Page 23 of The Laird’s Sinful Secret

Keith returned to his desk, the satisfaction of Euan’s rebuke still warming his chest. He pulled out fresh parchment—his second correspondence of the morning. This one, however, required a subtler hand. No righteous anger here, only careful misdirection. His quill hovered over the page as he chose each word carefully.

Keith sealed the second letter—this one to Sir Geoffrey at Norham. A shame, really. The English commander had been efficient and discreet.

But loose ends had a way of unraveling plans. Better to cut them cleanly.

He moved to his window again, watching the sun set over MacKenzie lands that would soon—must soon—expand to include everything the MacLeods held. His marriage to Ishbel was just the beginning. With pressure applied in the right places, support gathered from the right allies, and Moyra conveniently removed from interfering...

Everything he’d worked for was within reach.

Let Euan MacLeod play the noble hero, rescuing damsels and making demands. Keith would play a longer game. A smarter game.

And in the end, he would take everything the MacLeods possessed, piece by piece, until nothing remained but his own expanded territory and the bitter memory of a clan that had dared stand in his way.

The thought warmed him more than any fire could.

In the courtyard below, his messenger mounted a fresh horse and galloped toward Dunvegan, carrying words that would shatter whatever hope Moyra MacKenzie still harbored about her father’s love.

Keith smiled.

Sometimes cruelty wasn’t just effective—it was necessary.

And he’d learned long ago to do whatever was necessary to get what he wanted.