“Nay, he didn’t hurt me,” she answered quietly, answering his question. “I’m fine.”
Relief slid through him. “Good. I was worried that I didna get there in time.”
Ida cocked her head to the side, her shoulders slumping. “Wot are ye doing here Ian?”
“Why do ye feel as if ye canna trust mah?” he asked, not wanting to lose the one person who had believed in him. A mere stranger on the opposite side of his clan had believed that he could change things.
She let out a hollow laugh that he felt in his gut. “Ye spouted yer pretty words but they were all for naught weren’t they?” her hands balled into fists at her sides, anger radiating out of her. “Ye insulted mah clan and made mah believe.”
Ian understood now. She had heard what had happened in the council room and immediately thought that he was behind it all when that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“Ye donna want true peace,” she said softly. “Ye want tae weaken us into believing that wars can end before ye strike.”
“I donna want war!” Ian bit out, his own anger bleeding through in his words.
She jerked back as if he had touched her and Ian drew in a tortured breath. “I’m sorry,” he immediately said. “I dinna mean tae frighten ye.”
“I, I’m not frightened,” she stammered as Ian sunk down to a bale of hay, stretching his long legs before him.
Ian ran a hand over his face wearily. “I tried lass. I tried tae keep the peace. Tis was mah man who made the insult, not mah.”
He waited for a beat of a breath before Ida joined him on the opposite bale, her hands in her lap. “Tell mah wot truly happened then.”
So Ian told her everything, from how he tried to curtail the conversation to a means of peace and not the past to stopping the talks when his captain got out of hand. Throughout it all, Ida listened to him intently, not interrupting once. “I feel like I have failed,” he finally ended, bracing his hands on his legs. “Thereare people counting on mah tae protect them and this alliance was going tae be the means of protection. Now I have tae be worried that MacGregor will see it as a means tae attack mah clan.” He cared not if she thought him weak for caring about his people, but a laird was nothing without his clan.
“Wot do ye want tae do then?” she asked a moment later. “Wot is yer plan?”
“I want another discussion with him,” he stated. “Just mah and him.” Without all the advisors and such, he could really explain his side of things and why it was imperative that they reach an accord.
“Then do it,” Ida said, her face no longer contorted with anger. “But I do think that yer man needs tae apologize for his outburst. The laird will never trust ye if ye allow yer man tae get away with the insult.”
She was right. Ian did need to have Dalziel apologize for what he said and in his heart, he wanted to think that the captain would do it for the good of the people.
At least, that was what he hoped.
Looking at Ida, he swallowed. “So ye believe mah now?”
She drew in a breath but didn’t look away. “I want tae believe ye, Ian. I really do, but.”
“But ye canna trust a Wallace,” he finished for her, rising from the bale. The words struck him in the chest, thinking of how he was ever going to get anyone to trust their clan.
“Nay!” Ida started, rising to her feet as well. “Tis not that at all. I am not mah uncle, either of them.”
“Then mah words are the truth,” Ian said evenly, not even feeling any sort of anger toward her, but resignation. His uphill climb was growing steadier by the moment, with no end in sight.
Ida surprised him by putting her hand on his chest, forcing him to meet her eyes. It was then that he realized how small she was next to his height, his need to protect her building inside.“Yer words are wot ye make them,” she said softly, searching his gaze. “And I hope that they are true.”
Ian gathered her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “I promise ye. I willna give up on this.” He held her hand for a beat longer before releasing it, stepping back to put some space between them. “I should go find mah captain.”
She fidgeted with her sleeve, her cheeks pink. “Aye ye should.”
“Can I come back?” he asked hesitantly, hoping that she had seen that he was being truthful in what he was saying. He needed her as his ally. He needed a friend in the MacGregor clan.
“Aye, ye can Ian Wallace.”
Her words stuck with him as he walked to the sparring ring, where his men were getting in their sparring for the afternoon. Remy was there, coaching them on as well as Dalziel, who upon seeing Ian, stopped his swordplay immediately and hurried over to his laird’s side. “Mah laird.”
Ian held up his hand and the other man went silent, though his eyes hardened. “Ye will go and apologize tae Laird MacGregor,” Ian told him, his jaw clenched. “Aboot the insult.”
