Page 6 of A Highland Bride Disciplined (Scottish Daddies #2)

C rawford Keep loomed ahead, its towers spearing into the cloudy Highland sky like they’d never crumbled, never faltered. But Kian noticed instantly that it was different.

The banners flew sharper. The stones looked cleaner. The scent of fresh bread wafted past the gate, stronger than any he remembered. Even the guard on post straightened his back instead of slouching.

He passed through the archway, Tam riding beside him, and took it in. The courtyard bustled like a market square. Workers moved with purpose. Children giggled near the kitchens. The stables were freshly swept, the herb garden flourishing where weeds had once ruled.

The keep was everything that he had tried desperately to get it to, but just couldn’t find the time.

“Keep looks like it woke up,” Tam muttered, adjusting the pack across his saddle. “Was half-dead when we left it.”

Kian grunted but nodded. “Lady Crawford has been busy.”

Tam gave him a sideways look. “Ye say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I dinnae say that.”

“Oh, sure… But ye thought it. I ken ye better than all that.”

Kian didn’t answer. His gaze swept the grounds again.

Dinnae think that either…

The barrels stacked neatly near the storehouse. The roof tiles properly mended on the eastern wing. Hell, even the kitchen dog looked fat and pleased with itself.

He’d known Scarlett would make use of her time. But this wasn’t survival. This was transformation.

“She’s done more than keep it from fallin’ apart,” Tam added.

“Aye,” Kian replied, his thoughts left hanging in the wind. Scarlett Murray has made Crawford Keep her own.

Just then, a sharp voice called out from across the courtyard, and Kian turned.

She was walking toward him.

Her stride was brisk, skirts gathered, chin high. A faint flush bloomed in her cheeks, though whether from the wind or temper, he couldn’t tell. She looked thinner than he remembered, but not weaker. Her green eyes were sharp, her expression unreadable.

Then he saw it just beneath the fire of her gaze, tucked into the shadows under her eyes.

Exhaustion.

Deep, dark circles. Not painted with worry, but carved by it.

Tam noticed too. He gave a low whistle, then stepped back.

“I’ll see to the horses,” he said, barely hiding the grin tugging at his mouth. “Best give the lady her moment.”

Kian dismounted, boots hitting the packed dirt with a thud. Scarlett stopped a few paces from him, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

“Welcome home,” she said coolly.

Kian studied her.

Eight months. And still she manages to look like a queen about to sentence me.

Her hair was a little longer. Her figure still as fine as he remembered. His memory, in fact, had done her no justice. Lady Crawford was stunning. And absolutely infuriating.

He nodded once. “Scarlett.”

She dipped her chin. “Laird Crawford.”

“I see ye’ve been... active,” he said, scanning the courtyard again.

She blinked. “Ye were expectin’ ruin, then?”

“I was expectin’ silence. That’s what I left.”

Scarlett’s lips twitched, but she didn’t smile. “Aye. Well ye should have married an idle bride. I’ll nae sit in wait.”

There it was. The bite.

He rolled his shoulders. “Ye could’ve asked nicely. Sent a letter. Said ye missed me. I’d have returned to ye.”

“I did send letters,” she said sharply. “Monthly.”

“With numbers and ledgers. Flattering.”

She exhaled slowly through her nose. “We’ve more important things to discuss than yer wounded pride.”

Kian cocked his head. “Ye sure? Sounded like yers was bleedin’ just fine.”

Her jaw flexed. “I’m nae doin’ this.”

“Startin’ it, are ye nae?”

They stood in the courtyard like dueling generals. Behind them, the keep buzzed on, blissfully unaware that war had quietly resumed at its heart.

Kian took a step closer. “Ye dragged me across the Highlands, Scarlett. Barked orders at me like I was one o’ yer scullery boys. Tell me, what was so urgent ye couldnae give for a proper invitation?”

“Because ye never answer!” she snapped, voice low but sharp. “And I was nae goin’ to beg. I’d rather die than beg anythin’ of ye.”

Kian stilled.

That one struck deep. Die?

She didn’t blink. Didn’t soften.

He forced himself to breathe evenly. “I had business.”

“Ye had a choice. ”

Another pause.

He held her glare, unflinchingly, until the silence pressed heavily between them. It was Scarlett who shifted first, stepping forward with a cooler tone. “There’s somethin’ ye need to see. And I’d rather speak inside.”

Kian gave her a long look, then gestured toward the keep. “Lead the way, Lady Crawford. ”

He saw that a blush crept up her neck, as if she wanted to say something more but instead she hastily turned, skirts brushing against him as she passed, her shoulders square and spine straight like she carried the entire clan on her back.

And maybe she did.

