Page 79 of The Laird’s Sinful Secret

Euan defending her. Refusing to send her back despite the cost.

Guilt crashed through her with physical force. Three families dead. A village in ashes. All because she existed within those walls.

She should leave. Should walk away from Dunvegan and whatever complicated feelings had tangled between her and Euan MacLeod. Should remove herself from the equation before more innocents paid for Keith MacKenzie’s ambitions.

But the thought of returning to her father⁠—

The door opened. Euan emerged, his scarred face drawn with exhaustion and fury in equal measure. He stopped short when he saw her, grey eyes widening.

“Moyra.” Her name came out rough. “How long have ye been standing there?”

“Long enough.” She lifted her chin, refusing to let guilt bow her spine. “Long enough tae ken that keeping me here is costing lives.”

“Ye heard.”

“Aye. And Archibald’s right, isn’t he? Those people died because of me. Because me faither’s using me presence here as justification.”

“Nay.” Euan closed the distance between them in three strides, his hands finding her shoulders. “Those people died because Keith MacKenzie is a monster willing to murder innocents to get what he wants. That’s nae yer fault, Moyra. That’s his.”

“But if I weren’t here⁠—”

“He’d find another reason.” The certainty in his voice made her chest ache. “Another excuse to attack, another angle to press his claims. Sending ye back solves nothing except putting ye in danger.”

“And keeping me here puts yer people in danger.” She met his gaze steadily despite how her pulse raced at his proximity. “How many more tae to die afore ye admit I’m the problem?”

His jaw clenched. “Ye’re nae the problem. Keith is. And I’ll nae solve that by sacrificing ye tae make things easier.”

“Even if it costs everything?” Her voice wavered despite her best efforts. “Even if he burns every village, kills every family? How many deaths afore me life stops being worth the cost?”

“That’s nae a choice I’m willing tae make.” His hands tightened on her shoulders, not painfully but insistently. “And it’s nae one ye should have tae consider. Ye’re safe here, Moyra. I’ll nae let him hurt ye.”

“But he’s already hurting people.” Tears burned behind her eyes, hot and unwelcome. “He’s already destroying lives, and it’s all because⁠—”

Shouts erupted from below. Running footsteps. The organized chaos of a crisis unfolding.

Euan’s head snapped toward the sound, warrior instincts overriding everything else. She followed him down the stairs, her shorter legs struggling to match his long strides.

The great hall had transformed into controlled chaos. Displaced villagers filled every available space—families huddled together, children crying, wounded men propped against walls while Brighde and her assistants moved between them with practiced efficiency.

But it was the women who caught Moyra’s attention. Or rather, their lack of organization. They clustered in small groups, uncertain, waiting for someone to tell them what to do. Waiting for orders that weren’t coming because every man was occupied with defense or injury.

Something clicked in her mind. This she could fix.

Moyra moved to the center of the hall, her voice cutting through the noise. “Listen! All women capable of working, gather round!”

Heads turned. Euan stopped mid-step, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“We need blankets fer the children,” Moyra continued, her voice carrying authority she hadn’t known she possessed. “Catriona, organize the maids—strip every spare bed in the castle if ye have tae. And we need food. Hot food, nae just bread. Cook, can yer kitchens handle feeding this many?”

The head cook stepped forward, a broad woman with flour-dusted hands. “Aye, me lady. If I have enough hands⁠—”

“Ye’ll have them.” Moyra pointed to a cluster of village women. “Any of ye who can work a kitchen, follow Cook. The rest of ye—we need this space organized. Families taegether, wounded near Brighde’s station, children in the warmest corner away from the drafts.”

Around her, women began moving. Purpose replaced uncertainty. The chaotic mass of refugees started taking shape into something manageable.

“And someone needs to check if there are more wounded coming,” Moyra added. “We should have supplies ready at the gates⁠—”

“I’ll see tae it.” Euan’s voice came from behind her, warm with something that made her chest tight. “What else dae ye need?”