Ilysa was crying. Could she not forgive him? He had to persuade her.
"I love ye so much, and I'm sorry I failed to trust ye," he said. "If you'll marry me, I'll strive to be the man ye believe I can be."
"You already are that man," she said, which was no answer.
"Ilysa, mo r霉in, will ye have me?"
"I choose you for my husband, Connor MacDonald," she said with a smile in her voice as she echoed Tearlag's prediction. "In truth, I've been yours for the asking since the day ye returned from France."
The world fell away as he kissed her. Connor forgot the battles of today and tomorrow, the dangers facing his clan, and even the tombs of the dead surrounding them. At this moment, the lass who had danced away with his heart was in his arms. Ilysa had agreed to become his wife, and all things seemed possible.
"Your clothes are damp. Ye must be frozen, mo r霉in," he said when they finally broke apart. "Why did ye want to meet in this abandoned church, among the dead?"
"'Tis close to the battle," she said, "and I thought we should do this in a neutral place where we could be certain of secrecy."
"Secrecy? A neutral place?" he asked. "Why?"
The door creaked, and Connor whirled around, brandishing his claymore. In the doorway, he saw the outline of a giant warrior with a distinctive hunched shoulder.
"Connor," Ilysa said from behind him and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Meet my grandfather, Alastair MacLeod."
* * *
Ilysa grew weary as the two chieftains went around and around in negotiations that seemed to go nowhere. At first, it appeared they would come to a quick agreement after Connor informed her grandfather about their upcoming marriage and apologized for Sorely's atrocities. But generations of bloody history could not be overcome so easily. The two men did not trust each other, and the discussions soon stalled.
Dawn was nearing, and the only point the two could agree upon was that Ilysa's parentage should be kept secret. Alastair was adamant that a future chieftain of the MacDonalds not have a claim to the chieftainship of his clan, and Connor feared the taint of MacLeod blood could be used against his sons when his successor was chosen.
"The child I carry," she said, interrupting them, "has the blood of both of ye."
This was not how she had planned to tell Connor, but this had gone on long enough. Her announcement was met with startled silence, then Connor pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly.
"Would ye kill the man who is my grandfather and our child's great-grandfather?" she asked him, and then she turned to Alastair. "And would you have my babe be fatherless?" For good measure, she added, "I'm tired, and I need my rest."
After that, matters were settled swiftly. As Connor accompanied her back to Flora's cottage, Ilysa was so filled with joy she could hardly contain herself. The agreement the two chieftains had reached to resolve their current conflict was an enormous victory. It had been too much to expect that the two rival clans would form a close alliance, but she had hope now that they could live in peace. And she would soon be Connor's wife.
"Shh, don't wake them," she cautioned Connor outside the cottage door.
"I'll come back for ye as soon as I can," he said and embraced her once more. "You've made me the happiest of men."
She watched his back until she could no longer see him in the dark. Hugging herself, she quietly opened the door so as not to wake the family, though she felt like shouting her news.
Connor and I shall marry! The battle for Trotternish is over!
She eased the door closed behind her. As she started to tiptoe across the room, a muffled sound made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Before she could scream, for the second time that night, a hand covered her mouth.
"Hello, Ilysa," a familiar, deep voice rumbled in her ear. "I always knew a lass would be my nephew's downfall, but I never guessed it would turn out to be you."
Chapter 45
Connor was relieved when everything went as he and Alastair MacLeod had agreed. Though he had learned to trust Ilysa, he doubted he would ever fully trust her grandfather.
They made a pretense of negotiating the truce in the presence of their respective guards. As promised, Alastair agreed to withdraw his warriors