"And ye think marriage will change that?"
"I hope so, m'lady. A good woman can heal a man's heart, me maither always said."
As Moira walked away, Erica found herself wondering what wounds Lachlan might be carrying. She thought of the scars she'd glimpsed on his arms and the one that ran down from his cheek and disappeared into his shirt. Was that the reason he'd moved carefully around her last night, as if he was used to being rejected?
"M'lady?"
Erica turned to see an older man approaching, his bearing suggesting he was someone of importance in the household.
"I'm Robert, the captain of the guard," he said with a formal bow. "The laird wanted me to escort ye if ye wished to see the defenses."
"That's kind of him," Erica said, though she wondered where Lachlan was that he couldn't show her himself.
As they walked toward the battlements, Robert spoke freely about his laird.
"Finest commander I've ever served under," he said with obvious pride. "Never asks his men to do anythin' he wouldnae do himself. And in battle... well, I've never seen anythin' like it."
"He's fought many battles?"
"Aye, but always in defense of others. Never started a conflict, but always finished them." Robert's expression grew serious. "He's had to make hard choices, bein' laird so young. But he's never chosen wrong, nae once."
They climbed to the top of the castle's highest tower, and Erica gasped at the view. The Kinnaird lands stretched out below them in rolling waves of green, dotted with prosperous farms and thriving villages.
"It's beautiful," she breathed.
"Aye, and all of it peaceful," Robert said with satisfaction. "Nay clan has dared attack us in years. They ken the cost would be too high."
Movement in the training yard below caught her eye, and Erica found herself looking down at Lachlan again. He was working with a group of younger men, demonstrating sword techniques with patience and skill. Even from this height, she could see the respect in his students' faces.
"He trains them himself?" she asked.
"Every single one. Says a leader should know his men's capabilities." Robert glanced at her. "He's a good man, m'lady. Hard when he needs to be, but fair always."
As they descended from the tower, Erica's mind churned with everything she'd heard. This wasn't the picture of a harsh lairdshe'd expected. Every person she'd met had spoken of Lachlan with genuine affection and respect, not fear.
It's so different from our clan life under Leo's rule.
She thought of the stories Ada and Ewan had brought back about how villagers scurried away when her brother approached.
Here, people smiled when they mentioned their laird. They worried about his happiness, not their own safety around him.
"There ye are," a familiar voice said, and Erica's heart jumped.
She turned to see Lachlan approaching, his hair damp with sweat from training, his shirt clinging to his chest in ways that made her mouth go dry.
"I was wonderin' where me wife had gotten to," he said with a smirk that made her stomach flutter.
"I was... explorin'," she managed, acutely aware that Robert was watching their interaction with obvious interest.
"Good. I want ye to feel at home here." Lachlan's eyes were warm as they met hers. "How are ye findin' Castle Kinnaird?"
"Very... impressive," she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. Up close, she could see the sheen of perspiration on hisskin, catch the scent of his soap and male exertion. It was doing disturbing things to her composure.
"I'm glad ye approve." His gaze lingered on her face. "Perhaps ye'd join me for the midday meal? I'd like to hear yer thoughts on what ye've seen."
"I... yes. That would be nice."
"Excellent." He turned to Robert. "Thank ye for showin' the lady around."