Page 87 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

A soft sound from the doorway made him pause.

Lachlann's gaze flicked up and caught movement in the shadows just outside the war room. A flash of dark hair. The hem of a dress disappearing behind the door frame.

Alba.

His mouth twitched despite the seriousness of the conversation. Of course she was listening. The woman had been spying on him and Calum since she was sixteen, why would she stop now?

"Me laird?" Malcolm prompted.

Lachlann pulled his attention back to the map. "Right. As I was sayin'—forest patrols, teams of two, checkin' every path. And I want reports brought tae me personally at dawn and dusk. Any changes, any unusual activity, I need tae ken about it immediately."

"What about supply lines?" another soldier asked. "If we're spreadin' out this far, we'll need more provisions fer the men on extended patrol."

"Good point." Lachlann marked several locations. "Set up supply caches here and here. Enough fer three days at minimum. Dried meat, water, basic medical supplies. And make sure every patrol kens where they are."

James leaned over the map, frowning at one of the northern positions. "This route here, it's rough terrain. Hard tae patrol quickly."

"Then we give it tae our best climbers. Men who can navigate the rocks without slowin' down." Lachlann's finger tapped the spot. "Speed matters less than thorough coverage. I'd rather have a slower patrol that actually sees what's there than a fast one that misses half the threats."

The meeting continued, questions and answers flowing back and forth as they refined the strategy.

Lachlann noticed the shadow in the doorway shift occasionally, Alba moving to get a better view, or maybe just restless from standing still too long.

He should probably send her away. They were discussing military business, not appropriate for a lady to be listening in on.

But the thought of her interest, of her caring enough to spy, made warmth bloom in his chest despite everything.

"What about communication between patrols?" Malcolm asked. "If one team spots somethin', how dae they alert the others quickly?"

"Signal fires at each watch point." Lachlann drew circles at strategic locations. "One fire means all clear. Two means possible threat. Three means immediate danger. And every patrol carries a horn fer emergencies."

"Understood, me laird," the soldier said.

Lachlann studied the map one final time, checking for any gaps in coverage, any weaknesses Torquil might exploit. Satisfied, he straightened.

"That's all fer now. Get the patrols organized and ready tae deploy by this afternoon. Malcolm, ye're in charge of the northern routes. Finn, ye take the southern coast. And I want hourly check-ins from all positions fer the first day until we're certain the system works."

"Aye, me laird."

The soldiers began filing out, their expressions determined despite the increased workload Lachlann had just assigned them. James lingered, waiting until they were alone before speaking.

"Ye're spreadin' them pretty thin," he said quietly. "If Torquil decides tae hit us with a real force⁠—"

"Then we pull everyone back tae the castle and make our stand here." Lachlann rolled up the map. "But I'd rather have warnin' of an attack comin' than be caught surprised."

"Fair enough." James glanced toward the doorway where the shadow had been. "Ye ken ye have an audience, aye?"

"I ken."

"And ye're just... lettin' her listen?"

"She's nae exactly hidin' well." Lachlann's mouth curved slightly. "And besides, she has a right tae ken what we're daein' tae keep her safe."

James's eyebrow rose. "That why ye're daein' all this? Fer her?"

"I'm daein' this fer everyone in this castle." But even as Lachlann said it, he knew it wasn't entirely true.

Yes, he wanted his people safe. But the driving force behind every decision, every patrol route, every precaution, was the memory of Alba's limp body in that kidnapper's arms.