Page 21 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

A young woman stepped forward from the group of servants, petite with chestnut hair and warm brown eyes. She bobbed a quick curtsy. "Me laird."

"Orla." Lachlann gestured to Alba. "This is Lady Alba MacKinnon. She's tae be our guest fer... a time. See that she has everything she needs. A bath, fresh clothes, food. Whatever she requires."

Orla's eyes widened slightly, but she recovered quickly. "Of course, me laird. Right away." She turned to Alba with a warm smile. "If ye'll follow me, me lady?"

Alba glanced at Lachlann, and he saw the question in her eyes. He gave her a small nod of encouragement. "Orla will take good care of ye. I'll check on ye later, once ye've had a chance to rest."

"Thank ye," Alba said quietly, and followed Orla into the castle.

Lachlann watched until she disappeared from view, then turned to find James watching him with a knowing expression.

"Nae a word," Lachlann warned.

"Didnae say anything."

"Ye were thinkin’ it."

James's lips twitched. "Aye, I was."

Lachlann shook his head and strode into the castle, making his way directly to his office. He had a letter to write, and the longer he delayed, the worse the situation would become.

His office was exactly as he'd left it—maps spread across the large oak desk, correspondence stacked neatly to one side, the smell of old parchment and ink familiar and grounding. He settled into his chair and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, dipping his quill in ink.

For a long moment, he just stared at the blank page. How should he explain it? How did he tell his best friend that he'd brought his sister halfway across the Highlands, that she was now in his castle, under his protection, in a situation that could easily be misconstrued?

He began to write.

Calum,

I'm writing tae inform ye of events that occurred following the masquerade at Dunstaffnage. Alba is safe and unharmed, but circumstances have required me tae bring her tae Barra fer her protection.

He explained everything—Torquil's proposal at the ball, which he had overheard, the attack on the road, the fight that had ensued. He detailed Torquil's threats, the blocked roads to Oban, the decision to bring her to Barra as the only safe option.

Alba will remain here under me protection until it's safe fer her tae return home. I've assigned her a maid and given strict instructions that she's tae have everything she needs. On me honor as yer braither in the Covenant, I swear that nay harm will come tae her while she's in me care.

I'll send word as soon as passage tae MacKinnon lands is secure. Until then, trust that she's safe.

Yer braither,

Lachlann

He read it over twice, making sure he'd included everything important, then sealed it with his signet ring and called for a messenger.

A young man appeared almost immediately, fleet-footed Donald, who'd made the run to England and back more times than Lachlann could count.

"This goes tae Calum MacKinnon in England," Lachlann said, handing over the letter. "Ye're tae deliver it directly intae his hands, nay one else's. Understood?"

"Aye, me laird."

"And Donald? Speed matters here. Take whatever horses ye need, change them as often as necessary. Just get it tae him as quickly as possible."

Donald nodded and hurried out, the letter tucked securely into his satchel.

Lachlann leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

The sun was fully up now, streaming through the windows of his office. He could hear the castle alive around him, servants moving through the corridors, the distant sounds of the kitchens preparing breakfast, voices calling to each other in the courtyard below.

His normal life, continuing as if everything hadn't just changed completely.