Page 71 of A Highland Bride Disciplined
Her lips twitched, like she might have been about to make a quip, but she settled for, “I’ve more, aye. But those are the most pressing if ye want the festival to run without a hitch.”
“And ye’ve told the villagers ye’d speak to me?”
She met his gaze without hesitation. “Aye. Every one of them.”
“Good,” Kian said finally, the word slow, deliberate. “Then they’ll get their answers fromme.”
Scarlett inclined her head. “That’s the plan.”
Tam coughed discreetly. “Do ye want me to fetch the guards in now for the reply, or…?”
Kian shook his head. “Nae yet. We’ll go through this list together first. Might as well take care of it all at once.”
Scarlett crossed to the edge of his desk and placed her hands on the polished wood, leaning forward just slightly. “Then let’s get to it.”
There was something in the way she looked at him just then that sent a spark down his spine. It was like she was daring him, but also not.
Tam’s presence kept him from answering that look the way he wanted to, so he reached for the folded parchment she’d given him yesterday instead.
“All right,” he said, flipping it open. “Ye want the bonfire moved twenty feet north. Tam, how quickly can the men do it?”
“Two hours’ work in the morning,” Tam replied without looking up from his scratch notes. “Less if the ground’s not frozen too deep.”
“Do it,” Kian said, and made a mark beside the note. “The pen for the blacksmith’s pig. Let’s get Cam involved with it before the beast ends up roasting itself before the feast.”
Scarlett’s mouth curved. “He’s a fine pig. Would be a shame to lose him to poor planning.”
Kian gave her a look, half warning, half amused. “Ale vendors?”
She leaned her hip against the desk. “Move them nearer the bread carts, aye. I ken ye already told Tam that yesterday, but now I’m telling ye it’s even more necessary.”
Tam snorted softly and kept writing.
Kian tilted his head toward her. “And the musicians’ platform?”
Scarlett straightened. “It will keep their instruments from warping if the ground’s damp. And they’ll be visible. Folk gather where they can see.”
Kian considered her for a long moment, then nodded. “Fine. Tam, have it built before noon.”
There was a strange quiet after that. Tam scratched a last note, Scarlett watched Kian with a glimmer of satisfaction, and Kian sat there, feeling the heat from the fire and the weight of her gaze both pressing at him in equal measure.
Kian set the parchment down, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “That’s everything?”
Scarlett tipped her head. “For now.”
The tone was mild, but he could hear the undercurrent in it—she still had more in her head, and if she wanted to press, she would. He studied her a moment longer, looking for that familiar spark of defiance, but what he found instead was something quieter.Consideration. She wasn’t here to wrestle control from him, not tonight.
Tam cleared his throat, shifting the parchment in his hands. “We can have all these adjustments done by midday tomorrow, if the weather holds. I’ll check the sky in the morning.”
“Do it,” Kian said. “And make sure the carpenters start with that pig pen first. I daenae want to hear squealin’ halfway through the opening speech.”
Scarlett’s lips twitched. “Would certainly liven things up.”
Kian shot her a look. “Not the kind of liveliness I’m after.”
She didn’t argue—just gave a small, conceding smile. That, more than anything, caught him off guard.
Tam tapped the paper with his thumb. “The bread cart vendors are going to gripe about the ale being so close to them. Ye ken how they are—bread prices rise faster when they think ale’s making folk hungrier.”
