Page 61 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
Erica's anger faltered slightly. "What are ye sayin'?"
"I'm sayin' that when Lachlan sees ye facin' down dangerous men alone, he's probably seein' his mother all over again. And rememberin' how that ended." Frederick pushed off from the wall. "It's nae about thinkin' ye're weak, lass. It's about nae wantin' to lose ye in the same way."
The observation hit her like a physical blow. She'd been so focused on feeling dismissed that she hadn't considered what might be driving his protectiveness.
"But that doesnae give him the right to treat me like a child," she said, though with less heat than before.
"Nay, it doesnae. And ye're right to be angry about it." Frederick's grin returned. "But might I suggest that instead of stormin' off like a hurricane, ye go back and tell him exactly that? The lad's thick-skulled, but he's nae stupid. Make him understand the difference between protectin' ye and controllin' ye."
Erica sighed, feeling some of the fight drain out of her. "What if he doesnae want to understand?"
"Then ye make him want to." Frederick's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Trust me, lass—after watchin' that man mope around like a lovesick fool these past weeks, I can promise ye he'll listen. He might nae like what ye have to say, but he'll listen."
Despite everything, Erica found herself considering his words. But then she remembered the dismissive tone in Lachlan'svoice, the way he'd spoken to her as if she were a child who'd misbehaved.
"Perhaps ye're right about his reasonin'," she said finally. "But that doesnae excuse treatin' me like I'm some helpless ornament. I've survived too much to be patronized by anyone—even me husband."
Frederick nodded slowly. "Aye, ye have every right to be angry, lass. Just... dinnae let that anger poison what ye've built with him. The lad cares for ye, even if he's goin' about showin' it all wrong."
"Then he can figure out how to show it properly," Erica said, her jaw setting with stubborn determination. "I'll nae be dismissed like that again, Frederick. Nae by him, not by anyone."
"And what if he comes lookin' for ye to apologize?"
Erica's smile was sharp as a blade. "Then he can look. I've got a clan to worry about and raiders to deal with. If me husband wants to treat me like a decoration instead of a partner, then he can handle his family problems on his own."
"Stubborn as stones, the both of them," Frederick muttered. "This is goin' to get worse before it gets better."
Erica pretended she didn't hear her husband's man-in-arms, and without looking back, she headed toward the chambers she shared with Lachlan. She had plans to make with Ewan andJames, and absolutely no intention of speaking to her husband until he learned the difference between protecting her and controlling her.
"Damn stubborn woman," he growled, his voice deadly calm despite the fury burning in his eyes. "Why cannae ye see I'm tryin' to protect ye!"
He paced behind his desk like a caged wolf, hands clenched at his sides. Duncan's behavior was escalating, growing bolder. Now the fool was striking lasses in broad daylight. It was as if Duncan thought his position as a possible heir gave him the right to terrorize anyone beneath him.
"He's gettin' too comfortable. Too confident that he'll inherit, even though he kens I have a wife now."
The very thought made Lachlan's jaw clench with barely controlled rage. Duncan was testing boundaries, seeing how far he could push before anyone stopped him. Well, today he'd pushed too far.
Lachlan strode to the heavy bell pull beside his desk and gave it a sharp tug.
Within moments, a guard appeared in the doorway. "M'laird?"
"Send word to Duncan. His laird requires his presence. Now."
"Right away, m'laird." The guard bowed and disappeared to carry out the command.
Lachlan began to pace. He'd given Duncan opportunities, trusted him with responsibilities, treated him like the family he was supposed to be. And this was how his cousin repaid that trust—by terrorizing servants like some petty tyrant.
Fifteen minutes later, Duncan knocked and entered without waiting for permission, his expression carefully neutral.
"Cousin," he said with forced cheer. "Ye wanted to see me?"
"Sit." Lachlan's voice cut through the false pleasantries like a blade.
Duncan's smile faltered slightly, but he settled into the chair across from the desk. "Is somethin' wrong?"
"Ye tell me." Lachlan remained standing, using his height to loom over his cousin. "I hear ye had an altercation with one of the kitchen maids today."
"Altercation?" Duncan's laugh sounded forced. "That's a grand word for a simple correction. The lass spilled water all over the corridor I'd just walked through. Made a proper mess of things."
