Her faith in him bolstered Ian and he reached up, gathering her hand in his. “Thank ye, Ida.”
She gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand and Ian never felt peace in his life as he did in that moment. She believed in him, a mere lass that was supposed to be his enemy.
This was enough.
Hope chose that moment to start crying and Ida stepped back, her hand sliding through his. “I should.”
“I should be going,” he interrupted her, exiting the room before she could see that his face was slightly reddened. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she always made him feel tongue-tied when it came to speaking.
Still, she believed he could do this and that was exactly what Ian was going to do.
After leaving Ida and Hope, Ian made his way down the stairs, where he was greeted by a nervous-looking James. “Iris is already in the council room,” he stated, guiding Ian that way. “Yer man is waiting outside.”
Ian caught sight of Dalziel waiting outside the heavy oak door, giving him a nod as he approached. “Wot are our demands?” he asked.
Ian looked at his captain, wishing that Remy was there instead. “We have no demands. We are here tae listen and discuss our ceasefire.”
“Wot if he doesna want one?” Dalziel pressed as James looked on, waiting for them to decide they were ready to enter.
“Then we deal with it as it comes,” Ian snapped. He didn’t have time for his captain to question his every move.
Dalziel gave him a look but in the end, he gave Ian a clipped nod and stepped back. “Aye mah laird.”
Ian looked at his brother-in-law. “We are ready.”
James muttered something under his breath but he opened the door and Ian stepped through, recognizing Laird MacGregor immediately. He had seen the hardened warrior on the battlefield over the years, though the man looked more aged than he had remembered. “Laird Wallace,” he said, beckoning Ian to take the seat on the other side of the large wooden table. “Come in.”
Ian met his sister’s eyes as he crossed the room and took the seat, finding nothing but worry in her gaze. That didn’t bode well for the rest of the discussion if she was worried.
“First,” the laird finally said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. “I want tae extend mah sympathies at the loss of yer da. He was a strong leader and a worthy opponent.”
Ian felt the wealth of emotion move inside him, the grief that never seemed to leave him at the death of his da. “Thank ye.”
“Yer sister,” the laird continued, giving Iris a glance. “Has been a worthy addition tae mah clan. I understand ye blessed their union?”
“Aye,” Ian replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “All that matters is that she is happy and well.”
The laird grinned. “I believe that she is.”
Ian exhaled inwardly, hoping that this jovial talk continued between them. It would be a mite easier for him to negotiate with the laird.
The grin died off the older Scot’s face and he set his jaw. “Tell mah how ye are going tae account for our losses?”
“Yer losses?” Ian asked, surprised by the change of topic so quickly. Now the tension was in the air, the very one he longed to ignore. “From wot mah laird?”
“The battles where yer kin and ye slain mah clan,” he barked out, his eyes flashing with anger. “Because of ye, mah oldest brother was forced tae vacate his rightful title.”
Ian tried to keep his anger under control. “I would say that is unfortunate.”
“Wot’s unfortunate,” the laird sneered. “Is that he had tae bury his only son,his heir! Now he’s naught but a drunk.”
A drunk. Ian’s mind scrambled to put the pieces together, realizing that the laird meant Ida’s uncle. Ida was related to the laird? He had thought she was just a lass fallen on hard times, trying to make ends meet but this was new to him.
“Mah brother isna the only one who has suffered at the hands of a Wallace,” the laird continued, his words hard. “And now yer asking mah tae trust that ye have turned over a new leaf?”
“Aye,” Ian forced out, pushing down the anger that was forcing its way to the surface. “We all have lost our brothers, sisters, wives, husbands. We all have suffered greatly.” He drew in a breath. “I’m asking for ye and I tae look toward peace instead of our swords.” He wasn’t going to apologize for the past. Nothing good would come out of his apology. Those that were gone were gone and no amount of apologies was going to bring them back.
“Tell mah,” Ian continued. “Wot are ye willing tae do tae make this peace work Laird MacGregor?”
