Page 15 of A Highland Bride Disciplined

The housekeeper waved her hand wildly, still panting.

Effie’s eyes widened. “Is there a fire? Did I leave the bread too close to the hearth again? Ikentit smelled wrong.”

Scarlett glanced sharply at the woman’s face. Morag wasn’t angry. Not cross. She was startled. Frazzled. A sheen of sweat on her brow, mouth slightly trembling.

Scarlett touched her arm. “Morag?Breathe. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Christ above,Morag!” Effie started again, “Is someonedead?”

The older woman finally found her voice, breathless and clipped. “A maid. Kitchen girl. She came screamin’ into the hall nae five minutes past. Said there was a bundle… a bundle left at the front gate. Wrapped in a blanket. Cryin’.”

Scarlett’s blood ran cold.

“Abundle?” Effie asked, blinking. “Like… laundry?”

Mrs. Morag gave her a withering look. “Like ababy, ye foolish cow!”

Effie gasped. Scarlett’s heart stopped entirely for half a beat.

A baby?

Morag straightened and continued, hands moving as she talked. “I sent the girl straight to the healer wi’ the child. And I came runnin’ to tell ye.”

Scarlett didn’t wait another second.

She was already turning toward the east hall. Her skirts swirled as she broke into a run, heart thudding like a drumbeat in her chest.

Effie followed close behind, chest heaving. “A baby? But why would anyone —?”

Mrs. Morag puffed beside them. “Hush, ye uselessgirl!”she scolded.

“Hey!” Effie countered, but still fell silent as Morag continued.

“The wee bairn wasnae just left alone. There was a letter too.”

She said nothing. Her feet pounded the stone corridor, and her mind raced faster.

A child. Left at the keep. With a letter.

Scarlett wasn’t sure what scared her more… that someone would trust her with such a thing… or that, deep down, some part of herwantedto be worthy of it.

“Abairn,” Effie panted, trailing a step behind. “Could be a goat. Might be a trick. A changelin’, maybe even —”

“Effie,” Scarlett snapped, though not unkindly. “Now’s nae the time.”

They turned the corner toward the keep’s infirmary, skirts flying, Morag huffing and puffing behind them like a boiling kettle.

“Do ye think it’s hurt?” Effie asked. “The baby, I mean. Or starvin’? What if it’s twins? What if —”

“Effie!” Morag barked. “If ye keep askin’ questions instead o’ movin’ yer legs, I’ll see ye that ye are assigned to haul sheep dung for a month!”

That quieted her.

Scarlett’s heart hammered with every step. A new worry clawed at her ribs as her mind unraveled.

What if someone had given birth in secret? One of the village girls? A servant? Could it be abandoned? Left for me?

The thought tightened her chest like a corset cinched too far.