Page 29 of A Highland Bride Disciplined (Scottish Daddies #2)

“She loved her,” Scarlett murmured, broken. “And yet she had to give her away. What would cause such a thing?”

Kian’s jaw tightened. “Lovin’ and keepin’ are nae always the same. She kent her limits. Hard as it was, she may have thought this was the only way to save the bairn from the grips of death.”

Scarlett blinked back tears, though they spilled hot regardless. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I cannae imagine ever lettin’ Elise go. Nae now. Nae after…”

Her shoulders curled, chest heaving. The image of Nieve’s frightened eyes haunted her, overlaying Elise’s innocent face. The two tangled until Scarlett couldn’t separate them.

Kian reached out then, laying his hand over the parchment. Not prying it from her, only grounding her fingers under his. His touch was warm, steady, a weight against the storm.

“Scarlett,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”

She did, reluctantly, her eyes glassy.

“She’s gone,” Kian said, gentler now. “And nothin’ will change that. But Elise remains. She’s here. Breathin’. Smilin’. All because of ye. Because ye’ve done what that lass begged of us. Ye’ve given her a home.”

Scarlett’s tears blurred her vision until all she saw was the outline of him, broad and unshaken, a pillar while she cracked apart. She hated how much she needed that steadiness. Hated that it helped.

Her voice fought a tremor. “What if she grows to hate me for keepin’ her? For lettin’ her ma?—”

“Ye dinnae let her ma do anythin’. Ye had no idea.

And I’m sure that she willnae,” Kian said, quick and sure.

His tone left no room for doubt. “Elise will ken she was loved twice over. Once by the woman who bore her, and again by the ones who raised her. That is nae a curse, Scarlett. That’s a blessing. ”

“Why have ye changed yer mind about all of this? Why are ye bein’ so kind?”

Kian blanched. “I’ve nae changed me mind. I told ye that I’d find out about Elise’s maither. I’ve done just that, and this is the result.”

The letter fell to the table, its ink-stained confession glaring back at them.

Scarlett’s sobs echoed too loud in the chamber. She pressed both hands over her face, as if she could quiet them, as if her grief weren’t spilling everywhere.

Kian didn’t flinch at her tears. He didn’t look away. He only waited, silent and immovable, letting her fall apart in the safety of his presence.

The scrape of his boots against the stone reached her first, then the warmth of his presence settling like a shadow over her. She felt him pause, only inches away, as though testing if she’d break should he touch her.

Then his hand came down, firm and sure, resting on her shoulder.

That was all it took. She fell forward, into him. Her forehead hit his chest, and the sob ripped out of her throat, muffled against the fabric of his shirt. His arms closed around her, tight and grounding.

Scarlett clutched at him, fisting the front of his tunic as if to anchor herself to something solid while the rest of her world reeled.

She hadn’t realized until this moment how badly she’d wanted someone to hold the weight with her.

How heavy it had let it become, waiting, wondering, carrying Elise’s life in her arms with no knowledge of what past might come crashing through the keep’s doors.

Now the answer was here, and it was almost unbearable.

“I wish I had found her sooner,” Scarlett rasped against his chest. “If I’d followed her —”

“Stop.” His voice was rough but steady, a command more than a plea.

He tipped her chin up with two fingers until her tear-stained eyes met his.

His gaze was dark, but not cold. “Scarlett, there’s nay point in guessing about ‘if this’ or ‘if that’.

Ye couldnae have kent. Neive chose this.

She trusted us with her daughter. That is the truth, and nothin’ ye say will change it. ”

“But —”

“Nay.” His grip tightened, his thumb brushing against the damp skin of her cheek.

“Ye’ve spent almost two months pourin’ every drop of yerself into that bairn.

Do ye think she’d be smilin’ as she does, sleepin’ as sound, if ye hadnae?

Scarlett, ye’ve given Elise more than that lass ever believed she could have.

That’s the truth. And ye’ll give her more yet. ”

The words cut through, steady as the hand on her jaw. Her tears slowed, though her chest still hitched with each breath.

She leaned into his touch despite herself, her eyes fluttering shut as she drew in the scent of him. Solid. Real.

Her voice came softer now. “What if I fail?”

Kian’s brow furrowed. He dipped closer until his breath warmed her temple.

“Scarlett Murray, I’ve seen ye face down armed men, seen ye stare me down in me own hall without blinkin’.

Ye’ve run this keep as though ye were born to it.

Do ye truly think ye’ll falter at raisin’ a bairn who already kens yer arms as home? ”

Scarlett swallowed hard, her throat aching. “But she’ll ask. One day, she’ll ask where she came from.”

“Aye,” Kian admitted. He slid a hand up her back, resting it between her shoulder blades.

“And when she does, we’ll tell her the truth.

That her maither loved her, but kenned she wasnae strong enough to keep her.

That she left her wi’ us because she wanted her to live and thrive.

