He did not finish the sentence.
Flynn studied him for a moment. “Then ye’d best convince her otherwise.”
Ian nodded slowly, though unease twisted inside him. Because one truth had become painfully clear. If Arianna truly believed he had deceived her, winning back her trust might prove far harder than facing any enemy beyond the clan’s borders.
“I must go find her,” Ian said.
He left Flynn and returned to the castle. Servants carrying baskets and bundles quickly stepped aside as he passed, lowering their heads in hurried bows. The tension in the air feltthick, though no one dared speak it aloud. Ian barely noticed them.
His thoughts were fixed on one person. He turned down the familiar corridor that led to Arianna’s chambers and pushed open the door without hesitation.
“Arianna?” he called, his voice carrying across the quiet room. Only silence answered him.
The chamber was empty. The hearth burned low, and the curtains stirred gently with the breeze from the narrow window. Ian stepped farther inside, scanning the room as though she might appear from behind the bed or wardrobe. But the chamber remained stubbornly still. Then there was movement, but it was only her pet rabbit.
He exhaled sharply and turned back into the corridor. A maid carrying a folded bundle of linens approached cautiously. Ian stepped into her path, forcing her to halt.
“Have ye seen Lady McGuire?” he asked.
The girl blinked nervously before shaking her head. “Nay, me Laird.”
Ian studied her briefly. Her eyes flicked toward the chamber door and then quickly back to the floor. The unease in her posture did not escape him.
“If ye see her, tell her I’m lookin' for her,” he said.
“Aye, me Laird,” she murmured.
Ian continued down the corridor, though the strange tension among the servants did not ease his mind. Several clan members standing near the stairwell fell quiet as he approached. One man cleared his throat awkwardly while another suddenly found great interest in adjusting his belt.
They all ken something is wrong between the lady and me.
Ian’s jaw tightened as he walked on. His thoughts drifted to the past few weeks. Slowly, almost without noticing it, Arianna had begun to trust him. She had laughed more easily, walked beside him through the forest trails, and spoken her thoughts without hesitation.
Those moments had felt honest. Real.
Now I'm afraid they might be gone forever.
He crossed through the kitchens where several servants prepared the midday meal. The smell of roasting meat hung heavily in the air. Ian barely spared the room a glance before continuing through the doors that led to the gardens.
Still no sign of her.
A creeping sense of urgency tightened his chest. If Flynn was right and Arianna had overheard the council speaking of the clause, then she would believe the worst of him. And every moment that passed without explanation only strengthened that belief. He turned back toward the castle, frustration growing with every step. Then, as he reached the upper corridor near her chambers once more, he saw her.
“Arianna,” he called.
Ian stopped instantly, relief and tension colliding in his chest. She froze.
Slowly, she turned toward him. Her expression was calm, almost carefully so, but the guarded look in her eyes struck him like a blade. Ian approached her with measured steps, forcing his voice to remain steady.
“Arianna, we must speak.”
Her gaze hardened. “There is nothin' to discuss, me Laird.”
She attempted to walk past him. Ian stepped into her path, blocking the corridor. He did not touch her yet, but his presence alone halted her progress. Having his body this close to hers stirred a heat within him. He took a step toward her until her back was against the wall. He stretched out his hand, resting it on the wall beside her head.
Gods, I want to kiss her. To touch her. To taste her once more.
She looked up at him. He could see her lip tremble slightly and he ached to devour her mouth with his own.
