Child.
Scarlett’s arms wrapped around her middle, holding in the tremble. “She ishisblood, Kian. What if we’ve stolen what was never meant for us?”
He strode toward her, not with anger this time but with something sharper, something that cut right to her chest. “Listen to me. Blood isnae all that makes a family. That man —” he jerked his head toward the door, “— cares for naught but power. Nieve kent it. That’s why she left the bairn with us.”
Scarlett looked down, shame burning her cheeks. “But what if ye’re wrong? What if I cannae raise her as she deserves? What if she’s better of with him?”
Kian reached her then, his hand catching her chin, tilting her face up until her eyes met his. His touch was firm but not unkind. “Ye’ve done it already, Scarlett. Every feed, every cry, every sleepless night — ye’ve carried her through it. Daenaespeak to me of doubt when I’ve watched ye prove yerself day after day. He could never.”
Her breath hitched. “We have nay right to that child, Kian! She is his, by birth right, by blood, by law.”
Kian rounded on her, voice low, unwavering. “He’ll nae take her from us. Nae while I draw breath.”
The words slammed into her chest like a vow spoken before an altar. Her knees wobbled, her throat tight with unshed tears.
Scarlett angled for a fight, but he lifted a hand halting her reply. “It’s done, Scarlett. Ye should go.”
The last words doused her skin like a molten fire, as if she had just been scolded and shamed. Tears tore through the dam she had tried to build. She felt utterly alone.
22
The study smelled of smoke and ink, both of which clung to Kian’s tunic as he leaned over the desk. The candle had burned so low the wax threatened to swallow its flame, but still he worked, scratching notes and orders until the words blurred.
That morning Kian had ordered Tam to shadow the McTavish pup. “Follow his trail discreetly. Find out what game he was playing,” he said simply, without any need for providing a backstory, and Tam had gone with a grim nod.
Kian spent the long hours since buried in preparations for battle. Provisions were inventoried, walls checked and reinforced, guards posted thicker along the southern edge.
A knock at the door pulled his tired gaze from the parchments, and Tam slipped back into the study. Kian rubbed at his temple and nodded, expecting a laconic report. But Tam’s single visible eye was sharp, alert.
“Well?”
Tam shut the door behind him, quiet as a thief. “Roderick’s gatherin’ men, Kian.”
The words struck like a hammer blow.
Kian straightened, exhaustion forgotten. “How many?”
“Near forty, maybe more by the time they ride. And he’s promised them Crawford blood for their loyalty.”
“His faither cannae truly ken the reason —” Kian cut himself off realizing Tam too had not been made aware. “He’s comin’ for Elise. Says the bairn is his.”
“Is she?”
“Is she what?”
“Is she his?” Tam asked smoothly.
“The McTavish pup is kent throughout the Highlands for his… ambition. I caught him in Scarlett’s room. About to take the bairn like a thief in the night.”
“In Scarlett’s chambers? The audacity!”
“Aye, thankfully she and I were… on our way there. I fear what might have come to pass had she been in there alone.”
“What proof did he have to claim Elise?”
“Just some perfectly webbed tale of the bairn’s maither. Scarlett, of course, isnae convinced.”
“Well, he’s nae just gathered his own men for his cause. His faither’s guard has joined him. They mean to approach with a show of force.”