Page 30 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

"Good mornin’," Lachlann said quietly beside her.

"Morning," Alba murmured back, not quite meeting his eyes.

Food was served—porridge with honey, fresh bread, cold meat from last night's dinner. Alba took small portions of everything and focused on eating, trying to ignore the weight of curious stares.

The table around them had gone noticeably quiet.

Malcolm, the old council member, kept glancing between her and Lachlann with undisguised interest. Morag from the kitchens watched with a knowing smile. Even James, sitting across from them, looked amused.

Alba ate faster, barely tasting her food. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of. People were already talking, already speculating about why she was there, what her relationship with Lachlann might be.

First the ball, where half the Highland lords had seen Lachlann rescue her from Torquil. Then, seated at his right like she was something more than just a guest seeking protection.

Her reputation was already precarious. If rumors started spreading that there was something inappropriate between them⁠—

She couldn't let that happen.

Alba set down her spoon, even though she'd barely eaten half her porridge. "Excuse me," she said to no one in particular, and stood.

She left the hall quickly, ignoring the murmurs that followed her exit. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger, not at Lachlann, exactly, but at the situation. At the impossible position she'd been put in.

She'd barely made it halfway down the corridor when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Alba. Wait."

She stopped but didn't turn around. "What?"

Lachlann came around to face her, his expression concerned. "That seating, it wasnae intentional. The servants just assumed⁠—"

"I ken it wasnae planned," Alba interrupted, her voice sharper than she'd intended. "But that daesnae mean it was harmless, Lachlann."

"I dinnae understand what ye mean."

"People are talkin’!" The words burst out of her. "They're already wonderin’ why I'm here, why ye brought me all the way tae Barra instead of findin’ some other solution. And now I'm being seated beside ye at every meal like I'm—like we're⁠—"

She couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't voice what people might be thinking.

"I'll speak tae the servants," Lachlann said immediately. "Make it clear that ye should be seated elsewhere."

"That'll just make it worse. Make it look like somethin’ happened that ye're tryin’ tae hide." Alba pressed her fingers to her temples, feeling the headache returning. "At the ball, half the Highland lords saw ye intervene with Torquil. Saw us dance. And now I'm here, in yer castle, eatin’ at yer table. Dae ye nae see how this looks?"

Lachlann's jaw tightened. "Ye're here because ye needed protection. Because I'm honorin’ me obligation tae yer braither. Anyone who thinks otherwise⁠—"

"Will talk anyway. That's what people dae." Alba finally looked up at him, and the concern in his grey eyes made her chest ache. "I'm worried about me reputation, Lachlann. About what this will mean when I return home. Calum will defend me, I ken that, but the whispers... they dinnae just go away."

Silence fell between them. Lachlann stood very still, his hands clenched at his sides like he wanted to reach for her but was holding himself back.

"I'll fix this," he said finally. "I'll make sure the seatin’ arrangements change. I'll... I'll keep me distance. At meals, around the castle. Whatever ye need tae feel comfortable."

The thought of him keeping his distance made something twist painfully in Alba's chest, but she forced herself to nod. "Thank ye."

"Alba—"

"I should go." She turned away before he could say anything else. "I'll see ye at dinner. Or... maybe I'll take me meals in me chamber fer a while. Until things settle."

She left him standing alone in the corridor and returned to her chamber, closing the door firmly behind her.

Then she sat on the edge of her bed and dropped her face into her hands, fighting back tears of frustration and confusion and something else she refused to name.