Page 47 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

She hurried away toward the keep, and Lachlann watched her go, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Ye're an idiot," James said cheerfully, appearing at his elbow.

"I ken."

"Whatever happened last night⁠—"

"Naethin’ happened last night."

"Right. Naethin’." James's tone made it clear he didn't believe that for a second. "Which is why ye both look like ye've been gut-punched and can barely stand tae look at each other."

Lachlann turned to glare at his friend. "Drop it, James."

"Just saying. Whatever this is between ye two, ye're going tae have tae deal with it eventually. Ignorin' it isnae workin’."

Before Lachlann could respond, one of the gate guards called out. "Me laird! Messenger just arrived. Says he's got urgent letters from England."

Lachlann's stomach dropped.

England.

Calum.

He strode toward the castle, James following. The messenger waited in the courtyard, travel-stained and weary. He bowed as Lachlann approached.

"Messages from Laird Calum MacKinnon, me laird. He said they were urgent."

Lachlann took the sealed letters, two of them.

One thick and addressed to him in Calum's bold script. The other thinner, with "Alba MacKinnon" written in a hand that seemed less steady.

"Thank ye. Get yerself to the kitchens. Tell Cook I said tae feed ye and find ye a bed."

The messenger bowed again and left. Lachlann stared down at the letters in his hands, dread coiling in his gut.

"Want me tae stay?" James asked quietly.

"Nay. I'll read it alone."

He made his way to his office and closed the door firmly. Then, with hands that weren't quite steady, he broke the seal on his letter and began to read.

Lachlann,

I received yer message about Alba. Thank ye fer keeping her safe. I ken ye'll protect her with yer life, and that gives me some peace while I'm trapped here in these interminable negotiations.

However, I need tae warn ye about a complication. Torquil MacLean has sent word tae several clans—including tae contacts here in England—claiming that Alba was betrothed tae him. He's saying that ye stole her after the ball, that the attack on her carriage was fabricated tae cover the abduction.

It's complete shite, of course. But with me away and nae immediate proof tae contradict his claims, the story is spreading. Some are believing it. Some are just using it as an excuse tae stir trouble.

I've written tae Alba separately tae assure her she's safe with ye. But Lachlann, ye need tae be careful. If Torquil pushes this hard enough, if he gets the king's ear, this could turn intae something bigger than a simple dispute.

Guard her well, braither. And write tae me immediately if anything changes.

Calum

Lachlann read the letter twice, his jaw clenching harder with each pass. Torquil was claiming Alba had been betrothed to him and was painting Lachlann as the villain in this story.

And without Calum there tae refute it, without proof of what had really happened that night...