Page 43 of A Highland Bride Disciplined (Scottish Daddies #2)

At the gate, Roderick Hendry stood waiting, smug as ever.

His hair gleamed with oil, his cloak trimmed finer than his father’s coin could honestly afford.

And still something flickered in his eyes.

Is that relief? What would I look like if someone was returning me own child to me? Would I look like him?

Scarlett’s stomach churned. Something was off.

When he saw her, babe in arms, his smile widened almost too widely. “At last,” he said. “At long last.”

Kian’s hand brushed Scarlett’s elbow. Not a comfort, but a command. She stepped forward, each pace dragging her heart down.

She stopped just short of Roderick. Elise stirred in her arms, a soft gurgle, and Scarlett pressed her lips to the child’s temple. She wanted to burn the memory into her skin.

Roderick reached his hands out. “Come then. Yer faither’s waitin’.”

Scarlett stiffened. Faither. The word curdled in her gut.

She couldn’t just hand Elise over. She needed some kind of hope, or perhaps reassurance that the lass was well and cared for and loved just as her maither had hoped. Scarlett heard her own voice break free before she could stop it. “… Might we come visit? From time to time?”

Roderick’s brow furrowed and he stiffened as if insulted by the request. “Visit?”

The ground beneath Scarlett’s feet began to shift ever so slightly. Having not anticipated an argument, she was immediately unsettled, and didn’t even think of the next words out of her mouth.

Her arms tightened around the bundle. “Aye. To see her grow. To let her ken us.”

He blinked, baffled. Then, with a slow curl of his lips, he asked, “See her ? What are ye on about?”

Scarlett frowned the confusion plain across her brow as she angled the child away from Roderick, putting herself in between them. “Aye, her . Elise. Yer daughter.”

For a heartbeat, silence reigned. Then his smile snapped away. His face hardened like granite, eyes narrowing.

“Her?” he spat. He turned his gaze sharply to Kian. “Ye risked yer men, yer keep, all this —” he gestured wide, at the walls, the bows, the warriors lining the stones, “for a useless daughter ?”

Gasps rippled through the courtyard. Tam’s hand twitched toward his sword. Out of the corner of his eye, Hamish closed the distance. Campbell growled low, audible even from the wall.

Scarlett froze, blood draining from her face. She clutched Elise close, as if her body could shield the bairn from the man’s venom.

Kian’s jaw locked. His eyes, dark and dangerous, fixed on Roderick. The tension in him was palpable, like a storm straining against the sky.

Scarlett could hardly breathe. The word useless rang in her skull. Elise squirmed, sensing the change in the air, a fretful cry spilling from her lips.

And in that moment Scarlett knew — This was nae a faither’s relief. This was nae a man’s love. Whatever she’d told herself, whatever guilt she’d carried… it meant nothing to Roderick Hendry.

Nothing at all.

The insult hit him like a blade to the gut. Useless daughter.

Kian saw red.

His fists clenched at his sides, the pulse hammering in his temples louder than the stirrings of the men on the walls.

Roderick’s voice carried through the courtyard, a snake’s hiss dressed in silk, but Kian barely heard the words.

His gaze fixed on Scarlett and Elise. His wife rigid with shock, the bairn crying against her chest.

Then Roderick moved, and Kian caught it instantly. The bastard’s hand slipped to the hilt of his sword, and his body angled — not at him, but at Scarlett. At the babe.

“Scarlett!” Kian’s roar ripped through the courtyard as he closed the distance between them metal clashing loudly against metal as their blades collided. “Hamish! Now!”

Hamish was already moving, his face a thundercloud. “Come, lass,” he urged, pulling Scarlett toward the keep. Campbell flanked her, his own hand on his blade, his eyes promising carnage to anyone who dared follow.

Scarlett clutched Elise tighter, stumbling back but refusing to release her. Kian locked eyes with her for one breath, one desperate heartbeat. She was terrified, but she nodded once, fierce as ever, and ran.

The instant the door slammed shut behind her, and Campbell stood guarding the door, Kian turned.

Roderick was laughing. Dismounting his horse, spinning his sword at his side, the metal glinting in the torchlight. Kian’s men shifted, some raising blades, others looking uncertain, their earlier bravado faltering.

Kian drew his own steel in one smooth motion, his voice a growl. “Ye dare raise steel against the Lady of Crawford? Against a bairn?”

Roderick sneered, circling. “She tricked me. That whore birthed me a daughter. Worthless. I would’ve drowned her at birth if I were there.”

Kian’s rage boiled over. “Then it’s a mercy she never called ye faither.”

Kian lunged. Steel rang sharp in the night air.

