Page 24 of The Icy Highlander’s Virgin (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #4)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

E rica stretched luxuriously across the bed, her body still humming with contentment from Lachlan's earlier attentions. The silk sheets felt decadent against her bare skin, and she couldn't help but smile at the memory of his playful kisses.

A soft knock interrupted her reverie. "Come in," she called, pulling the sheet higher.

Ada bustled through the door with her usual efficiency, but stopped short when she saw Erica's face.

"Well now," Ada said, her weathered features creasing into a knowing smile. "Someone's lookin' particularly radiant this mornin'."

"Am I?" Erica asked innocently, though she could feel heat rising in her cheeks.

"Och, aye. Practically glowin', ye are." Ada moved to the washbasin, preparing fresh water. "I'd say married life is agreein' with ye quite well."

"Ada," Erica warned, but there was no real reproach in her voice.

"What? I'm just sayin' what I see." Ada's eyes sparkled with mischief as she approached the bed. "And what I see is a woman who's been thoroughly... appreciated."

"Ada!"

"Could be ye'll have news for me soon," Ada continued, completely unrepentant. "A wee bairn, perhaps?"

Erica's hand moved instinctively to her flat stomach. She chose not to mention that despite their growing intimacy, she and Lachlan hadn't fully consummated their marriage yet. That was between them alone.

"It's far too early for such talk," she said instead, accepting the damp cloth Ada offered.

"Is it? Ye've got that look about ye. Trust me, I've seen it before."

Erica stood and moved behind the privacy screen, beginning her morning ablutions. "By the way, where is Ewan? And has James returned from his trip? I need to meet with them."

"James returned from the McLaren lands this mornin'," Ada said, laying out a fresh gown. "Ewan's been waitin' for ye to wake up. Said he had important matters to discuss."

"What kind of matters?"

"Dinnae say. But both looked serious enough." Ada held up the green wool dress. "This one?"

"Aye, that's fine." Erica emerged from behind the screen, allowing Ada to help her into the dress. "How serious?"

"The kind that has James pacin' and Ewan wearin' his battle face."

That got Erica's attention. She'd seen Ewan's "battle face" before—it usually meant trouble.

"Where are they now?"

"Waitin' in the small solar. Said they dinnae want to be overheard." Ada finished with the laces and stepped back. "There. Proper as a lady should be."

"Thank ye." Erica moved toward the door, then paused. "Ada? If anyone asks..."

"I never saw ye lookin' so thoroughly satisfied? Yer secret's safe, lass."

Erica laughed despite herself. "Ye're impossible."

"Aye, but I'm right about the glowin' part."

Still shaking her head, Erica left their chambers with Ada, quickening her pace to keep up, and made her way through the corridors toward the solar. Whatever Ewan and James needed to discuss was serious enough to bring James back from McLaren lands early.

They found them both waiting as Ada had said—James pacing by the window with documents clutched in his hands, Ewan standing with his arms crossed and that grim expression she'd learned to recognize.

"Gentlemen," she said, entering and closing the door behind her. "What's so urgent it's got both of ye lookin' like someone has declared war on MacLaren?"

James immediately turned from the window, his face grave. "Me Lady, we have two matters of serious concern."

"Sit," Ewan said gruffly, gesturing to a chair. "Ye'll want to be seated for this."

Erica remained standing, crossing her arms. "Just tell me."

James cleared his throat and held up the documents. "First, I found additional clauses in the betrothal contract while reviewin' the clan records."

Erica swallowed, suddenly feeling the hair on her arm stand. "What kind of clauses?"

"The kind that could void yer marriage," James said grimly. "If there's nay heir within a year of the weddin', the marriage can be annulled. The contract states that an heir is the paramount reason for the alliance."

Erica felt the blood drain from her face. "A year?"

"Aye."

Ewan stepped forward. "And that's nae our only problem."

"What else?"

"There's been trouble at McLaren lands," Ewan said, his weathered face hard. "Raiders from the north. They've hit three of our border farms in the past week."

"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.

"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.