Page 52 of A Highland Bride Disciplined

“Oh, now ye’re givin’ orders again?”

His smirk returned. “Ye’re already late. Daenae make me come back in there.”

Scarlett snorted and disappeared into her changing room, but the warmth on her cheeks hadn’t left.

Outside, she could hear his boots tapping quietly against the stone floor. Waiting.

He reallywasa storm of contradictions. Harsh one minute, gentle the next. Making her laugh. Making her want to throw something at his stupid, smug face.

She hurried into a fresh gown and tied her hair back. Her mind was already racing ahead to what the dinner would hold.

If it was another one of his interrogations, she might stab him with a spoon.

But if he kept looking at her like he had earlier, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle her or kiss her again, well, then she might let him try.

She stepped back into the room and found him waiting still. His arms were folded, his broad frame backlit by the hallway torches.

He glanced up at her approach.

“Ready?” he asked.

Scarlett tilted her chin. “Born ready.”

“Let’s see if that’s true.” He held out an arm, surprisingly formal.

She considered ignoring it. But something about the way he waited, a man raised on honor, made her reach out and take it after all.

And with that, they walked together toward dinner.

The private dining hall was quieter than Scarlett expected. Just the hush of candle flames, the scrape of porcelain, and the distant sound of the keep settling for the night.

Kian held the door open for her like a proper gentleman, though his eyes were still too sharp for comfort. Always watching. Always measuring.

She took her seat anyway.

Two covered dishes awaited them on the long table which had been kept warm through the delay. Scarlett smoothed her skirts as Kian took the seat opposite her.

The silence stretched like drawn string between them.

It was Kian who broke it. “I asked Morag to prepare something simpler tonight. I dinnae want to waste a full feast if ye were goin’ to disappear again.”

Scarlett narrowed her eyes. “I was waitin’ on Effie. That wasn’t disappearin’. That was out of me hands.”

He huffed. “Ye’re always ready with an excuse.”

“And ye’re always ready with a lecture. That’s the difference between us.”

A servant entered to uncover the food, setting out wine and fresh bread, then vanished as quickly as she came. Scarlett eyed the spread. Tonight it was a roast fowl, fresh greens, warm turnip mash, and a tart that looked shockingly good for something baked without her supervision.

They began eating in silence, but it didn’t last.

Kian surprised her. “Tell me what ye were like as a child?”

Scarlett looked up, blinking. “What?”

“Ye heard me.”

She hesitated, chewing slowly. “Bossy.”