Page 76 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin

"Very broad shoulders," one of the women was saying, actually measuring the span with her hands. "Perfect for carryin' babies."

"And look at those hands—big enough to hold triplets!"

Triplets? Highland gods, rescue me from these women.

Finally, when he thought he might actually flee from these well-meaning matrons, Erica took pity on him.

"Enough, all of ye," she laughed, though her face remained flushed with amusement. "Let me at least get inside before ye start planin' christenin's and namin' all our future children."

The women reluctantly stepped back, but not before Agnes gave Lachlan one final pat on the arm.

"Ye've done well for yerself, lad," she said with approval. "And ye'll do right by our lass, or ye'll answer to all of us."

As the crowd began to disperse, Lachlan moved quickly to Erica's side, his face still burning with embarrassment.

"Do they do that to everyone?" he muttered.

"Have I ever brought a man home?" Erica replied, her eyes still dancing with laughter. "Congratulations, husband. Ye've been officially adopted by the McLaren matrons."

"Christ preserve me," he said under his breath, which only made her laugh harder.

The crowd parted reluctantly, still calling out greetings and blessings as the couple made their way toward the main doors. But they'd barely stepped inside the great hall when a thin, sharp-featured man emerged from the shadows with obvious agitation.

"Lady McLaren!" The man strode forward with barely concealed anger, his attention focused entirely on Erica while completely disregarding Lachlan's presence. "Ye must put a stop to this madness immediately."

Erica's demeanor shifted instantly from warmth to cool authority. "What madness might that be, Councilman Boyd?"

"That guard of yers—Ewan—he's thrown out half the men I brought in to strengthen the defenses. Good men, experienced fighters, and he's sendin' them away like common beggars!"

"Then I'm sure he had good reason," Erica replied calmly. "Ewan has me complete trust in all matters of security."

"But these are men I personally vouched for?—"

"And Ewan is me captain of guards, with full authority to determine who serves in that capacity." Erica's voice carried the ring of final authority. "If he deemed them unsuitable, then unsuitable they are."

Boyd's face flushed with frustration. "Lady McLaren, ye must reconsider me request."

"I must do nothin' of the sort. Now, if ye'll excuse me. I only just arrived and—" Erica turned as if to walk away, clearly considering the matter closed.

But Boyd, in his agitation, reached out and grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"Now see here, ye cannae just?—"

The rest of his words died as Lachlan's hand fell to his sword hilt with a soft, menacing scrape of steel. The Highland laird's voice, when it came, was deadly quiet.

"Ye better let her go right now, or ye'll end up without an arm."

Boyd went white as sheep's wool, his gaze finally taking in the tall, dangerous man beside his lady. The threat in Lachlan's blue eyes was unmistakable, and Boyd's hand fell away from Erica's wrist as if burned.

Instinctively, Erica stepped closer to her husband's side, the movement small but significant. She was choosing her alliance, making it clear where her loyalty lay.

"Councilman Boyd," she said, her voice now carrying ice-cold authority, "yer services are nay longer necessary to Clan McLaren. I suggest ye vacate the premises within the hour."

"Ye cannae dismiss me—I've served this clan for?—"

"Guard!" Erica called out sharply.

A McLaren warrior appeared immediately, his hand already on his weapon as he took in the tense scene.