Page 34 of A Highland Bride Disciplined (Scottish Daddies #2)

Every time he looked up, his eyes found the same thing. Scarlett’s copper hair, green eyes, a child cupped against borrowed silk, and the impossible sense that the keep had finally filled to the right edges.

When the meal drew to an end, Astrid rose first, excusing herself with the air of a queen returning to her chamber.

Mabel leaned heavily on Campbell’s arm, her boys darting circles around their legs until their father barked them still.

Skylar pressed a kiss to Scarlett’s cheek, then rolled her eyes dramatically at Kian before sweeping out, her skirts nearly tangling in her haste.

Scarlett lingered, her hand resting on Elise’s cradle as Morag settled the babe to sleep in a quiet corner of the hall.

He watched Morag ease the tension that twisted along Scarlett’s shoulders. She nodded, but her hand lingered a moment longer before she let go.

As Kian watched, something unsettled moving through him. He’d seen her command men, soothe babes, spar with words sharp as steel. But this quiet, aching tenderness stole his breath.

“Should just go talk to her,” Tam muttered at his shoulder.

Kian shot him a look.

Tam only grinned, wiping foam from his beard. “Nay shame in enjoyin’ the company of yer wife, Laird. None at all.”

Kian rolled his eyes and waved the man away. Tam left shrugged but left him, his deep laugh lingering in his wake.

The hall slowly emptied, servants clearing trenchers, banked fires casting the last glow of the evening. Kian rose, stretching the stiffness from his shoulders, and caught Scarlett watching him from across the table. He smirked and closed the distance between them.

As he approached, her grin grew slowly to match his, and he bowed his head ever so slightly.

“Husband,” he heard her say softly.

He rose and offered his arm. “Wife.”

She hesitated, then rose, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow. Her touch was light and cautious. Together they walked the length of the hall, past Morag, past the cradle where Elise slept, past the last of the embers.

“Do ye wish to join us on the hunt tomorrow, lass?”

“I think I’ll stay in the keep with me sisters.”

“Aye, of course. If ye wished to, though, I’ll have a horse saddled.”

“Thank ye,” she said, as they slowly took to the stairs.

Not wanted to feel the pressure of the silence, Kian continued, “And how are yer sisters?”

“They’re all good… Skylar was —” a laugh interjected but she waved it off. “Never mind.”

Unsatisfied, but respectful of her privacy, Kian nodded. “Good,” he said finally, and continued down the corridor to her chamber door.

The gold hue of her hearth danced under the threshold of her chamber door causing him to slow to a stop, and Kian led Scarlett around to stand in front of him.

“If ye change yer mind in the morning, lass, just send word. We’ll leave a day break after the last of the guests arrive.”

“I will, thank ye,” she managed, and dipped her head before turning away from him.

He didn’t know what came over him. Some feeling of dissatisfaction or duty or that accusatory look that Skylar left him down in the hall, but he reached out for her then.

His arm crossing her chest and landing on her shoulder, urging her to face him again, and when she did, he lowered his head and kissed her.

The kiss was not heavy or heated. It didn’t mean he would push them into her chambers and take her again. It was gentle. Kind. A peace offering. As fast as a heartbeat. And then it was over.

Kian straightened and smiled down at her. “I’m glad yer family has made it safely.”

Her eyes searched his for a moment longer before she smiled back at him warmly. “Me too…”

Her hand lingered on the door for another breath before she pressed into her chambers slowly, brokering only a sliver of opportunity for him to join her. Kian simply stood there, smiling, and then bowed his head slightly. “Goodnight, lass.”

Before turning away and walking to his own chambers for the night he let her soft voice caress his spine, “Goodnight, Kian.”

The next morning, the hunt broke sharp and cold, the kind of air that cut through the lungs and made men feel alive. Kian stood in the courtyard, watching the arrival of more guests, his arms folded across his chest.

Horses stamped and snorted as grooms led them toward the stables. The banners of friendly clans rippled in the breeze, a show of loyalty and curiosity. Everyone wanted to witness Crawford rising again.

But Scarlett was nowhere to be seen. He already knew why.

Elise had coughed through the night, no fever, no wheezing, but enough to knot Scarlett’s face with worry until dawn.

He’d tried to assure her that bairns were delicate things, aye, but hearty too.

She’d only shaken her head, whispering against Elise’s hair like the child might vanish if she dared step away.

So Kian let her be. He would greet their guests, she would guard the nursery, and neither role felt less vital than the other.

“Laird Crawford!” A voice boomed across the yard.

Kian’s gaze flicked to the newcomer, a tall man with polished boots, fine wool doublet, and a smile too smooth for the Highlands. Roderick Hendry, second son of McTavish. His hair caught gold in the sunlight, his mouth practiced charm.

