Page 8 of A Highland Bride Disciplined

The horses slowed as they reached the gates. The guards opened them with wary stares, but not a word passed. Scarlett wondered how many had expected him to return with a bride. Or if they’d assumed, like she nearly had, that he’d vanish forever into his whiskey barrels and never look back.

The carriage rolled through into the shadow of the keep.

Inside, the courtyard bustled, though it quieted when they stepped out. The stable hands paused mid-task. A cook wiped her hands on her apron and squinted toward Scarlett like trying to place a memory. A little boy peeked out from behind a hay cart, eyes wide as moons.

Scarlett descended slowly, trying not to let her nerves show. Her boots hit stone, and for a moment she stood still, just breathing.

She belonged to this place now.

And it would belong to her if she had any say in the matter.

Kian gave orders quietly to Tam, who nodded and strode off toward the barracks.

He turned to her then, face unreadable again.

“We’ll speak later,” he said. “I’ve business to settle before I leave tomorrow.”

Scarlett blinked. “Ye still plan to leave? After all that?”

“I said I would. I keep me word.”

Her jaw clenched. “Of course ye do.”

He moved to step past her, but paused.

Then, very softly said, “If ye truly want to make somethin’ of this life, Scarlett, ye’ll need to learn to obey.”

She turned toward him, green eyes sharp as shattered glass.

“And if ye truly want a wife, Kian Murray… ye’ll need to learn to earn her.”

Her words hung between them like a challenge.

His mouth curved, not into a smile, but something darker. His eyes dragged down before raking back up the length of her. Then he stepped in, close enough that her skirts brushed his boots. “Careful, lass.”

Scarlett tilted her chin. “Or what?”

His hand hovered near her waist, heat pulsing over her skin though he never touched. “Or I’ll have to remind ye what already belongs to me.”

Her breath wavered, her chin stayed high, but her eyes betrayed her and dropped down to his mouth before darting back up.

Kian’s gaze locked on hers, molten. Then, just as the air between them burned impossibly hot, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Scarlett in the heart of her new home, knees trembling, the ghost of his touch searing her skin.

2

Kian found Tam leaning against the well post near the stables, chewing a stem of dry grass like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Ye’re leavin’ at dawn, then?” Tam asked without preamble, straightening when Kian approached.

“Aye,” Kian replied. “Ye’ll ride with me. We’ll stop at Dunrigg, check on the bonded stores, then press through to Edinburgh.”

Tam nodded, spitting the stalk to the ground. “I’ll see the horses fed and ready. What about yer new bride?”

“She’ll be fine,” Kian muttered, already walking. Tam fell in beside him. “Morag’s seen to her chambers. I’ll leave instructions before I go.”

Doubt she’ll listen to me, but Morag… mayhap…

They crossed the lower courtyard and stepped onto the gravel walk that circled the training yard. A dozen men moved in coordinated drills, swords flashing in the low light, boots thudding in rhythm. Kian watched a young guard stumble on a turn and clenched his jaw.