Page 16 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin

"Certainly nae," she said firmly, rising from her chair. "I came here for me clan, Ewan. To secure their future and ensure their prosperity. I'll nae abandon them for... for whatever comfort this castle might offer."

"But lass?—"

"Nay." Her voice brooked no argument. "I'm Lady McLaren first and always. Lady Kinnaird is just a role I'm playin' to protect me people. Daenae forget that."

Ewan nodded slowly, but she caught the disappointment in his eyes. "As ye wish, me lady."

"Good. Now let's see about implementin' these trade agreements. The sooner we can show concrete benefits from this alliance, the better."

Ewan started toward the door, then paused, turning back to face her. "And how exactly do ye plan to lead the clan from here?"

"What do ye mean?"

"I mean, if ye're stayin' at Kinnaird as Lady Kinnaird, how will ye oversee McLaren lands? Make the daily decisions that need makin'? Handle disputes, manage the harvest, ensure the people's needs are met?" His weathered face was serious. "A clan needs its leader present, lass. Letters and occasional visits willnae be enough."

Erica felt her stomach drop as the reality of his words hit her. She'd been so focused on securing the alliance that she hadn't fully considered the practical implications.

"I... I'll work somethin' out with Lachlan. I am hopin' he understands the need for me to visit me people often."

"And if he refuses? What then?"

The question hung in the air between them. Erica realized with growing unease that she'd made assumptions about her new husband's willingness to accommodate her needs as Lady McLaren.

"Then I'll negotiate," she said finally, though her voice lacked its earlier confidence. "I'll make him understand that this marriage only works if both our clans benefit."

Ewan nodded slowly, but she caught the worry in his eyes. "Aye, well. Best have that conversation sooner rather than later, me lady."

As Ewan left the library, Erica remained standing by the window, her mind churning. She'd meant every word about her duty to McLaren, but Ewan was right—she needed to discuss the practical arrangements with Lachlan. And soon.

With a sigh, she left the library, closing the door gently behind her.

"Good mornin', m'lady," a young maid said with a curtsy as Erica entered the great hall. "Can I fetch ye anythin'?"

"Just lookin' around," Erica replied with a smile. "I'm curious about me new home."

The girl's face brightened. "Oh, ye'll love it here, m'lady. The laird runs a fine household. Always fair, always cares about his people."

Erica noted the genuine warmth in the girl's voice. "He's a good laird then?"

"The best," the maid said without hesitation. "Never raises his voice in anger, always listens when we have concerns. Nae like some lairds I've heard tales of."

As Erica continued through the castle, she heard similar sentiments echoed by other servants. A stable boy spoke of how the laird had personally tended his injured horse. An elderly housekeeper mentioned how he'd ensured her son found work when times were hard.

A woman approached with a baby on her hip and a toddler clinging to her skirts.

"I'm Moira," the woman said with a respectful bob. "I wanted to thank ye."

"Thank me? For what?"

"For marryin' our laird. He's been so lonely, and we've all been worried about him havin' nay heir. Now maybe he'll be happy again."

The words struck Erica oddly.

Happy again? What does that mean?

"Was he unhappy before?" she asked gently.

Moira's expression grew thoughtful. "Nae unhappy exactly, but... distant. Like he was carryin' a great weight. Always doin' right by everyone else but never takin' anythin' for himself."