“Apologies that me laird faither and elder braither couldnae attend,” Roderick said with an easy bow. “Affairs o’ the glen, ye ken how it is.”

“Aye,” Kian answered, clasping his arm briefly. “Yer presence honors us nonetheless.”

“Just me, I fear. But perhaps that makes me easier company.” His grin sharpened. “Less politics, more sport.”

Campbell ambled up behind Kian, muttering low, “More humor too, if rumor speaks true.”

Roderick’s eyes flicked to him, but the smile never faltered. “And this must be Laird Muir. I’ve heard yer name in Stirling markets more than once.”

“Hope it wasnae attached to poor ale,” Campbell said.

Roderick laughed too easily. “On the contrary. O’er the legendary Crawford whiskey. Perhaps one day we’ll talk trade, aye? I could see McTavish coin running well through Crawford casks, if ye’re open.”

Kian studied him, weighing tone, measuring glances. “Less politics, aye?”

“Only if ye wish it,” Roderick said coolly. “We’ll speak when the deer are down, or we’ll just drink!”

Kian nodded firmly and clapped the man on his shoulder. “We sport!”

Roderick bellowed and changed the subject, “Tell me, Laird Crawford… is Lady Crawford to join us this morn’?”

Kian’s jaw tightened, though he kept his expression flat. “Lady Crawford has denied us of her presence, to me dismay. Should make for a stronger introduction during luncheon.”

“Of course.” Roderick’s gaze remained playful. “Tales o’ the beauty o’ the Dunlop sisters precede them all.”

Campbell stiffened beside him. “That’s nearin’ on tavern talk, lad. If ye ken what’s good for ye, ye’ll relent.”

Roderick lifted his hands, palms forward. “Och, Thomson, I’d ne’er! I meant nay slight. I only meant to compliment Kian’s choice.” His eyes glittered, studying Kian’s face for the smallest flicker.

Kian paused for only a breath before exhaling into a wide smile. “All is good, man. All is well. Nay offense taken here. Relax, Campbell.”

Campbell remained tight, but Roderick chuckled, bowing his head, grateful for the relief in tension. “Let us hunt, aye?” he bellowed loudly.

Kian turned his horse and signaled to the hunt leader. Moments later the horns called from the trees, breaking the chatter.

Men mounted, dogs barked, and the party rode toward the glen.

The forest swallowed them in shifting light, horses picking careful paths through heather and stone. Campbell kept close to Kian, muttering under his breath about “soft-handed men who’d sell their souls for a sniff o’ profit.”

Roderick, riding just ahead, turned often, his smile plastered like paint. “So tell me, Laird Crawford. How fares yer keep now? Strong walls? Healthy stores?”

Kian’s eyes shifted to assess the man. He rode with a loose grip and an ease across his brow. Mayhap a report back to his faither.

So, he entertained the line of questioning. “The keep stands. The stores hold.”

“Ah.” Roderick tilted his head, feigning innocence. “I’m sure me faither wrote to ye ahead of this hunt. He must have his report.”

Campbell snorted, but Kian just chuckled. “Nay, but it’s nay bother. I have a clan to run meself. I understand.”

Roderick smiled smoothly. “Ah, here he told me he would so ye might be able to help me out.”

Kian’s gaze remained neutral, even though he could see Campbell’s grip tightening around his reins.. “Speak plainly, then. I’ll see if I can afford to offer some resources to yer cause.”

Roderick shrugged, all careless grace. “I’ve been havin’ a terrible time lookin’ for someone. None of me men have been successful. Mayhap yer man, Tam, is it?”

“Aye, Tam.”

“Mayhap Tam can assist. Heard he was good at findin’ people.”

“Sure, I have a few men who might be able to help. Depends on the target as to who I’d lend ye.”

“Thank ye, Kian. Och, just a lad from the northern isles who we caught smugglin’ out our stores earlier this year. I mean to collect on the coin he’s promised us.”

Kian let his eyes drop over Campbell, who had eased his grip significantly. Good.

“Aye, Duncan Ross will be yer man. I’ll speak to him after the hunt and make introductions later on.”

“Thank ye, kindly, Kian. I’ll make sure me faither gets the word as well. Will put his mind at ease.”

The horns sounded again, and deer flushed ahead. The dogs surged, the party quickened. Roderick kicked his horse forward, laughing, calling back over his shoulder, “Let’s see if Crawford and Muir arrows are as sharp as McTavish’s, lads!”

Kian and Campbell both laughed and urged their steeds after the man. “In yer dreams,” Campbell hollered, bow knocked and aimed true.

Kian would let them fight it out this round. There would be several other chances that morning to make a kill.