Page 58 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
"How bad?" Erica asked, though she dreaded the answer.
"Bad enough. Livestock stolen, crops burned. Nay one killed yet, but it's only a matter of time."
James nodded. "The timin' is suspicious. It's as if someone knows ye're nae there to defend the lands properly."
Erica looked up sharply. "Someone's testin' our defenses while I'm away?"
"That's what we're thinkin'," Ewan confirmed. "They're seein' how long it takes for help to come, how strong our response is."
Erica began pacing, her mind racing. "Ewan, ye’re still head of the guards. Why are there nae men defendin' the borders? If we need more guards there, then double the patrols."
"With what men?" Ewan asked bluntly. "Leo never cared about his guards' lives so we lost more men during his rule than over the past ten years. Our few men are spread thin across McLaren territory."
"Ye need to go back, me lady," Ada said immediately.
"Nay," Erica responded firmly. "That's exactly what they want. To draw me away from Kinnaird, isolate me from me strongest ally."
Ewan looked around the room. "Then what do ye suggest?"
Before Erica could reply, James stepped forward. "If ye willnae go back, then I think ye should involve yer husband. As an allied laird, he has obligations to help defend McLaren lands. And his forces are considerably stronger than ours."
Erica nodded slowly. "Exactly what I was goin' to say. Lachlan should ken about this immediately."
"And the other matter?" James interrupted. "The heir clause?"
Erica's cheeks flushed, but she kept her voice steady. "That's between me husband and me. One crisis at a time."
"But me lady?—"
“I said that’s between me husband and me, James.”
Ada cleared her throat. "If ye'll forgive an old woman's observation, ye might find that particular problem solves itself sooner than ye think."
"Ada!" Erica's blush deepened.
"I'm just sayin' what I see," Ada said innocently.
Ewan looked between them with confusion, but James's sudden cheerful countenance suggested he understood perfectly.
"Right then," Erica said, eager to change the subject. "I need to find Lachlan and tell him about the raids. Ewan, start preparin' a list of what we need—men, supplies, anythin' that could help. James, draft those messages."
"Where will ye be?" Ewan asked.
"Lookin' for me husband." She moved toward the door. "I need to speak to him about what is happenin' to me people at once."
Erica headed toward the great hall. She had a husband to find and a crisis to resolve. The castle affairs would have to wait until she'd spoken with Lachlan about defending her clan's lands.
As Erica made her way through the castle corridors, her mind churned with worry over James and Ewan's news. Raiders at McLaren lands, a marriage clause that demanded an heir within the year—problems that required immediate attention.
But underneath the worry was something else entirely. A warmth that had nothing to do with concern and everything to do with the man she was seeking. She found herself thinking about Lachlan's hands on her body, the way he'd worshipped her with such reverence these past days.
Her cheeks burned with the boldness of it. She pushed the images that flooded her mind away with effort, focusing instead on her immediate task. The path Erica took caused her to pass through the kitchen area, and as she approached, a sharp cry of pain echoed from somewhere nearby.
"Please, sir, I dinnae do anythin' wrong!"
Erica quickened her pace, following the sound around a corner, where she stopped short at the sight before her.
A man she didn't recognize stood over a young maid—one of the kitchen girls Erica had seen before—his hand raised as if to strike her again. The girl cowered against the stone wall, tears streaming down her face.
