Right now, though, Iris looked pale and Ian’s throat bobbed with concern. “I was summoned by the laird this morn,” she said, clenching her hands together nervously and his stomach fell. “He’s denied yer request and wants ye gone before sundown.”
Ian’s shoulders slumped. These were not the words he wanted to hear. “Did he say why?”
She shook his head. “He’s in a right awful mood, Ian. I donna think no amount of groveling would get an audience today or any day right now.”
He felt like a failure. Pushing away from the door, he raked his hands through his hair roughly, tugging on its roots. “I canna believe it.”
“Tis not yer fault,” she said, laying a hand on his bare shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze as any sister would do. “Ye gave it yer best Ian. There will be other times. I’m certain of it.”
But what was to say that he wouldn’t destroy the other opportunities as well? Ian shook his head. It was his fault. He was the laird and therefore had the responsibility of solidifying the alliance for the sake of his people.
Yet he would have to go back to his own council and explain how he failed them.
“Wot can I do?” she asked hesitantly. “Wot do ye need?”
“I need a plan,” he muttered, pacing the room now. “I need this tae work.”
“You could marry someone in the village,” Iris said after a moment. “Show that ye are looking to unite the two clans in marriage. Ye are a laird.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “The laird doesna have any daughters but he does have a niece!” Iris grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop his pacing. “Ye could wed Ida.”
Ian froze, thinking of how he had the same thought the previous evening. He liked Ida. He was attracted to her but wed her?
“Tis perfect,” his sister was saying, a smile on her face. “Ida is a lovely lass and she would make ye a good wife Ian.”
He didn’t doubt it for a moment. Ida was a strong lass, one who wasn’t afraid of hard work or speaking her mind. She would fare well in his clan. “I will think on it,” he finally said. “But I need tae go back tae the clan for now Iris.” He had to leave and make certain that the clan was safe and formulate a plan if the MacGregor laird decided to attack. He wouldn’t leave his clansmen without a leader, one that was responsible for what might happen to begin with.
“I know,” Iris said, pulling him into an embrace. “This will work out Ian. Ye will see that everything will work out in the end.”
Ian could only hope that was the truth. Pulling away from his sister, he ran a hand over his face. “I must gather mah things.”
She gave him a long look but in the end, left him alone in his chamber to gather his things. He couldn’t think about marrying Ida right now or even courting the lass properly. His first priority was to get back home and make a plan.
After dressing, Ian met with Remy and Dalziel in the great hall, where the others gave him a wide berth, looks of disgust on their faces. “I take it we are no longer welcome,” Remy muttered, looking around. “I swear some of these Scots were drinking with mah last evening.”
“The laird has declared that we must leave,” Ian explained quickly. “I donna want tae tarry any longer than necessary.” He looked at Dalziel. “Gather the men. We ride shortly.”
Dalziel gave him a nod and walked off to do Ian’s bidding, leaving the two friends alone. “I will go get the horses,” Remy started out.
“Nay,” Ian said quickly. “I will.”
Remy gave him a sidelong glance. “Because of a certain lass that may or may not be waiting?”
Ian glared at him. “Just make certain that everyone is ready tae leave before the hour is up.”
Iris was the next to stop him, tears glimmering in her eyes as she embraced him. “Donna give up hope,” she whispered as he clutched her. “Tis not the end.”
“Donna hesitate tae come home at the first thought of bloodshed,” he whispered back. “Ye always have a place there lass, ye and James.”
She gave him a nod and walked off, wiping her eyes. Ian felt like a failure. He had caused this burden on his sister and that was never his intention. Ian walked out of the keep and to the stables, his heart pounding in his chest. Ida was standing near the door, her eyes widening as she saw him. “Did ye get another meeting with the laird?” she asked as he approached.
Ian shook his head and her face fell. Yet another person he had disappointed. “Nay I dinna lass. I have tae leave.”
“Oh,” she simply said, walking into the stables. “Then we best retrieve yer horses.”
Ian didn’t know what to say to her, his words feeling small and insignificant. “I’m verra sorry lass.”
She rounded on him. “For wot?”
“For letting ye down,” he answered in a rush. “I promised ye I would stop the bloodshed but in the end, I failed.”
