Page 37 of A Highland Bride Disciplined (Scottish Daddies #2)

T he torches along the corridor whispered as rain fell softly against the arrow slits. Scarlett’s skirts brushed the stone, her husband’s stride steady beside her, his hand warm but firm at the small of her back.

They had returned late, weariness in their bones, yet Kian refused to let her walk alone. He insisted on escorting her to her chamber.

Her thoughts lingered on Elise — it was always Elise — and the way the wee lass curled against her shoulder even when she slept. It steadied Scarlett, after the chaos of the last few days, to know the child was under her roof. Safe.

The heavy door creaked as Scarlett pushed it open. The fire within had burned low, embers pulsing faintly in the hearth. Effie snored softly on the pallet near the cradle, one arm flung over her face. But Scarlett’s eyes darted not to the maid, nor the cradle.

A shadow moved.

A tall figure, broad-shouldered, was already inside her chamber, only a few steps from the cradle.

Scarlett’s voice cracked out before she’d thought of it. “Stop!”

The intruder froze mid-stride. Effie bolted upright, hair sticking out at all angles. “M’lady? What —?”

Scarlett’s breath hammered in her chest as the stranger turned slowly, his face catching the glow of the embers.

Roderick Hendry.

He was the younger McTavish son, whom she’d seen all of two days prior at the hunt, his smile too polished, his words too sweet.

Her stomach turned. “What in God’s name are ye doing in me chambers? Why are ye near me child?”

Before she could charge at the man, Kian was at her side, arm intercepting her approach. Steel hissed as he drew his dagger. His presence filled the room like a storm.

“Step away,” Kian growled, his voice dark as thunder.

Roderick’s lips curled into a sheepish smile, as though caught in a harmless prank. “Ah. Laird Crawford. Lady Crawford. Forgive me. A… misunderstanding, surely.”

“Misunderstanding?” Scarlett’s voice trembled but did not waver. “Ye crept into me chambers like ye had a right!”

Kian’s gaze cut to her for a brief moment, steady, protective — then locked back on Roderick. “Ye’ve ten seconds to explain why ye’re in me wife’s chambers before I gut ye where ye stand. And send yer faither that report.”

Roderick spread his hands, palms outward, that same insufferable charm plastered on his face. “Now, now. Nay need for dramatics. I only wished a word. In private. Matters of some delicacy.”

Scarlett’s skin crawled. His eyes had flicked, just for an instant, toward the cradle. “Why were ye near me child!”

“Only curiosity —” he started to say, but Kian stepped forward, blade gleaming in the low firelight. “Ye’ll say nothin’ here. Out.”

“Please,” Roderick said smoothly, as though they were in the hall of some grand feast instead of her chamber. “Give me but a moment. A chance to explain, and ye’ll see —”

“Out,” Kian snapped, fury pulsing in every syllable.

Roderick bowed curtly and strode past them into the corridor.

The air was brittle, like glass about to shatter. Scarlett pressed a hand against Kian’s arm. “Wait.”

Her voice cut soft but firm, enough to turn his gaze briefly to her, and Roderick halted his retreat, lingering in the darkness of the threshold.

“Perhaps… we should hear him, Kian. If he’s come all this way, skulkin’ around like this —” she swallowed. Then she shifted her stance, so that her back was to the door and lowered her voice so that only the two of them might hear, “What if this is about Elise?”

Kian’s eyes briefly connected with the man in the corridor before landing on Scarlett again. The muscle in his jaw clenched as though he could bite clean through his own temper. But he did not strike.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Fine. The study. Nae here in me wife’s room.”

Roderick bowed mockingly low, his voice silken. “As ye command, Laird Crawford.”

“Get,” Kian thundered, lunging at the man, his dagger still in hand.

Roderick smiled and his eyes lingered half a second too long on Scarlett, which made her skin prickle with disgust. Then he was gone, his bootsteps echoing down the corridor, striding down the hall as though this were his home.

The chamber fell silent again, save Effie’s anxious fumbling as she clutched at her hair. “Saints preserve me, m’lady. I thought he was a ghost when I woke —”

“Effie,” Kian cut in, voice clipped. “Stay here. Daenae leave this room till I say otherwise. Make sure she is safe.”

The girl nodded, pale as linen.

Kian sheathed his dagger, then turned to Scarlett. His anger hadn’t abated, but beneath it she saw the fierce concern.