The courtyard exploded into chaos — raging shouts, the crash of metal, the scrape of boots on stone. Tam barked orders, arrows already cleaving a path through Roderick’s men who approached on horseback.

Campbell’s men roared to the east, sending more scrambling than striking in the shadow of the wood. Behind him, Campbell roared, hurling himself into the fray of McTavish men who had made it inside the courtyard, Hamish was beside him, both men swinging like they were avenging spirits.

But for Kian, there was only Roderick.

Every strike was fueled by fury, every parry by the image of Scarlett shielding Elise. Roderick was fast, faster than Kian expected, but sloppy. Rage made him reckless.

“Ye think ye’re better than me?” Roderick spat, their blades locked. “She was mine. That maid belonged to me. I bedded her where I pleased, when I pleased. And I gave her the peace she asked for.”

Kian’s chest constricted. “What?”

Roderick’s grin was sickening. “Aye. I found her near Oban. She thought she could hide from me — thought she could shame me wi’ her weakness.

Had me thinkin’ that she had given me the son I had always wished for.

” He laughed then, a humorless laugh, the venom dripping from the edges of his mouth as he ran a hand through his hair, “Well, that whore was beggin’ me for death by the time I was finished wi’ her. ”

The words blurred into roaring in Kian’s ears.

Scarlett’s face flashed in his mind. Elise’s gurgling laugh. The letter Nieve had left. The thought of that broken woman, left to despair and ruin by the monster in front of him —

Kian reared back only slightly and kicked Roderick back with a roar. His boot colliding square in the center of the McTavish pup’s chest, knocking the wind from him.

Roderick stumbled, gripping his center, clearly affronted, but Kian closed the distance.

Their blades clanged again, sparks flying.

Roderick swung hard, a wild arc meant to cleave Kian’s shoulder, but Kian parried, the force jarring through his bones. The younger man recovered faster than expected, pivoting to jab low toward Kian’s ribs. Steel scraped steel, the tip glancing off Kian’s cuirass and leaving a shallow dent.

“Ye’ll nae take me so easy,” Roderick spat, breathless but grinning like a crazed man.

“Ye’re already beaten, pup ,” Kian snarled, driving him back step by step.

Roderick didn’t appreciate that specific endearment. He fought back like a man unhinged, desperation lending strength to every blow.

Kian recognized that the man’s technique would wear him down all on his own. Roderick feinted left, then brought his blade down in a furious chop.

Kian caught it easily and parried, their swords locking so close he could see the sweat dripping from Roderick’s brow, the madness in his eyes.

“She begged, Crawford,” Roderick hissed, teeth bared. “Begged me wi’ tears on her cheeks. And there was somethin’ about her desperation that I — mmmm… ye ken?”

Rage surged again.

Kian shoved with all his might, breaking the lock. Roderick staggered, then lunged again, blade whistling toward Kian’s throat. He swung wildly.

Kian ducked, the blade whistling past his ear, and drove his own sword forward.

It sank deep.

Roderick’s eyes widened, shock and confusion flashing before blood bubbled at his lips. He staggered, choking, staring at the steel in his chest.

Kian leaned close, his voice low and brutal. “Ye’ll never touch another soul again, ye evil bastard. The world is better to be free of ye, for good.”

With a savage twist, he yanked the blade free.

Roderick crumpled. His sword clattered to the stones, his body folding after it.

The courtyard fell silent almost instantly.

His men, who’d fought half-heartedly even before, stared at their fallen commander. One man dropped his sword. Another stepped back, hands raised. Within moments, they were throwing down weapons, voices pleading surrender.

Tam barked at Crawford men to round them up. Campbell gave a bloodthirsty laugh, but even he lowered his blade once it was clear the fight was over. Hamish exhaled hard, wiping sweat from his brow.

Kian stood over Roderick’s body, chest heaving. His knuckles were white on the hilt of his sword, and his breath hung ragged with the weight of what he’d done. The smell of blood filled his lungs, bitter and final.

He looked up.

Every eye in the courtyard was on him. His men. Scarlett’s kin. Even the surrendered McTavish soldiers. They all waited for his word, his judgment.

“Crawford stands,” Kian said, his voice steady despite the storm in his chest. “Crawford will always stand. And nay man who threatens us, our blood, our bairns, will live to see another dawn.”

A roar answered him, fierce and united.

But when the echo died away, Kian’s gaze turned to the keep. To the door Scarlett had vanished behind. He could almost feel her fear lingering in the stones.

Roderick was dead. His men and his father’s men in slow retreat. But the weight on Kian’s shoulders hadn’t lifted.

Because Elise’s safety wasn’t just about blades and battles. It was about promises. To her. To Scarlett.