Page 101 of A Highland Bride Disciplined
Scarlett’s heart gave a traitorous lurch. She forced a smirk, trying to cover it. “And here I thought ye had nay talent for surprises.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. It was more a shadow of a smile than the thing itself, and he crouched to open the basket. Inside lay sweet bannocks wrapped in cloth, a wheel of soft cheese, apples polished near to shining, and a flask of whisky that caught the moonlight on its rim. He poured her a measure first, then one for himself.
They sat side by side, the loch rippling faintly with the night breeze. Scarlett let the whisky burn her throat, though her eyes strayed again and again to the man beside her.
It was contrary, she knew, to let herself soften. But the effort he’d made, the thought behind it. She couldn’t deny that it settled something in her, at least for the moment.
“Effie will manage Elise?” she asked, unable to stop herself.
“She’ll manage,” Kian said, firm. “And if she doesnae, Morag’s shadow looms large enough to keep her on task.”
Scarlett huffed a laugh, imagining the indomitable housekeeper glaring over Effie’s shoulder. Still, her fingers curled into the wool of her skirts. She hated how her body longed for the baby, even when Elise wasn’t in her arms.
Kian poured another measure. His gaze fixed on the loch. For a long time, silence stretched between them. Not uncomfortable, not entirely, but charged with something Scarlett couldn’t name.
Then he spoke. “I brought ye here because I needed to say somethin’.”
Scarlett stiffened, setting her cup aside. “What sort of somethin’?”
“About me. About… us.”
Her stomach twisted. She thought of Nieve’s letter, of Elise’s soft weight in her arms, of all the things left unsaid between them. “Go on, then.”
Kian didn’t look at her at first. His eyes stayed on the loch, his jaw working as though he were chewing through iron. “When I was a lad, after my father drank away near everything we had, I swore I’d never let another man’s weakness destroy this clan. I rebuilt Crawford with my own hands, with Tam at my side. I learned to plan, to command, to control every breath, every grain, every sword arm.”
Scarlett said nothing. She only listened, her chest tight.
He finally turned to her, eyes dark as the waters behind him. “Control became everythin’. It had to be. But ye…” He gave a short, sharp laugh, almost bitter. “Ye break that control wit’ every word out of yer mouth. Every look. Every bloody step ye take. And I’ve tried, God help me, I’ve tried to bend ye to it. To bend Elise to it. But I cannae.”
Scarlett’s lips parted. She hadn’t expected this raw honesty, this unguarded edge to his voice.
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I daenae want to. Nae anymore. The babe’s nae mine by blood, but she’s mine all the same. Ours. And I’ll keep my word, Scarlett. We’ll raise her. Together.”
Scarlett’s throat burned. She wanted to speak, to say something sharp or witty to cut the intensity, but no words came. Allshe could do was sit there, staring at the man who’d once been nothing but duty and command, now confessing what felt dangerously close to surrender.
She pressed her palms against her skirts, grounding herself. “Ye mean it,” she whispered.
Kian’s gaze snapped to hers. “Aye.”
The silence that followed felt heavier than anything before, but not crushing. Almost… liberating. Scarlett let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“I thought,” she said carefully, “that ye’d always resent her. Resent me, for takin’ her in.”
His brow furrowed. “Is that what ye think of me?”
Scarlett’s cheeks warmed. She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Her silence was enough.
Kian reached for the flask, took a long drink, then set it aside with more force than necessary. “I’ll nae lie, Scarlett. At first I did. I saw her as another weakness, another danger. A target painted on me wife’s back. Onmeback. But I was wrong.”
Scarlett’s heart fluttered at the wordwifeon his lips, spoken not as a duty but as something heavier, something intimate.
He leaned back on one hand. His gaze still locked to hers. “She’s part of us now. And I’ll nae let her go. Nae to anyone.”
Scarlett swallowed hard, the loch shimmering in her blurred vision. She blinked rapidly, refusing to let tears fall here, in front of him. “Ye surprise me, Kian Murray.”
His mouth curved again, that almost-smile. “A rare thing, I suppose.”
Scarlett gave a weak laugh, shaking her head. She looked out over the loch, the stars doubled in its surface. For the first time since finding out about Nieve’s death, since that terrible letter, she felt the faint stirrings of something other than guilt and grief. Something fragile, but undeniably warm.