She met his eyes, heart still pounding. “Kian… if he kens somethin’ about Elise, we must find out. Nay matter how vile the man. Or how much ye daenae trust his intentions.”

His nostrils flared. “And if it’s naught but lies?”

“Then we’ll ken it for lies. But if it’s truth…” Scarlett’s throat tightened. “We cannae afford to ignore it.”

For a moment, only the crackle of the embers filled the room.

Then Kian gave a curt nod. “Fine. But I’ll hear it where steel is close, and walls are strong. Come.”

He offered his arm. Scarlett placed her hand on it, her fingers trembling despite herself. Together, they left the chamber and followed the shadow of their enemy down toward the Kian’s study.

Scarlett trailed after Kian into the study, her fingers twisted tightly in the skirts at her sides. The room felt darker than usual.

“Speak,” Kian said, coldly.

Roderick Hendry crossed the room with a swagger that did not belong to a man caught sneaking into a lady’s chamber.

He bowed, not too low, not enough to truly humble himself. “Laird Crawford. Lady Crawford.” His voice was silk stretched thin, smooth enough to glide, sharp enough to cut. “I’d beg pardon for the intrusion, but as I said before, curiosity drove my actions tonight.”

Kian shut the door behind them with a slam that made Scarlett jump. “Ye’ll explain yerself now, and ye’ll do it fast. Why were ye in me wife’s room?”

Roderick spread his hands. “It was to lay eyes on the bairn.”

Scarlett’s stomach lurched. Her throat went tight, words clogging there. I kent it. Of course he was.

Kian’s jaw set like iron. “Ye’ll mind yer tongue. That child is under me roof. Me protection. And ye’ve nay right to enter me wife’s chambers.”

“Oh, but I do , Kian,” Roderick said smoothly, and a smile curved at the corners of his mouth, as easy as sin. “I believe the child is mine.”

The words struck like a fist. Scarlett staggered back a half-step, her hand finding the edge of Kian’s desk for balance.

Kian gave a low, dangerous laugh. “Ye’ll nae stand there, and spin lies to me.”

Roderick’s eyes gleamed. “Is it a lie, though? Nieve O’Brien — do ye recall the name?

She was a maid at me father’s keep. A slip of a lass, aye, but with hair dark as midnight and eyes wide as a frightened doe.

She was mine. For near a year, she came to my bed.

I tired of her, as men do, but nae before…

” His hand flicked as though brushing crumbs from a table. “She carried a consequence.”

A consequence?

Scarlett’s chest burned. She saw Nieve’s pale face in her mind, the way she had trembled when Scarlett first pulled her behind her skirts months ago. Elise’s laugh, Elise’s warm little body in her arms.

Kian’s eyes narrowed. “Ye expect me to believe this web of lies? Ye spin deceit as easy as a spider. Quite convenient, that now the maither is dead that the faither appears.”

Roderick’s grin did not falter, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Dead, ye say?”

Scarlett’s heart lurched. She looked to Kian, who drew the folded parchment from his coat and tossed it onto the desk between them. “Aye. She left this.”

Roderick picked it up slowly, unfolding the paper. His eyes flickered over the words, his face unreadable. For one long moment he stood frozen, and then, like a snake shedding its skin, his expression smoothed.

He let the paper fall back to the desk.

“A tender hand, that lass had,” he murmured, as though he were reminiscing. “Too tender for this world.”

Scarlett’s breath stuttered. Her chest ached. Her own voice whispered in her head. I’ll nae raise her alone, Kian. I’ll nae let her go.

But what if I was wrong? What if the right place for Elise was with her faither, her blood?

Roderick turned his smile on her, softening his edges as if he could read her doubt. “Lady Scarlett —” he started, but Kian cut him a look that could kill if it were steel.

“Lady Crawford… ye’ve done a noble thing, keeping the bairn safe this long. I’ll nae forget it. But surely ye understand me rights as a faither. A daughter or a son — it matters little. But what does matter is that I have come to claim what’s mine. And ye have nay standing right.”

Scarlett’s nails bit into her palms. Her heart twisted as though someone had reached inside her chest and squeezed. Elise’s small hand clutching her gown, her sleepy eyes seeking Scarlett’s face — it all blurred.

What right did we truly have?

Kian’s voice cut through her storm like steel. “Ye’ll claim nothin’.”

