Page 102 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin

While Frederick organized the security arrangements, Lachlan sought out the castle's seamstress with very specific instructions."I need a gown. Something worthy of a lady, but suitable fer dancin'. Green, I think. The color of spring."

"How much time do I have, me lord?"

"I want it a day before the dance. Make the bonniest dress ye've ever made."

The woman's eyes widened, but she nodded. "It'll be done."

The preparations continued in secret. Lachlan arranged for a carriage—a light traveling coach with proper springs that would make the journey comfortable. He consulted with the village elders about the evening's festivities, ensuring everything would be as it should be.

His careful planning nearly came undone when Erica discovered him in a heated discussion with Frederick about the positioning of guards.

"...and make sure the perimeter is secure without bein' obvious about it," Lachlan was saying as she entered the study.

"Perimeter? Is there another attack?" Erica's voice made both men turn. "What kind of clan business requires a perimeter?"

Frederick shot Lachlan a look that clearly said 'you're on yer own' and quickly excused himself.

"Just routine security matters," Lachlan said, attempting to sound casual.

Erica studied his face with the keen perception that made her such an effective leader. "Ye're actin' strange, husband. Secretive. Shouldn't I be part of clan business that involves security?"

"Nae all of it, love. Some things are..." He searched for words. "Routine."

"Routine." Her tone suggested she didn't believe him for a moment, but after a long pause, she simply smiled. "Very well. Keep yer secrets. But I'll find out eventually—ye ken I will."

Three days later, as the sun began its descent toward the western hills, Lachlan presented himself at their chamber door with the finished gown draped over his arm.

"What's this?" Erica asked, looking up from the correspondence she'd been reviewing.

"A gift. For tonight."

She set aside her papers and approached, her fingers trailing over the rich green silk. The gown was simple but elegant, with flowing sleeves that would move beautifully for dancing and abodice that would complement her figure without restricting her movement.

"It's bonnie, but what's the occasion?"

"Trust me?"

Something in his expression must have convinced her, because she nodded. "Always."

An hour later, dressed in the green gown with her hair arranged in an intricate braid adorned with small wildflowers, Erica allowed Lachlan to hand her into the waiting carriage. The vehicle was well-sprung and comfortable, with cushioned seats and glass windows that could be lowered to let in the evening air.

"Now will ye tell me where we're goin'?" she asked as the carriage began to move.

"To remember what happiness feels like."

The village of Kinnaird was transformed for the Beltane celebration. Colorful ribbons hung between the cottages, and garlands of spring flowers adorned every doorway. In the center of the village, a great bonfire had been built but not yet lit—that would come later, as part of the evening's ceremonies.

As their carriage rolled to a stop, Erica gasped at the sight before them. Tables laden with food lined the village square, and musicians tuned their instruments near a cleared area thatwould serve as the dancing ground. Villagers in their finest clothes moved about in excited preparation, children darting between the adults with wreaths of flowers in their hair.

"Oh, Lachlan," she breathed. "It's wonderful."

"Wait until ye see the rest."

He helped her from the carriage, and immediately they were surrounded by warm greetings from his people. Erica had met many of them during their brief time at Kinnaird, but tonight was different—tonight she wasn't Lady McLaren conducting business, but simply a woman come to celebrate with her husband's clan.

"Me lady!" called out an elderly woman, Erica recognized as the baker's wife. "Ye look beautiful! Green suits ye perfectly."

"Thank ye. Everythin’ looks so festive!"