Page 18 of The Laird’s Sinful Secret

“Me laird?” Niall rode up beside him, concern creasing his weathered face. “Ye’ve been quiet all afternoon. Something troubling ye?”

“Just thinking.”

“About the MacKenzie lass?”

Euan shot him a sharp look. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s kenned ye since ye were a lad.” Niall’s expression turned thoughtful. “She got under yer skin, didnae she?”

“She’s—” Euan stopped, searching for words. “She’s nae what I expected.”

“Few people are.” They rode in silence for a moment before Niall spoke again. “The Council made the right decision. Sending that letter, offering the trade—it’s strategic. Smart.”

“I ken that.”

“But ye’re worried about what happens if her faither refuses.”

More than worried. Euan was dreading it. Because if Keith MacKenzie valued his land claims more than his daughter’s freedom, it would break something in Moyra that three months of imprisonment hadn’t managed to touch.

“She still believes he’ll come fer her,” Euan said quietly. “Still has faith that he cares.”

“Maybe he daes.”

“Or maybe he sent her tae that dungeon deliberately. Used her as bait to create exactly thats situation—a MacKenzie in our castle, leverage he can manipulate.” Euan’s jaw tightened. “Either way, she’s caught in the middle of a game she didnae choose tae play.”

“None of us choose the games we’re born intae” Niall observed. “Especially nae lairds’ daughters.”

The truth of it settled over Euan like a weight. Moyra hadn’t asked to be Keith MacKenzie’s pawn any more than he’d asked to be scarred and broken at the Battle of Loch Eilein. They were both prisoners of their fathers’ choices, their clans’ histories, the endless cycle of Highland politics.

The difference was, he had power now. The ability to choose his own path, to make decisions that affected hundreds of lives.

Including hers.

“Come,” he said, turning his horse back toward the castle. “We should return. There’s still much tae be done.”

But as they rode, he couldn’t shake the image of Moyra standing in that window, looking out at the sea with longing in her eyes.

Longing for stars. For freedom. For a life that didn’t involve being locked away for men’s political games.

And saints help him, but he wanted to give her all of it.