Page 90 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
"So, what will ye do about it?" Mairi asked finally.
"Do about it?" Erica looked confused.
"Will ye tell him?" Ada clarified. "A man likes to ken when he's won his wife's heart, especially when he's clearly given her his in return."
"Has he?" The question came out breathless, hopeful.
"Oh lass," Mairi laughed. "Have ye nae seen the way that man looks at ye? Like ye hung the moon and stars just for him? He's been lost to ye since that first night ye played cards together."
Erica felt heat bloom in her cheeks as she remembered that evening—the way he'd looked at her across the table, the challenge in his eyes, the moment when she'd realized he was nothing like the cold Highland laird she'd expected.
"I think," she said slowly, "I think maybe I should tell him. Tonight."
"Good," Ada said firmly. "Nay sense in keepin' such important feelings to yerself. Life's too short and too uncertain for that."
As if summoned by her words, a commotion arose in the courtyard below. Raised voices, the thunder of hooves, urgent shouts that made all three women look toward the windows with concern.
Erica rose and moved to the glass, her heart already beginning to race with familiar anxiety. In the courtyard below, a messenger on a lathered horse was speaking urgently to one of Lachlan's men, gesturing wildly as other servants and guards gathered around.
"That messenger is McLaren," Erica gasped.
"Aye. What do ye think—" Ada began, but Erica was already moving toward the door.
"I have to find out what's happenin’," she said, her peaceful afternoon and thoughts of love declarations forgotten in the face of potential crisis. "That messenger looks like he's brought serious trouble."
She hurried through the corridors, her skirts rustling against the stone floors as she made her way toward the training grounds where the messenger had been directed. Behind her, she couldhear Ada and Mairi following, their footsteps quick with shared concern.
As she rounded the corner, she could see the messenger standing in the center of the yard, still travel-stained and breathing hard, speaking urgently to Frederick while other guards gathered around.
"I must speak with m’lady immediately, and it cannae wait!"
At the same moment, Lachlan appeared from the opposite direction. His shirt was damp with sweat, his hair pushed back from his face, and his expression was already shifting to the controlled alertness she'd learned meant serious trouble.
The messenger's head swiveled between them as they both approached, and his face flooded with relief.
"M'lady! M'laird!" he called out, his voice cracking with urgency. "Thank the saints ye're both here. I bring word from McLaren lands."
Erica felt her blood go cold at his tone. "What word?" she asked, quickening her pace even as Lachlan moved to her side.
"Attacks, m'lady. Three more farms hit in the past two days. But these werenae random raids—they knew exactly which farms to target, which families supported ye most strongly."
Lachlan's jaw tightened as he stepped closer to Erica, his protective instincts immediately activated. "How many casualties?"
"Two dead, several wounded. But m'lady, it's worse than that." The messenger's voice dropped. "They left messages. Written threats nailed to the barn doors."
"What did they say?" Erica asked, though she dreaded the answer.
"That this is what happens to those who serve a false lady. That more will follow until ye abdicate in favor of... of Councilman Boyd."
Boyd—the man she'd dismissed for his betrayal, whose son had held a knife to Ewan's throat just two weeks ago.
"He's makin’ his move," Lachlan said grimly. "Usin’ his network of supporters to force yer hand."
"Ewan?" Erica asked urgently. "Is he safe?"
"Aye, m'lady. He's coordinating the defense, but he sent me to tell ye—ye need to return immediately. The people are frightened, and some are startin' to waver. They need to see their lady standin’ strong."
Erica's hand moved instinctively to her neck, massaging the knot of tension that had formed there, heavier now because of whatwas at stake. Her people were being used as scapegoats, dying for their loyalty to her.
