Page 75 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
Lachlan forced his attention back to military matters, though part of his mind remained fixed on Erica's words. "Aye. Twenty men to reinforce the weak borders as we discussed. But keep five with us—at a distance, but close enough to respond if needed."
"Understood." Frederick raised his hand in a subtle signal, and Lachlan watched as their escort smoothly divided, most of the seasoned Kinnaird warriors peeling off toward the borderlands while five remained at a discrete distance.
"Will that be enough?" Erica asked, having noticed the maneuver.
"For now. We'll assess the situation and adjust as needed." He guided his horse closer to hers as they passed under the castle gates. "But I brought me best men, lass. They'll hold whatever needs holdin'."
The relief on her face was palpable. "Thank ye. I ken what it costs ye to station yer men so far from home."
"Ye and yer people are me people now," he said simply. "Their safety is me responsibility."
As they entered the courtyard of McLaren Castle, Lachlan took in the modest but well-maintained structure. It wasn't as grand as Kinnaird, but it was solid, defensible, and—most importantly—filled with people who looked at his wife like she was their salvation.
For the first time, he truly understood what he'd married into. Not just a woman, but a calling. Not just a clan, but a sacred trust.
And watching Erica's face as she came home to her people, he realized he was beginning to understand why that calling meant so much to her.
The moment they passed through the castle gates, the courtyard erupted in celebration. Servants, guards, and clan members who'd been waiting inside came pouring out, their faces bright with joy at seeing their lady returned.
"Lady Erica!"
"She's home!"
"Our bonnie lass is back!"
The crowd surged forward, but unlike the respectful distance maintained by his own people, these folk treated Erica like beloved family. The older women were particularly free with their affections, reaching out to touch her hair, her hands, her face with the familiarity of those who'd helped raise her.
"Och, look at ye," crooned an elderly woman with silver hair. "So bonnie, so healthy-lookin'. That husband of yers is feedin' ye well, I can see."
"Aye, and look here," said another, bold enough to pat Erica's stomach with a knowing smile. "Is that a wee bulge I'm seein' already? Or just good highland cookin'?"
Erica's cheeks flamed red. "Agnes, ye daft old woman?—"
"Nothin' wrong with a lass puttin' on a bit of weight when she's well cared for," Agnes continued with a wink. "Shows her man kens his duties."
Lachlan watched this intimate display with fascination. At Kinnaird, such familiarity with the laird's person would be unthinkable. But here, these people clearly saw Erica not just as their leader, but as their cherished daughter returned home.
He dismounted from his horse, intending to help Erica down, when suddenly the attention of the elderly women shifted to him with alarming intensity.
"Och, and this must be yer husband!" Agnes exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she took in Lachlan's tall frame and broad shoulders. "Just as bonnie as we were told!"
Before Lachlan could react, weathered hands were reaching for him—touching his hair, pressing against his arms to test themuscle beneath his shirt, examining him like a prize stallion brought to market.
"Look at the size of him!" another woman declared, actually squeezing his bicep through his sleeve. "Strong as an ox, this one is."
"And that hair," cooed a third, bold enough to run her fingers through the dark strands that had escaped his leather tie. "Dark as midnight and thick as wool."
Lachlan stood frozen, every instinct screaming at him to step back, to assert his authority, to remind these people that he was a Highland laird who commanded respect. But the sheer delight on their faces, their obvious joy in welcoming him as part of their extended family, left him utterly disarmed.
"Yer bairns will be very handsome," Agnes announced with authority, patting his chest approvingly. "Tall too, with this height."
"Oh aye," agreed another. "Dark-haired beauties, the lot of them."
"Strong lads who'll be able to protect the clan, and lasses who'll break hearts across the Highlands."
Lachlan maintained a stony face as more hands explored his person with the casual familiarity one might show a beloved nephew. His desperate gaze found Erica, silently pleading forrescue, but she was watching the entire spectacle with barely contained amusement.
Her dark eyes sparkled with mirth as she took in his obvious discomfort, one hand pressed to her lips to hide her smile.
