Page 33 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I dinnae mean tae take it out on ye."

"It's all right." Orla came to sit beside her. "Ye've had a difficult few days."

"It's nae just that." Alba rubbed her temples. "It's everythin'. Being here, being away from home, havin’ tae rely on Lachlann's protection when I should be handlin' things meself."

"Ye're nae a burden," Orla said firmly. "And from what I've seen, the laird daesnae think so either."

Alba's hands dropped. "What dae ye mean?"

"Just that... he seems very concerned about yer comfort. That stew last night, he specifically requested it. And this mornin', when ye left the hall, he followed almost immediately."

"He's just being dutiful. Honorin' his obligation tae Calum."

"Is that what ye think?" Orla's tone suggested she didn't quite believe it.

Alba stood and went to the window. "It daesnae matter what I think. What matters is what people will say."

"About ye and the laird?"

"Aye."

"Why? Is somethin' happenin' between ye?"

"Nay! Of course nae. He's me braither's best friend." Alba's cheeks flushed. "Anything between us would be impossible."

The quiet statement hung in the air.

Orla studied her for a long moment. "Me lady, fergive me fer speakin' plainly, but... ye mention the laird an awful lot fer someone who claims tae have nay feelings for him."

Alba's face went hot. "I—that's nae true. Maybe when I was younger, I... I might have had a bit of a crush on him," Alba whispered, sinking back onto the bed. "But that was years ago."

"And yet ye still feel somethin' fer him."

"It daesnae matter if I dae. Naething can come of it." Alba's voice was flat. "I willnae destroy their friendship."

Orla was quiet for a moment. "Have ye asked him? About how he feels?"

"Nay! That would be ridiculous."

"If ye say so, me lady."

The doubt in Orla's voice made Alba want to scream.

"I need tae clear me head," she said finally. "This conversation is going in circles."

"The gardens might help," Orla suggested gently.

"Aye." Alba grabbed her shawl. "I think I need some time alone."

"Of course, me lady. Take all the time ye need."

CHAPTER TEN

"Ye're supposed tae sit when I tell ye tae sit, nae when ye feel like it."

Alba paused at the entrance to the garden, her hand still on the gate. She'd expected solitude, needed it after the morning's disaster and Orla's too-perceptive observations. But Lachlann's voice carried across the garden, exasperated but fond, and curiosity made her stop.

She stepped through the gate quietly, keeping to the shadows of the wall. There, in the center of the garden near the herb beds, Lachlann stood with three large hunting dogs circling him. A falcon perched on a wooden stand nearby, its golden eyes watching the proceedings with what looked like amusement.