Page 39 of A Highland Bride Disciplined

Kian turned back, eyes on Scarlett.

She crossed her arms. “What now?”

“Ye’re coming with me.”

She raised a brow. “Am I?”

“Aye.”

“I’m nae in the mood for demands.”

“And I’m nae in the mood to argue, but here we are,” he said. “Ye’ve gone at least three meals without sittin’ at a table. That’s nae independence, Scarlett, it’s foolishness.”

“And draggin’ me off like a sack of grain is kindness?”

He stepped closer, voice lowering. “It’s concern.”

Her mouth parted, caught somewhere between surprise and a retort.

He reached out and took her hand.

She looked down at where their fingers met, then up at him again, eyes wary.

“I’m nae askin’,” he said quietly. “I’ll throw ye over me shoulder, and then ye’llreallyfeel like a sack of grain.”

Scarlett stared at him for a moment longer… and then sighed.

“I hate ye,” she muttered under her breath.

Kian’s lips twitched. “Ye’re still comin’.”

They walked in silence through the corridors. Her hand in his. Her steps slower than usual, but steady.

As they reached the kitchens, Morag bustled out from the pantry, arms full of bread rolls.

Kian paused. “Mrs. Morag.”

Morag blinked at the sight of them, then raised a brow. “M’laird?”

“Tell the cook that Lady Crawford requires a hot meal. Immediately. Whatever’s left from supper.”

Morag glanced at Scarlett, who looked equal parts annoyed and sheepish. But she nodded briskly.

“Right away, m’laird.”

As the housekeeper disappeared with purpose, Kian led Scarlett into the small dining alcove beside the kitchen hearth.

She sat stiffly, glaring at him.

“I daenae need yer pity,” she said.

“This isnae pity. It’s food.”

He poured her a glass of water. “Now. Drink.”

She didn’t move.

“Scarlett,” he added. “Ye look like a dead bush in a desert… Please?”