There’s nay shame in that, Scarlett. Nay shame in a bairn kennin’ she was wanted and loved enough to be given a chance at more. ”

Scarlett blinked up at him, tears still brimming but no longer blinding. His face was so close, his jaw clenched in that steady way of his, but his eyes were softer now.

“And if ye falter,” Kian went on, his voice dropping low, almost a growl, “then I’ll be there. She’ll have both of us. She’ll never want for faither or maither. That, I vow.”

The certainty in his tone shook something loose in her chest. For weeks, she’d feared the unspoken.

That one day Kian might yet decide Elise was better off elsewhere, that this fragile belonging she’d carved for the child could be ripped away.

But here, in this moment, with his arms around her and his vow spoken plain, Scarlett felt the ground steady beneath her at last.

Her lips parted slightly. “Ye mean it?”

Kian’s gaze didn’t waver. “Aye. I’ll never speak again of givin’ her away. She’s ours now. And she’ll stay ours .”

Scarlett gasped, the weight of it settling over her heart. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed to hear those words until now. Relief broke through the grief, tangled with a rush of gratitude so sharp it made her dizzy.

Her hand lifted, brushing against his chest, not in anger this time but to feel the beat beneath his ribs.

“Thank ye,” she whispered, and though her voice cracked, the words held.

Kian dipped his head to hers and gently pressed a kiss to her lips.

It was a soft, tender kiss that lasted only a second before he gathered her tighter, and rested his chin atop her hair.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The fire crackled low in the grate, shadows stretching along the walls, and Scarlett let herself breathe in rhythm with his.

For the first time since she’d held Elise in her arms, she didn’t feel as though she was holding everything alone.

When at last she shifted, drawing back enough to meet his eyes, she found no mockery there. No restraint. Only the quiet weight of a man who had chosen, fully and without hesitation, to bind himself not just to her but to the child they now shared.

Kian hadn’t meant to kiss her. Or at least he hadn’t planned on it.

He’d meant only to steady her, to shoulder the grief she carried so fiercely alone. But when she tipped her face up to him, tear-streaked and trembling, something broke loose inside his chest. Before he thought better of it, his mouth found hers.

It wasn’t like the other times. This kiss was quiet and careful. His lips brushed hers with reverence rather than hunger, as though afraid she might vanish if he pressed too hard.

Scarlett gasped softly against him, her fingers curling into his tunic, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she leaned in, returning the kiss with equal gentleness, her mouth warm and tentative. He tasted salt from her tears, felt the fragile shudder in her body as she breathed him in.

It undid him.

For once, there was no fight between them, no barbs on their tongues. Just the unspoken truth lingering in the press of lips and the fragile tether of their breaths mingling.

When at last he pulled back, it was only to rest his chin atop her hair, breathing hard as though he’d just fought a battle. Scarlett didn’t move, and that was answer enough.

He gathered her hand then, and led her to the opposite side of the room where they collapsed onto the bed together, clothes and all.

No hunger driving them, no desperate hands clawing for more.

Just her pressed close to his side, her head pillowed on his chest, her breath warming the fabric of his shirt.

Kian wrapped an arm around her and let the silence settle. He thought she’d drift first, but it was his own eyes that grew heavy, his body too weary from the journey, from the weight of news he’d carried home, from the kiss that had hollowed him out. Sleep took him before he could think twice.

Dawn crept pale through the shutters. Kian woke to the unfamiliar weight of another body tangled with his. Scarlett’s hair tickled his chin, strawberry strands mussed from sleep, her hand still fisted lightly in his shirt.

For one wild, reckless moment, he let himself imagine this as it might be if things were different. Waking like this every morning. A wife who trusted him enough to sleep in his arms. A bairn crying from the cradle by the hearth, theirs and no one else’s.

His chest ached with the thought.

Scarlett stirred, blinking blearily before lifting her head. The instant she realized where she was, he saw it in her eyes. The shift. The walls going back up.

She pulled back a little, clearing her throat. “That… what happened between us the other night… and last night.”

Images of her naked body writhing under his flashed across his mind like the crack of a whip. “Aye?”

“Ye distracted me from me own crazed thoughts. Thank ye for comforting me. I dinnae ken that… that … would have been so —” she cut herself off. “Anyway, thank ye.”

Kian’s jaw tightened. Is that what it was? Comfort?

The words landed sharper than he wanted them to. He forced his expression blank, though something raw burned in his chest. Sure, he played at her tenderness to bring her to heel, but comfort? The last thing he wanted to do that night was comfort her. And last night? Last night was… what was it?

It was duty. Or so he told himself.

“A husband’s duty is to take care of his wife.”

“Aye, duty ,” Scarlett said and smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She slipped off the bed, smoothing her skirts as if to erase the evidence of where she’d been.

Kian lay still, watching her go, the scent of her hair still lingering on his skin, the warmth of her body already fading from the mattress beside him.

He turned his face toward the window, jaw clenched, and told himself he could live with it. The marriage of convenience that he’d always wished to have. He’d lived with worse, after all.

But God help him, the lie tasted bitterer than any truth he’d ever swallowed.