Page 125 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

"MacKinnon," the man said.

"Ye're on me land," Lachlann said. "State yer business or start ridin'."

"We're travelers," the man said. "Restin’ our horses."

"Ye passed three other villages." Lachlann looked at him steadily. "Try again."

The man's jaw tightened. "Torquil MacLeod sends his regards. He asks that ye reconsider the warrant that was delivered. He's a patient man, but patience has a limit."

"Tell Torquil MacLeod his patience is welcome tae run out whenever it likes." Lachlann kept his voice even, conversational, the tone he used when he wanted the words themselves to carry the weight without needing his volume behind them. "And tell him that the next men he sends onto me land without invitation will nae be received so courteously."

"Is that a threat, MacKinnon?"

"It's an accurate description of what will happen." He let the silence sit for a moment. "Ye have about ten seconds before me men finish circlin’ behind ye, at which point this conversation becomes less comfortable fer everyone. I'd use the time."

The man looked at him. Looked at James, who had positioned himself with the calm, slightly bored expression of a man who had done it many times. Looked at the other five, ranged at the edges of the market square.

He finished his drink, set the cup down on the nearest stall with a deliberateness that was supposed to communicate something, and swung up onto his horse.

"Ye'll regret this," he said.

"I've been told that before," Lachlann said. "Good day tae ye."

He watched them ride south until they were out of sight, then turned to the nearest villager.

"Are ye all right?" he asked.

"We're fine," she said. "They didnae touch anythin'. Just stood there bein' large about it."

"I'll have men stationed at the south road until further notice," he said. "If ye see anything, anyone ye dinnae recognise, anyone askin' questions, ye send word immediately. Dinnae approach them yerself."

"Aye, me laird." She looked at him with the frank appraisal of a woman who had known him since he was a boy. "Is it bad?"

He considered the honest answer.

"It may become bad," he said. "We're prepared fer it."

She nodded, satisfied with that in the way his people were satisfied with the truth when it was delivered plainly.

He left two men at the road, turned his horse, and rode back through the grey afternoon toward the castle.

The gates came into view and he saw her before he'd fully expected to. A figure at the upper window of the east wing, still and watching, the dark shape of Captain visible beside her. He now followed her everywhere.

He didn't raise his hand. He simply held her gaze for the moment it took to pass beneath the window, and it was enough.

Inside the courtyard, he dismounted and gave the horse to the stable lad. James appeared at his shoulder.

"The men are ready," James said. "All posts filled. Scouts reportin’ every two hours."

"Good." Lachlann looked up at the sky, grey and flat, the kind of sky that gave nothing away. "Double the night watch."

"Aye." James paused. "And the lady?"

"She's in the castle," Lachlann said. "That's where she stays."

He crossed the courtyard toward the keep, and somewhere above him he heard the window close.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO