Page 68 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin

"Why dinnae ye tell me?"

"When exactly should I have done that? Between bein' dismissed about Duncan, or when ye were stormin' out of our chambers like an angry bear?"

They stood facing each other in the courtyard, both breathing hard, the air between them crackling with tension and unspoken accusations.

"This conversation isnae over," Lachlan said, his voice deadly quiet.

"Oh, but it is," Erica replied, matching his tone.

Before he could respond, she turned and walked away, her spine straight as a sword blade.

Half of her wished he would follow her, the other half prayed he didn't, but as Erica reached the heavy oak doors that led from the main hall to the gardens, a gentle voice stopped her.

"M'lady?"

She turned to find Mairi approaching with a small bouquet of wildflowers—purple heather, white roses, and sprigs of rosemary tied with a simple ribbon. The cook's round face was creased with concern.

"I thought ye might enjoy these," Mairi said softly, extending the flowers. "Fresh from the kitchen garden this mornin'."

Erica hesitated, her anger still burning hot in her chest. But there was something so genuine in the older woman's gesture that she found herself accepting the bouquet.

"Thank ye, Mairi. They're bonnie."

"Aye, they are." Mairi's eyes twinkled with something that might have been mischief. "Ye ken, m'lady, sometimes the strongest flowers grow in the rockiest soil. Takes time for the roots to settle proper."

The words seemed layered with meaning, and Erica found herself studying the cook's weathered face.

"He's a brute with feelings, milady," Mairi continued quietly, glancing toward the closed doors of the great hall. "Sometimes they just need a wee nudge in the right direction."

Despite her fury, Erica felt something soften in her chest. The flowers were beautiful, their sweet scent rising in the morning air, and Mairi's kindness was a balm to her raw emotions.

"Perhaps," she said carefully. "But some brutes are too stubborn to see reason, even with nudgin'."

Mairi chuckled. "Aye, well. The best ones usually are."

Erica was still holding the flowers when she stepped onto the garden path, their fragrance mixing with the morning air.Mairi's words echoed in her mind, making her wonder if perhaps she was being too harsh, too unforgiving.

Should I go back? Try to talk to him without so much anger?

But before she could turn around, a sharp cry of pain cut through the morning quiet.

"Please, sir! I dinnae do anythin' wrong! Let me go!"

The voice was young, frightened, and achingly familiar. Hayden.

Erica dropped the flowers and ran toward the sound, her heart hammering as she rounded the corner of the kitchen gardens. What she saw made her blood freeze in her veins.

Duncan had little Hayden by the front of his shirt, the boy's feet barely touching the ground as he dangled from the man's grip. Hayden was struggling desperately, his small hands pushing against Duncan's chest, tears streaming down his face.

"Ye think ye can run wild through this castle like ye own it?" Duncan was snarling, giving the boy a violent shake. "Gettin' under everyone's feet, makin' noise when decent folk are tryin' to conduct business?"

"I was just playin'!" Hayden sobbed. "I wasnae hurtin' anyone!"

"Liar!" Duncan drew back his free hand.

"Nay!" Erica cried out, running forward as fast as her skirts would allow.

But she was too far away. Duncan's hand cracked across the small boy's face with vicious force, snapping Hayden's head to the side and sending a fresh wave of tears down his cheeks.