Page 48 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

He looked down at the second letter. Alba's letter.

He would give it to her right away, so she could read Calum's reassurances privately.

His feet carried him through the corridors toward her chamber before he could talk himself out of it.

He knocked. Waited.

Alba opened the door, and the careful neutrality on her face crumbled when she saw what he held.

"Is that⁠—"

"From Calum. Fer ye." Lachlann held out the letter.

Alba took it with trembling fingers, her eyes scanning the address. "Did ye—dae ye ken what it says?"

"Nay. But I got one too. He's... he's heard about Torquil's claims. He says ye were betrothed tae him. That I stole ye."

Alba's face went pale. "What?"

"Read yer letter. Calum will explain better than I can."

She broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. Lachlann watched her eyes move across the words, saw her expression shift from shock to relief to something that looked like determination.

"He says..." Alba's voice was thick. "He says I'm safe with ye. That he trusts ye completely. That Torquil's lies willnae stand because the truth will come out eventually."

"Aye."

"He says..." She looked up at Lachlann, her sea-blue eyes bright with unshed tears. "He says he's sorry he wasnae there tae protect me himself. That he's grateful ye were."

Something in Lachlann's chest loosened at her words. Calum trusted him. Still considered him a brother despite everything.

"Ye got yer wish," he said, the words coming out before he could stop them. "Being with Calum's friends. Being part of the adventures instead of being left behind."

Alba's cheeks flushed. "Dinnae speak of that night in the kitchen."

"Why nae?"

"Because..." She clutched the letter tighter. "Because Calum wouldnae approve of us being this close, of me being here, in yer castle, in yer care, if he kent what happened then or last night⁠—"

"Naethin’ happened last night," Lachlann interrupted, but his voice lacked conviction.

Alba shook her head. "It daesnae matter. What matters is that ye're me braither's best friend. And I'm his sister. And there are lines we cannae cross."

"What if I told ye that despite everything, despite duty and propriety and all the reasons this is impossible—I dinnae want tae be far from ye, Alba."

Alba's breath caught. "Lachlann⁠—"

"I'm nae askin' fer anything. I'm just tellin’ ye the truth. Because ye deserve that much."

"Be careful what ye say," Alba whispered, her eyes wide. "Because if ye say these things, ye need tae mean them. Ye need tae be certain."

"I am certain."

He moved closer but stopped himself.

Because what could he say? That he couldn't court her properly? Couldn't ask for Calum's blessing when Calum was trapped in England? Couldn't give her the future she deserved because of politics and timing and Torquil's schemes?

Alba looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face like she was trying to memorize every feature. Then she stepped back, putting distance between them.