"Stop!" Erica commanded, her voice cutting through the corridor like a blade.
The man spun around, his hand still raised, his face flushed with anger. "Who do ye think ye are to order me around?"
"I'm Lady Kinnaird," Erica said coldly, stepping between him and the trembling maid. "The Lady of this castle. And I'm orderin' ye to step away from her."
The color drained from the stranger's face as he realized who he was speaking to. She saw him quickly recalculate, his expression shifting to something that might have passed for contrite.
"Lady Kinnaird," he said with a forced smile, lowering his hand. "I... forgive me. I was simply teachin' this maid a lesson after she made a serious error."
"And who are ye to be teachin' lessons to anyone in this castle?" Erica demanded.
"Duncan Morris," he replied, straightening his shoulders as if the name should mean something. "First cousin to Laird Kinnaird. And his heir."
The words hit Erica like a physical blow.
His heir.
This cruel man, who struck servants, was next in line for Kinnaird? And if the marriage contract James had found was enforced, if she and Lachlan failed to produce an heir within the year, Duncan would inherit not just Kinnaird but McLaren as well through their alliance.
Over me dead body, she thought fiercely, studying Duncan's face with new understanding. This man will never rule over me people.
"I dinnae do anythin' wrong!" the girl protested, her voice shaking. "I swear it, m'lady! I was just cleanin' the corridor like I always do!"
Erica's frown deepened as she looked between them, seeing Duncan's character clearly now. "Even if she had made a mistake," she said, her voice deadly quiet, "it's nae yer duty to discipline the servants. That responsibility belongs to me, as Lady of this castle."
Duncan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Of course. I was merely?—"
"Ye were merely oversteppin' yer authority." Erica moved to help the maid to her feet, noting the red mark blooming on the girl's cheek. "Are ye hurt, lass?"
"Nay, m'lady. Just... just frightened."
"Go to the kitchens," Erica said gently. "Ask Mairi to give ye somethin' cool for that mark."
The girl curtsied shakily and hurried away, leaving Erica alone with Duncan in the corridor.
"I'll be speakin' with me husband about this," she said, her voice carrying the full authority of her position. "And I suggest ye remember in future that the servants of this castle answer to their laird and lady, nae to... heirs."
The way she said the last word made it clear what she thought of his presumed position.
Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heel and walked away, her mind racing. She needed to find Lachlan immediately—not just to discuss the raids at McLaren, but to tell him about his cousin's behavior. And more urgently than ever, she needed to ensure that Duncan never got the chance to inherit anything.
Which meant she and Lachlan needed to produce an heir.
Soon.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Erica found Lachlan in his study, reviewing some correspondence. The sight of him bent over his desk, dark hair catching the candlelight, would have made her heart flutter just hours ago. Now it only fueled her anger.
"We need to speak," she said, closing the door firmly behind her.
He looked up, immediately noting the tension in her posture. "Did somethin’ happen?"
"Yer cousin happened." She moved to stand before his desk, her hands clenched at her sides. "I found Duncan strikin' one of the kitchen maids in the corridor. A lass who'd done nothin' wrong."
Lachlan's expression darkened instantly. "He what?"
"Struck her across the face for supposedly makin' an error. Though when I questioned the girl, she swore she'd done nothin'but clean the corridor as always." Erica's voice grew sharper. "He was enjoyin' it, Lachlan. The power, the fear in her eyes."