Page 37 of A Highland Bride Disciplined

She adjusted the tie of her robe and smoothed her palm down the fabric like she needed the movement to remind herself of where she stood.

“I’m goin’ to bed,” she said simply.

Kian didn’t answer. He couldn’t trust himself to.

Scarlett turned toward the door, her steps quiet, sure. At the threshold, she paused, but didn’t look back.

“I’ll leave the fire for ye,” she said. “In case ye find yerself wakin’ again.”

And then she was gone.

Kian stood alone in the nursery, the fire crackling low, the cradle creaking softly as Elise shifted in her sleep.

He stared at the spot where Scarlett had stood, her warmth still lingering in the air and clinging to his lungs like smoke.

He exhaled.

Long. Slow.

“Leave the fire in here, or…” he muttered.

He didn’t have the answer. Only the echo of her voice in his head, and the soft imprint of her almost-kiss still tingling at the edge of his mouth.

7

Kian stabbed a piece of ham with more force than necessary. The crunch of the crust echoed across the long hall, which, to his growing irritation, remained empty but for himself.

He hadn’t said it aloud, but he’d expected and assumed that Scarlett would join him for breakfast. Especially after the night they’d shared, or at least nearly shared. The memory of her lips, to close to his own, made his core tighten.

And yet, as the hour stretched on, no fiery-haired wife appeared at the high table. Only a servant girl, stammering as she refreshed his tea, dared approach him.

“Where is Lady Crawford?” he asked without looking up.

The girl shifted. “She’s… um, she’s with the bairn, m’laird.”

Kian’s fork froze mid-air.

“With the bairn,” he repeated flatly.

The maid nodded, quickly bobbed a curtsy, and scurried away.

He chewed slowly, methodically. With each bite, his mood worsened. He tried to push her absence from his mind, but it clung to him like damp fog.

He finished the meal in silence.

Lunch passed the same. No Scarlett.

Dinner was same. Again.

Kian sat alone at the head of the long dining table while servants quietly placed the dishes before him and cleared them away. He barely touched the food. Each empty chair around him screamed a silent accusation, and the one meant for Scarlett hollered the loudest.

By nightfall, he was done waiting.

He strode through the keep with long, purposeful steps, boots echoing off the stone floor. A boy nearly dropped a basket of turnips when he passed. Tam spotted him from the corridor and wisely turned the other way.

Kian didn’t bother knocking.

He pushed the door to her chambers open with one hand and stepped into the candle-lit room without ceremony.