They walked in silence through the wide doors and into the main hall. Kian scanned everything as they passed. There were all new tapestries, better lighting, floors scrubbed cleaner than he remembered even in his mother’s time.

“Morag tell ye to polish the stone, or was that yer idea?” he asked, casually.

“I told Morag she could run her halls like a damned queen if I ran the clan like a Laird.”

Kian snorted despite himself. “That sounds like treason.”

“Then hang me. I’m long overdue for some peace and quiet.”

He bit down on a grin as they turned down the corridor toward his study. It was the only place he knew they wouldn’t be interrupted, and it was apparent that she knew the same.

She stepped inside ahead of him, and he followed, shutting the door behind them.

The warmth of the fire met him first. Then her. She smelled of lavender mixed with smoke and something sharp beneath it, like clove or citrus.

She turned to face him. Her hands still folded neatly in front of her.

Kian studied her. This close, the dark circles beneath her eyes were more pronounced. She looked like she hadn’t slept well in weeks. And still… still, she was the most beautiful thing he’d seen since spring broke the frost.

And already she was looking at him like she meant to win a fight.

He dragged a hand over his jaw. “Right, then. Let’s hear what was so important.”

Scarlett nodded once, slowly.

“Chair,” she said, finally, pointing firmly behind him. “Because this is goin’ to come as a shock.”

He didn’t sit right away.

Instead, he watched her. The calm, business-like way she moved across the study. The way she retrieved something from a locked drawer. It was a simple envelope, but worn at the edges. Her fingers brushed the fold as if debating whether to hand it over.

“Go on, then,” Kian said. “If we’re past pleasantries.”

Scarlett walked back toward him, extending the envelope like it weighed more than it should.

He took it without comment, his brow twitching only slightly when he saw his name written beside hers.

To the Laird and Lady Crawford.

No seal. No return mark. Just the rough scrawl of someone in haste.

He unfolded the note inside.

Scarlett stood unmoving, opposite him. Her arms were crossed, and her emerald eyes were watching not his face, but his reaction .

Kian read the message to himself once.

Then twice.

He lowered the parchment slowly.

“Is this a jest? What is this?” he asked flatly.

“Do I look like I’m jestin’?” Scarlett replied.

Kian narrowed his eyes at her.

She remained stoic and watching.

He held up the letter, rereading it aloud.

“This is… Elise …? Please care for her as if she were yer own… We cannae keep her… We only ask that the Laird and Lady Crawford show her kindness… She is good. She is loved. She deserves a life better than the one we can give her.”

He looked up slowly. “This letter assumes quite a bit. What did I just read? Is this all?”

“Nay,” Scarlett said, turning toward the door. “There’s more.”

“More?”

“I thought ye’d want to see her for yerself.”

She pulled the door open and nodded to someone down the hall. A moment later, a quiet shuffle of feet echoed toward them.

The door opened wider.

“Her?” Kian managed to say before Effie stepped in, arms full.

Nestled against her shoulder, blinking up with wide, curious eyes, was the smallest bairn Kian had ever seen.

Kian’s hands curled into fists. He wasn’t a man easily rattled, but this shook him to his core. A god-damned baby?

“A girl,” Scarlett said, as if reading his mind while she walked toward Effie.

The bairn was wrapped in a well-worn blanket. Blond curls peeked out from beneath the bonnet. She had a fist in her mouth and one sock nearly kicked off.

Effie nodded respectfully, her face unusually solemn for once. “M’laird… Welcome home.”

“Effie,” Kian said, stiffly.

Scarlett lifted the child with surprising ease, cradling her against her chest. The baby gurgled happily, one hand resting on Scarlett’s collarbone.

Kian just stared.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. A dog. A cat, perhaps. A breeding mare. Never in a million years would he have guessed a child.

“Her name’s Elise,” Scarlett said softly.

Kian blinked. “Aye, the letter,” he said. “Ye… ye’ve been caring for her?”

Scarlett nodded and excused Effie before replying. “For the past six days, aye.”

His brow furrowed. “And ye thought I ought to be summoned from Edinburgh because…?”

Scarlett’s green eyes flashed. “Because she was left for us , Kian. The note named both of us. And whether or nae ye want to acknowledge it, I have nay intention of raising her alone.”

Kian ran a hand down his face. “Ye think I ken whose child this is?”

Scarlett hesitated. “Do ye nae?”

“What?”

“I thought maybe…” She looked at him, something like disbelief clouding her expression. “I thought maybe she was yers from some kind of dalliance before our marriage. That this was a consequence of yer carelessness.”

The room fell deadly silent.

Kian’s blood turned to ice.

He stepped forward, slowly. “Ye thought I would have left a woman with child to marry ye?”

Scarlett met his stare evenly. “I dinnae ken what to think. I daenae ken ye at all!”

That stopped him.