Page 111 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
"Would ye like to help me plan a garden?" she asked impulsively. "I want to plant flowers from McLaren here at Kinnaird."
"Really?" His eyes widened with excitement. "What kind of flowers?"
"Heather, wild roses, maybe some primrose. And anythin’ ye like. Would ye help me choose the best spots for them?"
They spent the next hour wandering through the garden, with Hayden chattering about which flowers the bees liked best and where the morning sun fell brightest. His enthusiasm was infectious, and Erica found herself laughing more than she had in days.
"Here," Hayden declared, stopping in a sunny corner near the castle walls. "This would be perfect for roses. They'd climb right up the stones!"
"Ye have a good eye," she said, imagining how beautiful it would look. "Perhaps when we're done, we could convince yer uncle to?—"
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
The voice came from behind them, cold and mocking. Erica spun around to find Duncan standing at the garden entrance, his clothes as proper as always, but his face twisted with malicious satisfaction.
"Two birds with one stone," he continued, stepping closer with hate in his eyes. "The bastard boy and the fortune-seeking witch. This will be double the reward—and double the pleasure to get rid of ye both."
Before Erica could react, before she could scream or run or push Hayden to safety, Duncan lunged forward with a blade gleaming in his hand.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Lachlan tried to sniffle a yawn as he looked from one councilman to the other. The council meeting had dragged on longer than expected, filled with tedious discussions about grain stores and tax collection.
He had just made up his mind to adjourn the meeting so he could go check on Erica when the scream cut through the afternoon air.
It came high, terrified, and unmistakably Erica's across the castle grounds with such raw panic that Lachlan froze for one moment, but then, he was moving before conscious thought could form.
"Frederick!" he shouted, sprinting toward the castle. "With me!"
He raced through the corridors with Frederick and two other men close behind, his heart hammering against his ribs as Erica's screams continued. There was something primal aboutthat sound, something that spoke of immediate mortal danger rather than simple fear.
When he burst through the garden entrance, the scene that greeted him was his worst nightmare made real.
Duncan stood in the center of the flower beds, one arm wrapped around Hayden's small throat while a dirk pressed against the boy's neck. Erica lay crumpled near the stone wall, blood seeping from a gash on her temple where she'd clearly struck her head. Her eyes were open but dazed, and she was trying unsuccessfully to push herself upright.
"M'laird!" Hayden cried out, his young voice breaking with terror.
"Erica, are ye alright?" Lachlan wanted to go to her and scoop her in his arms, but he feared for the boy.
"Aye," she muttered. Lachlan felt himself breathe a little better when she stood to her feet.
"Well, well," Duncan said with cold satisfaction, his grip tightening on the boy as Lachlan, sure that Erica was alright, turned his attention to him. "Look who finally decided to join us. Though I notice ye've come quite unprepared for the occasion."
Lachlan's hand moved instinctively to where his sword should have been, finding only empty air. He'd left his weapons in thesolar, in his haste to reach Erica, and now faced his armed cousin with nothing but his bare hands.
"Let the boy go, Duncan," he said, forcing his voice to remain calm despite the rage building in his chest. "Whatever grievance ye have is with me."
"Oh, but that's where ye're wrong, cousin." Duncan's smile was a twisted thing, full of malice and long-nursed hatred. "Me grievance is with yer entire false life. Yer sham of a marriage, yer stolen inheritance, and this bastard whelp who ye value more than me even though he is merely the kitchen hand’s son."
The blade pressed closer to Hayden's throat, drawing a thin line of blood that made the boy whimper with fear. Lachlan felt something cold and deadly settle in his chest, but he forced himself to remain still. One wrong move and Duncan would open the child's throat.
"Ye think I havenae been watchin'?" Duncan continued, his voice growing more manic. "Think I daenae ken that yer precious marriage is nothin' but a political arrangement? That ye've never even properly bedded yer wife?"
"Ye daenae ken anythin' about what ye're talkin' about, cousin."
"I ken about the heir clause, Lachlan. I ken that if she doesnae give ye a child within a year, the marriage can be annulled. Yer servants talk. They say nothin's happenin' between ye and her."
Trying to buy time, Lachlan decided to go along with his cousin. "Duncan, since ye ken nothin' is happenin' between me and me wife, then yer place as future laird is secure. Put down the dirk."
