Page 74 of A Highland Bride Disciplined

She forced herself to focus as the baker’s wife brought her a sweet bannock, its crust golden and dusted with sugar. “For ye, m’lady. Some fresh from the griddle.”

Scarlett accepted it with a smile, but her stomach twisted instead of growling. She thanked the woman and moved on, the music of a fiddle and drum pulling her toward the main square.

Why was this affecting me so much?

From the top of the small rise, she could see the whole festival spread below like a tapestry. Rows of booths and banners inCrawford blue snapped in the brisk wind. The pen for the sheepdog trials was already crowded with spectators, children perched on their fathers’ shoulders. At the far end, a line had formed for the archery competition, bows glinting in the sunlight.

Scarlett drew a long breath and tried to let the sight of her people and their easy camaraderie, and push away the worry.

It worked for a moment. Then she pictured the empty cradle upstairs and the ache settled in again.

Shite.

Then she felt his eyes on her. The sensation was warm, heavy, like the brush of a hand at her back. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

“Ye look like ye’ve been made to swallow vinegar,” Kian’s voice drawled from just behind her shoulder.

Scarlett glanced sideways, keeping her chin up. “I’m enjoying myself.”

He arched a brow. “Aye. Ye’re standin’ here starin’ at folk like they’ve offended ye by breathin’. That’s the very picture of enjoyment.”

Her lips twitched despite herself. “I’m takin’ it all in. All our hard work.”

“Mm.” He came to stand beside her, broad shoulders blocking some of the wind, his gaze sweeping the festival with a quick, assessing pass.

She folded her arms. “If ye’ve come to critique me posture, I’m afraid I left me curtsey lessons at home.”

Kian’s mouth tugged at one corner in a smile. “Noticed ye’ve been wearin’ that same furrow in yer brow all day.”

Scarlett looked away, out over the green. “It’s nothin’.”

“Is it.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

She hesitated. “Fine.It’s Elise.”

At that, his head turned sharply toward her. “What about her?”

“Ye said yer guard might be back today.” She kept her voice low, though the music and chatter below would have swallowed anything short of a shout. “And if he comes with news about her maither…”

Kian’s jaw flexed. “We talked about this. If her maither’s alive and wants her back, then we have nay right to her.”

“I ken what ye said.” Scarlett’s arms tightened around her ribs. “And I agree.”

Kian straightened. “Ye… agree?”

Scarlett met his eyes then, letting him see the truth of it. “Aye. If she’s a good woman who loves her, who can care for her, it’s the right thing.” Her throat worked as she forced the words out. “But I cannae…”

The rest tangled in her chest, sharp and hot. Tears pricked behind her eyes. She turned her face away before he could see too much.

Kian’s voice gentled, though it still held that unyielding edge. “Scarlett.”

“Nay.” She shook her head once, the motion clipped. “I cannae talk about it right now.”

For a beat, he said nothing. Then his hand brushed hers. Not quite a touch, but close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Dance with me.”

She blinked at him. “Dance?”

“It’s a festival,” he said, as if that explained everything. “Folk will expect the laird and his lady to be seen together. Laughin’. Enjoyin’ themselves. Not scowlin’ over the crowd like they’re weighin’ who to hang first.”