Page 61 of A Highland Bride Disciplined

“Where’s Effie or Morag?” It wasn’t a challenge exactly, but it landed like one. His brow ticked, but he didn’t block her path.

“I daenae ken. I’ve been in here with ye.”

The sound pulled at her the whole way to the door, her pace quickening with each cry. She could still feel the lingering weight of Kian’s gaze between her shoulder blades.

I’m comin’ Elise.

Scarlett strode into the hall, her slippers whispering against the flagstones, the echo of Elise’s cries guiding her like a thread. She wasn’t running from Kian.

Or was she?

11

Alone. Again.

Kian’s knuckles whitened as he stared down the empty chair across from him.

He had waited nearly a full half hour. The servants, well-trained enough to say nothing, had begun clearing away the soup course without a single glance in his direction.

He was Laird of this keep, for God’s sake. The least his wife could do was join him for a meal.

Irritation simmered low and steady. Still, he picked up his knife and ate the roast, every bite chewed with the deliberate patience of a man refusing to be baited. He finished the greens. Took a long swallow of whiskey. If she thought she could rattle him by ignoring the dinner table, she’d find out how stubborn a Murray could be.

When the plates were cleared, he told the kitchen staff to bring him a tray. Not for himself. Forher.

If Scarlett was too busy, or too stubborn, to come down, then she’d eat in her chamber. But she’d bloody well eat.

He loaded the tray himself, ignoring the startled looks from the serving girls. Bread, cheese, the better half of the roast, a small bowl of greens, a cup of broth.

“Let her try to claim I hadnae fed her… maker her choke on the lie…” he grumbled, clattering utensils on the tray, and a cloth napkin.

By the time he climbed the winding stair, the handle of the tray pressing a dent into his palm, his mood was sharp enough to cut glass. He knocked once at her chamber door.

No answer.

When he pushed it open, the firelight washed over the scene. Scarlett lay curled, one arm wrapped tight around the bundle, as if she meant to guard it even in her sleep. Elise, nestled into the crook of her arm, her tiny chest rising and falling with soft, even breaths.

Kian set the tray down on a table without a sound. He’d meant only to wake Scarlett and tell her to eat. Instead, his gaze went to the bairn.

She shouldnae be sleeping in the bed.She’d roll right off one night in her exhaustion, and take the bairn with her.

He leaned down and, with more care than he’d ever afforded anything, slid his hands under the blanket and lifted Elise.

She woke instantly.

At first, her eyes widened, blinking up at him. There was a slight twitch in her cheek next, and her little bottom lip started quivering. Then her eyes slammed shut, and her chest began to heave like a bellows. She made a perfect ‘O’ with her mouth fully agape. The soundlessness was unnerving.

Kian’s own breath snagged.What the —

Then she dragged in a desperate, rattling gulp of air. Then two. Then three. Her tiny ribcage shuddering against his forearm. He’d never seen such a small body strain so hard just to breathe. Panic flickered hot and sudden in his chest.

“All right, lass, steady on —”

His eye flitted over to Scarlett who hadn’t moved an inch, and he rolled his eyes.To think the lass could be hurt or somethin’…

The scream came then. It was shrill and piercing enough to rattle the glass in the windows. He flinched instinctively and clamped her closer, his palm cradling the back of her head as he buried her face against his tunic to muffle the noise.

She didn’t like that either. She twisted and writhed weakly against him, her cries turning ragged and furious. He tried bouncing her, the awkward, uneven sway he’d seen Scarlett do, but it was like trying to soothe a thunderstorm with a spoon.