“Tis was no insult that wasna true,” Dalziel shot back. “Wot happened tae us being superior tae them?”
“We are trying to sign an alliance,” Ian reminded him. “We dinna come tae start a war. Do ye not realize wot danger yer words could put us in, our clan in?” He held back the part where he had sent men back to the clan, for reasons that he didn’t even understand. As his captain, Dalziel should be informed of such matters that would endanger them but Ian wasn’t sure he trusted his right hand as much as he did before they came here. “Do ye wish for peace Dalziel?”
“I wish for wotever is best for our people,” the captain said in a hard voice.
“Then this is best for our people,” Ian finished, stepping back. “As yer laird, I must know that I can trust ye tae support mah decision.” If not, Ian wasn’t sure what he would do with the captain, but if he couldn’t trust the men around him, then he was no better off than having his enemy close. “Tell mah that I can trust ye.”
“Ye can trust mah,” Dalziel finally answered, his face mottled with anger. “I’ve given ye nary a reason not tae. I have watched yer back in every battle that we have fought together, saved yer life for the sake of our clan. How can ye say that I am not looking out for the interests of the clan?”
Ian wanted to believe his words, but it was going to be his actions that would prove that he was behind his laird and his clan. “Alright,” Ian replied, giving his captain a tight smile. “I believe ye. Donna disappoint mah, Dalziel.”
The other man looked aghast that he could disappoint his laird, placing his fist over his heart in salute. “Ye can always count on mah.”
Ian dismissed him, watching as Dalziel rejoined his men in training before looking at the keep in the distance. He had to fix this. He had to find a way for them to have the real conversation that he had planned when he had made the journey here. He just hoped that Iris would be able to talk the laird into listening once more and they could have more than just a shouting match between them. This was their future as clansmen and as leaders that was on the line, not just their pride.
That evening, Ian sat next to his sister and James, dining in their chamber once more than in the great hall. Hope was nearby, occupying herself with some toys that Ian had brought with him and the bottle of wine was nearly empty on the table. “Tell mah,” James stated, leaning back in his chair. “Wot will ye do when ye go back home?”
Ian picked up his tin cup, frowning. “I’m certain that there is work tae be done.” He had left Stephan in charge in his absence, warning his brother that if something happened to him, Stephan would have to take up his place. Stephan had laughed and said that Ian was too stubborn to die but in this hostile territory, Ian wasn’t so certain that death wasn’t just around the corner. “The keep needs repairs. The fields need to be readied for the fall.” That was the short list he had. The walls were starting to crumble under the disrepair that his da had ignored and no keep was safe without a wall to guard it. That and the nearby river was starting to dry up with each season, leaving his council to find another means of water that a well could be dug from.
There was always something and in the beginning, after his da’s death, Ian had wanted to run away from it all. He knew exactly what to do when he was on the battlefield. Wielding his sword and killing the enemy didn’t take much thought.
Being a laird, however, did require a significant amount of time spent trying to keep the clan happy.
“Have ye given any thought tae a wife?” Iris asked, pouring some more wine into her cup. “Or are ye too busy?”
A wife. He needed a wife, but Ian hadn’t given it much thought at all even with Remy’s ribbing. He was expected, as laird, to give the clan an heir, but Ian didn’t just want to wed any lass. He wanted the right lass for him.
Ida’s face swarmed his thoughts and he shook his head. Nay, tis couldn’t be possible. “Nay,” he forced out. “I havena given it much thought.”
Iris snickered, her face pink from the wine she had consumed. “Perhaps we need tae find ye a game so that ye can find yer wife in the ring.”
James snorted with laughter at his wife’s jest. “I doubt that Ian will be willing tae let his future wife win though.”
Iris shot him a look and Ian smothered his own grin. “Let mah win? Ye dinna pick up yer sword!”
“Because I was trying tae prove a point,” James argued. “Tis was mah love that I was showing.”
Iris rose from her chair, slamming her cup on the table. “James Lennox ye couldna beat mah if I gave ye everything I could do in the ring.”
James slowly rose from the chair, his eyes flashing with challenge. “Och? Are ye certain wife?”
Iris looked at her brother, who was watching the exchange while trying not to laugh. “Can ye watch our wee one Ian? I am aboot tae show mah husband that he is wrong.”
Ian barely nodded before Iris was storming out, her head held high. James let out a low curse. “She’s insufferable!”
“If I can give a word of advice,” Ian stated as James gathered his sword. “I would let her win again if ye wish tae be in her bed tonight.”
James let out another curse and stormed out, Ian laughing at his back. “Well wee Hope,” he said to his niece, who was chewing on one of the rag toys happily. “Tis looks like it is just us for dinner tonight.”
10
Ian groaned as the incessant pounding at his door grew louder, matching the pounding of his head from the wine he had drunk the night before. “Hold on ye lout!” he shouted, throwing back the covers and donning his tartan, the only thing he could find within reach. He had imbibed in too much wine and ale at dinner last night and now he was paying the price.
Throwing open the door, he found his sister standing on the other side, her hand raised to beat on the wood once again. “Wot?” he asked roughly.
She winced, rubbing her own temples at his harsh voice. “Not so loud Ian. Mah head is pounding.”
He imagined that wasn’t the only pounding going on last eve. James and Iris had snuck in sometime after midnight, her with dirt on her dress and James a cut over his eye. Ian had already rocked his sleepy niece asleep and laid her down in her bed before his sister had shown her face. Iris had shooed him out with a giggle, telling him that his services weren’t required any longer. Ian had left, shaking his head but there was a smile on his face. His sister had met her match the day she wed Lennox.
