Page 2 of A Highland Bride Disciplined (Scottish Daddies #2)

Then, with a tone that felt more business than comfort: “Because I leave for Edinburgh tomorrow, and I want ye settled first.”

Scarlett blinked. “Ye what?”

“Whiskey contracts. Trade routes. I’ll be gone a month, maybe two.”

The cold returned, this time deeper. “So that’s it? We marry, ye whisk me off to yer keep, then leave like it means nothin’?”

“It’s duty,” he said.

“I ken about duty,” she snapped. “But I thought —” She bit off the rest. She wasn’t about to beg for crumbs of attention.

He didn’t notice, or at least he pretended not to. “The clan depends on this. I’ll nay waste time lingerin’.”

Scarlett turned her face away, eyes on the winding path ahead.

So this was marriage.

Cold, quiet, and full of silence where warmth might’ve lived.

Until Tam stiffens. Kian also stiffened, searching the dark woods for movement.

“There,” Tam said suddenly, pointing.

Scarlett looked up, and saw a figure stumbling toward them. A woman, running hard, her skirts torn and hair in disarray.

Scarlett’s breath hitched.

Something is wrong.

The woman was breathless, pale as milk, and darting glances behind her like the devil himself nipped at her heels. Her gown was torn, hem soaked in mud.

Scarlett stood in the carriage, heart racing. “Stop! Stop the carriage!”

Tam pulled the reins hard, and the horses whinnied in protest. Kian’s head snapped toward her. “What in the hell?”

“There’s a woman! We cannae just pass her!”

By the time the coach fully halted, Scarlett had already leapt down, boots thudding on the road. The woman skidded to a stop a few paces away, eyes wide with panic, her chest heaving.

“Lass,” Scarlett said gently, lifting her hands in peace. “Ye’re safe now. What’s happened to ye?”

The woman opened her mouth, but no sound came. Her gaze flicked again over her shoulder, and that’s when Scarlett saw them.

Five men.

Coming fast over the ridge, dark shapes framed by moor and sky. Not soldiers. Ruffians. Two had blades drawn. One carried a length of rope.

“Behind me,” Scarlett ordered without thinking, grabbing the woman’s arm and pulling her close.

She felt Kian step down beside her, voice low and edged in steel. “Tam.”

“Aye.” Tam was already moving, unsheathing his sword with a hiss.

The lead pursuer shouted, “That lass is ours . She ran. She’s nothin’. A servant .”

“Yer servant’s runnin’ from ye ,” Scarlett snapped back. “Looks to me like she had good reason.”

“This is none o’ yer concern, woman,” one of the men sneered.

“Ye’ll remember kindly to nae address me wife as such,” Kian growled. “And, as me wife, what’s hers , is mine. She’s claimed this lass, so I say we’re done here.”

Scarlett’s heart thudded at his side. She hated the way his voice thrilled through her. It wasn’t fair. He’d all but ignored her for hours, but now, standing in the road like her own personal tempest, he felt solid. Fierce. Like a shield.

The men hesitated.

“And who are ye?”

“Doesnae matter. Ye are goin’ to die anyway. What’s in a name?”

The silence was deafening.

Then, like all cowards do when puffed up in a pack, they surged forward.

The first swung for Kian.

Steel clanged.

Scarlett gasped as Kian ducked the blow, blade already in motion. He was brutally fast. In a heartbeat he had the man disarmed and bleeding in the dirt.

Tam let out a wild laugh, lunging into the fray with a cry of glee. “Finally! Something worth swingin’ at!”

Another man came toward Scarlett, eyes cruel.

Kian stepped between them without hesitation. “Touch her, and I’ll end ye slow.”

That man wisely turned and bolted.

The rest fell quickly.

Blood stained the road.

The last man dropped his weapon and ran limping toward the hills, not even glancing back.

Scarlett exhaled hard, still clutching the woman’s arm. Her hands were shaking.

Kian turned to her sharply. “What in God’s name were ye thinkin’, leapin’ from the carriage like that?”

“I was thinkin’ she was about to be taken or killed right in front of us!” Scarlett shot back.

“And what would I have done if ye’d been caught in the middle o’ that?” His face was flushed with fury. “ Ye could’ve been killed , Scarlett!”

She stepped forward, chin tilted high. “So could she . Am I meant to turn me head and pretend I dinnae see?”

“Ye’re meant to be cautious!” he shouted, then lowered his voice, teeth clenched. “Ye’re me wife now. Yer life is nay longer just yer own.”

