapon in their hand. Gretna had, however, and she had one scar on the inside of her arm from her first bout with her brother, Stephan. He hadn’t apologized to her for scarring her so, only told her that she should keep her elbow up next time and helped her wrap the wound so it would stop bleeding.
Gretna hadn’t forgotten his tutelage and it was the last time she had let her elbow drop during a fight. That was what it meant to grow up in a house full of warriors. They were unapologetic, and while she and Lena had been sheltered more than Iris had when it came to the violence of the battlefield, they were often the siblings that were left behind at the keep. Their da had statedthat they would never be unable to defend themselves and so from an early age, Gretna had learned hand-to-hand combat, wielding her wooden sword before she had her first bleed.
Now Lena was going through the same training, though Gretna expected that she was enjoying it a great deal more.
Gretna was meant for more than shedding blood on the battlefield and her time was nearly there. “Thank ye,” she told Ian, placing the dagger on her lap.
Ian looked at her, his expression hardening. “I know ye wish tae find love on this journey, Gretna, but the world around us is harsh. Sometimes we donna get wot we want immediately.”
Gretna glared at him. “Aye, we donna do, but ye found love with Ida.”
Ian’s cheeks flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, clearly embarrassed. “Aye, but that was different.”
“Tis no different and ye know it,” she shot back. “I want perfection in mah life. I want love in mah life. Why canna I have them both?” She wouldn’t settle for less than both. Her siblings could laugh and tell her that it wasn’t possible, but Gretna knew it could be possible. It was her life and she should voice how she wanted it. Ian and Iris both had found their perfect mates.
“Wot if this lad isna wot ye were hoping for?” Ian countered softly. “Wot then?”
Gretna refused to think of the heir as anything but her perfect husband. “I know this will work. Perhaps, he is the one I have been waiting for.” She would cling to that hope even if their first meeting wasn’t ideal. “I willna know unless I go, brother.”
Ian slumped against the chair. “There is no changing yer mind aboot being picky and holding out for love then?”
