Ida didn’t want to sacrifice what she knew she needed in her life, in her future and she would much rather stay where she was at in order to wait for the grand love of her life. “Nay uncle,” Ida finally said with a shake of her head. “I am content.”
He seemed to accept her answer, giving her a quick nod. “Alright mah lass. I willna push ye into marriage yet but I canna stand by and watch ye give up yer life for his. He has had his chance. Donna make a mistake in believing that ye can change him.”
Ida lifted her chin, staring at him directly. “I’m not. This is where I wish tae be.”
“Then I bid ye a good day.”
Ida waited until he had exited the stables before she blew out a breath, her feelings conflicted with his words. She knew he wasjust looking after her, as his sister would want him to, but not at the point of attempting to make her decisions for her.
It wasn’t until she was in her bed that evening, listening to her uncle snore a few feet away, that Ida allowed herself to think about a future. Unfortunately, there was only one Scot she had in mind. Ida tucked her hands under her cheek. She shouldn’t be thinking of him in that manner, but in the still of the night, when there was no one around, she could allow herself to dream at least.
Closing her eyes, Ida pictured Ian’s handsome face in her mind, the quirk of a smile that had come far too easily when they were together. She thought about his laugh, about his strong arms as they had lifted the hay into the stall.
Most of all, she thought about the determination in his eyes, the way he had set his jaw when he talked about peace amongst their clans. He was a man of great passion, one that would stop at nothing to ensure that his hopes, his own dreams were taken into account. What a strong laird he was going to be in a few years and her uncle would be remiss if he didn’t take their alliance seriously.
Sleep pulled at her body and Ida allowed herself to fall under its spell, Ian’s face smiling back at her as she drifted off to sleep.
12
Two Months Later…
“But mah laird. Tis mah land and he’s letting his goats graze on mah grass. I need that for mah animals!”
Ian gripped the sides of his chair as he listened to the farmer continue to whine while his neighbor stood silently. All morning it had been requests such as this, for Ian to settle disputes amongst his clan.
He was irritated, tired of listening to their words. “Enough,” he barked out, rising from his chair. The farmer paled and took a few steps backward at Ian’s imposing stature, but blissfully remained silent. “The grass,” Ian continued, tapping his fingers against his chin. “Does it really belong tae ye?”
“A, aye,” the farmer stammered. “It does mah laird.”
Ian arched a brow. “Actually I believe the grass belongs tae mah. Yer farms belong tae mah. Yer animals belong tae mah.”
“Mah laird,” the farmer interrupted but Ian silenced him with a hard look.
“Stephan,” Ian called out to his brother, waiting until he approached the trio. “Will ye go out tae their farms and burn them tae the ground?”
“Wait!” the complaining farmer shouted. “Ye, tis mah entire livelihood in that farm!”
“Mah laird, please,” the other farmer stated, paling. “I have bairns tae feed.”
“Then why are ye both here filling my ears with this trivial concern?” Ian fought back, his tone hard. “Ye both have fine farms that serve yer laird well. Ye both have families that donna care if one goat eats another’s grass. Learn tae get along or I will come out mahself and set fire tae wot ye hold dear. Understood?”
Both men looked properly chastised and murmured their agreements before exiting the hall. Ian fell back into the chair with a huff, rubbing his temples. “How many more?”
“A half a dozen or more,” Stephan said cheerfully. “But I think after that discussion, they will all be running for the hills.”
Ian swore, leaning back on the chair. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper, but it seemed that all anyone wanted to do was argue about trivial things such as goats eating the wrong grass and grain bags that weren’t filled to the brim. How his da had dealt with such things in the past, Ian never knew.
“Here,” Stephan stated, thrusting a cup in Ian’s direction. “Drink this. Ye have a council meeting in a few moments.”
Ian drained the cup, the ale sliding down his throat and put the empty cup aside. The council meeting was important to him, a chance for them to discuss their next steps with the MacGregor clan. He had wanted to discuss it the moment he had gotten back on Wallace land two months ago, but instead, he had found the clan in disarray. Stephan had attempted to keep the peace while Ian was gone, but the wall had finally crumbled, taking out one of the wings of the keep with it. The river had been blocked byfallen trees downstream, leaving part of the farms on the west side of his lands without water. It had taken weeks for them to clear the trees so that the water would flow once more.
It had taken four weeks for him to get the wall and keep set back to rights, all the while dealing with the day-to-day concerns of his clan.
Perhaps the most disturbing thing that had happened over the last week was that a war party wearing MacGregor colors had been spotted not far from the Wallace border. Only words were exchanged, but Ian worried that next time his clan would be engaging in more than just a few harsh words.
He had to convince the council to allow him to try and establish the alliance once more. If they kept the peace against the MacGregors, then they would have to reciprocate that notion, but Ian wanted to make certain that Laird MacGregor understood his stance first.
Pushing out of his chair, he straightened his tunic, running his hand through his hair.