Scarlett’s head snapped toward him. His stance was rigid, his body a barrier between her and Roderick.

“Kian —” she whispered.

But he went on, voice low, steady, unyielding.

“The lass chose. She left the babe with us. Her last words named me wife and me as the ones who would keep the child. She trusted us , not ye . I’ll nae break her trust, nor hand over an innocent to a man who cannae even keep his boots clean of scandal. ”

Roderick’s expression tightened, though the smile remained like paint on cracked plaster. “Kian, see sense, man. Ye risk makin’ an enemy where ye could have an ally. Me faither?—”

“Yer faither can shove his alliance,” Kian growled. “I’ll nae hand over the child to ye. Even if it means war.”

Scarlett’s heart pounded. She couldn’t breathe. She looked at Roderick. His open hands, the tilt of the head, the hurt in his eyes. And then at Kian. Eyes blazing and immovable.

The guilt swallowed her whole. She’d almost failed Nieve once. She refused to fail Elise now by keeping her from her father.

“Stop!” Her voice rose sharp, cutting through their standoff. Both men turned to her. Her hands shook as she lifted them. “Enough. If he’s truly the faither —”

Kian’s gaze burned into her. “Scarlett.”

She pressed on, throat raw. “If he’s truly the faither, then what right have we, truly? He speaks true. Look at him. We’ve done what we were asked. And now that he is here, the bairn belongs with blood.”

Roderick’s smile softened, gratitude painted over his features like balm. “Ye see reason, m’lady. I kent ye would.”

Kian’s body went rigid.

His voice dropped to a growl. “Ye will get nothin’ and nay one from us this night, Roderick Hendry. Ye’ll leave Crawford Keep with yer life and yer pride immediately, if ye’re wise.”

Scarlett flinched. The force of his words, the finality, cracked the tension around them.

Roderick’s eyes flickered, menacingly almost. “Careful, laird. Ye daenae ken the storm ye’re callin’ down.”

Kian stepped forward, looming, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. “I ken what yer faither is capable of, but ye? Ye arenae capabale of even bringing a gale to me gates. Leave, boy .”

For the first time, the smile slipped from Roderick’s lips. He inclined his head, a bow too shallow to be respectful, and backed toward the door. “This isnae finished. Ye’ll regret refusin’ me what’s mine.”

The door slammed behind him, leaving silence thick as smoke.

Scarlett’s chest heaved. She wanted to scream, to sob, to collapse. Instead she stood, trembling, her gaze locked on her husband.

Kian’s jaw was set, and his eyes were ablaze. The decision had been made without her.

Scarlett swallowed hard, her guilt and fear tangling like barbs inside her.

“Ye shouldnae have done that,” was all she managed to say. Her voice cracked, more with fear than fury, though she hated that he could hear it.

Kian stood where Roderick had left them, still braced like a wall of stone, his hand hovering near his dagger as though the man might come slinking back. “I had every right,” he said evenly. “This is me keep. Me wife. Me —” He stopped himself, the word catching.

Child.

Scarlett’s arms wrapped around her middle, holding in the tremble. “She is his blood, Kian. What if we’ve stolen what was never meant for us?”

He strode toward her, not with anger this time but with something sharper, something that cut right to her chest. “Listen to me. Blood isnae all that makes a family. That man —” he jerked his head toward the door, “— cares for naught but power. Nieve kent it. That’s why she left the bairn with us.”

Scarlett looked down, shame burning her cheeks. “But what if ye’re wrong? What if I cannae raise her as she deserves? What if she’s better of with him?”

Kian reached her then, his hand catching her chin, tilting her face up until her eyes met his.

His touch was firm but not unkind. “Ye’ve done it already, Scarlett.

Every feed, every cry, every sleepless night — ye’ve carried her through it.

Daenae speak to me of doubt when I’ve watched ye prove yerself day after day. He could never.”

Her breath hitched. “We have nay right to that child, Kian! She is his, by birth right, by blood, by law.”

Kian rounded on her, voice low, unwavering. “He’ll nae take her from us. Nae while I draw breath.”

The words slammed into her chest like a vow spoken before an altar. Her knees wobbled, her throat tight with unshed tears.

Scarlett angled for a fight, but he lifted a hand halting her reply. “It’s done, Scarlett. Ye should go.”

The last words doused her skin like a molten fire, as if she had just been scolded and shamed. Tears tore through the dam she had tried to build. She felt utterly alone.