His words hit like a slap.

Not the ownership of them. No, that wasn’t what stung. It was the way he said wife . Like it mattered. Like she mattered. Like he meant it.

Before she could answer, the woman stirred beside her.

“Erm… Thank ye,” she whispered, voice shaking. “I dinnae ken where else to run when I saw yer carriage.”

Scarlett turned toward her, more gently now. “What’s yer name, lass?”

“Nieve,” she said after a beat. “Nieve O’Brien.”

Kian nodded to Tam, who started hauling the bodies off the road. “Where were ye headin’, Nieve?”

She glanced between them, hugging herself. “South. I daenae have coin, but I thought if I could make it as far as Dunmore, I might find passage.”

Scarlett hesitated. “Do ye need shelter? We could take ye as far as?—”

But Nieve shook her head fast. “Nay. I cannae… I need to disappear.”

Scarlett’s eyes narrowed at the way her hand drifted protectively to her middle.

Just a slight movement.

Barely noticeable.

But it twisted something in Scarlett’s chest.

Kian had already moved toward the carriage. Without a word, he opened a pouch and pulled free a small bundle. He pressed it into Nieve’s hand.

“Get somewhere safe,” he said.

The woman’s eyes filled. “I daenae ken how to thank ye.”

“Live,” Kian replied.

Scarlett watched her go until the curve of the hills swallowed her up. When she turned back, Kian was already mounting his horse again, like it was nothing.

Like none of it mattered.

She climbed back into the carriage in silence.

They rode again.

Only when the quiet stretched too long, she said, “Ye dinnae have to give her coin.”

“Oh, nay?” he eyed her knowingly.

“Nay…”

“She wouldnae have made it otherwise.”

Scarlett eyed him. “Ye say little, but ye’re full o’ surprises, Laird Crawford.”

He didn’t look at her, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Daenae get used to it.”

She laughed, despite herself.

And then, just when the warmth might’ve crept in, he ruined it.

“I’ll see ye safe at the keep. But ye’ll need to learn how to obey, Scarlett.”

Her heart clenched. “And if I daenae obey ?”

He finally turned his gaze on her again. Brown and bottomless.

“Then this marriage will be a bloody long war.”

The road narrowed as they passed into the wild Crawford hills. Grey slopes rising like old bones beneath a pale sky. Heather whispered in the wind and the scent of pine crept into the carriage as Scarlett sat stiffly beside Kian, her arms crossed tight.

She could still see the woman’s pale face in her mind.

Nieve. What accent was that? Lowlands?

Her hands had been shaking. Clutching her belly like it might vanish if she didn’t hold on.

With child?

Kian hadn’t asked. Hadn’t needed to. Just handed her gold and sent her off into the wild.

Scarlett stole a glance at him.

He rode like a man born to it. Broad shoulders square, one hand steady on the reins, the other resting easy on his thigh. There was blood on his sleeve, but he hadn’t bothered to wipe it clean.

She looked away.

“Ye’re angry again,” he said without looking at her.

“Nae angry,” she muttered. “Just takin’ measure.”

“Of what?”

“Of the kind of man who gives a lass coin and then tells his wife to learn obedience.”

Kian let out a short laugh. “Ye’ve a sharp tongue, Lady Crawford.”

Scarlett turned to him. “Aye, and ye’ve a thick skull. Makes us a fine pair.”

That earned her a real chuckle. Deep. Rough. Too warm.

She hated how it made her stomach flutter.

He looked at her then, finally meeting her gaze, and something in his expression softened. Only for a heartbeat. But it was there. Clear as the sun.

“I daenae want a wife who bows and simpers,” he said quietly. “But I do expect a wife who’ll listen.”

“I was listenin’,” she said. “I just dinnae like what I heard.”

He smirked. “Then it seems we’ll both have to get used to disappointment.”

Scarlett huffed a laugh despite herself and leaned back against the seat, letting the gentle sway of the carriage jostle her sideways.

In the distance, the great towers of Crawford Keep began to rise from the mist. Sharp, grey stone scraped against the sky like a warning. Scarlett had only seen sketches, but in person it was far bleaker than she imagined.

No gardens. No open fields. Just rock, battlements, and walls thick enough to hold back the world.

“Home,” Kian said, without a hint of affection.

Scarlett swallowed. “Looks cheerful.”

Kian quirked a brow. “Did ye expect ribbons and roses?”

“I expected nothin’.”

“Ye’ll make it yer own, if ye’re clever enough.”

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.