Page 9 of A Highland Bride Disciplined (Scottish Daddies #2)

Morag sniffed like she’d heard the praise but refused to accept it. “I came to fetch the bairn. Time for feedin’. The nursemaid’s waitin’ upstairs.”

Scarlett hesitated, just a little.

She hadn’t meant to grow this attached in six days, but already Elise felt like a limb. She was a part of her that moved and breathed and pulled her toward something new.

Still, she nodded and passed her carefully into Morag’s arms.

The transformation was immediate.

The formidable housekeeper, who barked at staff and stormed through corridors like a battering ram, softened visibly. Her voice dipped into something close to a coo, and she cradled the baby like she’d done it a thousand times before.

“I’ll be back down soon,” she murmured, brushing a thumb over Elise’s bonnet. “Daenae start any revolutions wi’out me.”

Scarlett watched them go, the door swinging gently shut behind them.

She sank back onto the rug with a quiet sigh.

Effie flopped beside her. “I daenae think I’ve laughed that hard since the goat got into the chapel and headbutted the minister.”

Scarlett grinned despite herself. “Aye. Tam may be fearless in battle, but Morag’s got sharper weapons.”

They sat in quiet for a moment, letting the fire crackle and the absence of the baby settle over the room like a cooling pan of bread. It was pleasant, but just a little too still.

“She’ll be back soon,” Scarlett murmured, almost to herself.

Effie glanced at her. “Ye mean the bairn?”

Scarlett nodded. “Feels strange wi’out her. Does it nae?”

Effie bumped her shoulder lightly. “It’s a good kind of quiet. A quiet for thinkin’.”

No reply came because her thoughts had already slipped somewhere else.

To a man with too many shadows and too few apologies.

To the way he’d looked at her in the study.

To the way she wanted to hate him, but couldn’t seem to make the feeling stick.

“Do ye think he’s still angry?” Effie asked, voice low and feigning distraction.

Scarlett arched a brow. “Laird Crawford? That man came out the womb fumin’ at the world. He’ll die angry.”

Effie chuckled but didn’t let it drop. “Still. Ye two had quite the row.”

Scarlett exhaled sharply. “Aye. A difference of opinions, ye might say.”

“Aye… as much of a difference as lightning is to thunder.”

Scarlett gave her a sideways glance. “We kept the furniture intact.”

“Only ‘cause ye were holdin’ a bairn between ye like a peace treaty. The whole keep might have heard ye.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“I heard through the door.”

“Ye were right outside the door, Effie.” Scarlett huffed and leaned her head back against the wall. “He acts like I summoned him for sport. Like I wrote that letter just to twist his tail.”

Effie grinned. “Ye did, though.”

“Aye, I did. And I’d do it again.”

The two women sat in silence for a moment, letting the heat from the fire press against their skin like a second cloak.

Then Effie spoke again, softer now. “D’ye think he’ll stay this time?”

Scarlett stared into the flames. “I think he’ll stay until he finds someone else to blame.”

“For the baby?”

“For everything.”

Effie pulled her knees to her chest. “I think maybe he came back for ye.”

Scarlett snorted. “He came back because I commanded him to. Do ye ken how much that must’ve stung? A MacLennan daughter sendin’ a Murray man orders like a bloody hound. A very tall, very arrogant, occasionally handsome hound.”

“Still. He came back. Because his wife insisted upon it.”

Scarlett hesitated. “Aye… he did.”

Effie watched her. “And?”

“And what?”

Effie rolled her eyes. “Oh, come now. Ye cannae sit here, flushed and brooding, and expect me nae to ask. What happened between ye two? Before he left?”

Scarlett turned her face away. “Nothin’ worth repeatin’.”

“That’s nae the answer of a woman who felt nothin’.”

Scarlett bit her lip.

She’d felt something. Still did, against all rational thought, she did. That temper. Pride. His smug set mouth, as if always right on the edge of saying something cruel…

She had never admitted it, not even to herself. But the memory of their wedding night, the almost of it, still clung to her like the taste of honey left too long on the tongue. Sweet, but impossible to swallow.

Effie leaned forward, resting her chin on her knees. “Ye love him?”

Scarlett scoffed. “ Love him? I could throttle him.”

“That’s nae quite a nay, is it?”

Scarlett pinched the bridge of her nose. “I loathe him, Effie.”

Effie nodded seriously. “Ye loathe him in a way that makes yer toes curl.”

“Effie Adams!”

“I’ve seen how ye look at him. I’ve seen how ye look when ye think about him. Like he’s both the fire and the burn.”

Scarlett looked down at her hands, fingers twitching.

She remembered the way Kian had looked at her in the study. That hot, careful intensity like he was trying to memorize her face and command her into silence all at once. The way he had stepped too close. It was like his presence alone was supposed to burn her alive.

And it had.

Sweet hells it does.

“I hate him,” she muttered again, but her traitorous hand lifted and brushed against the spot where his lips had caressed her neck, just below her ear.

Effie bumped her arm. “Oh, aye...”

A soft knock came at the door, and Scarlett sat up quickly, heart leaping, but it was only Morag returning with Elise bundled neatly against her chest.

“The bairn is fed. Drifted off again on our way back here,” Morag said, her voice unusually quiet.

Scarlett stood and took the baby from her arms. The bairn let out a puff of air that smelled like milk and sleep, then tucked her cheek against Scarlett’s collarbone.

“Thank ye,” she murmured.

Morag nodded, lingering for a moment as if she wanted to say more. Then she sniffed once and turned on her heel, muttering something about dust in the corridor.

Effie stood and stretched. “Well. That’s one of us that got a nap today.”

Scarlett smiled faintly. Elise smelled like milk and honey now, all warm and clean and impossibly soft.

Effie peeked at the baby’s sleeping face. “She looks safe.”

Scarlett looked down. Elise’s tiny hand was resting over her heart, like she knew exactly where she belonged.

“Aye,” Scarlett whispered. “She is.”

They sat down together again, more gently this time. Scarlett adjusted the baby in her arms and let her gaze wander to the window, where the fading light of the day cast golden shadows across the stone floor.

Effie sighed. “So what now?”

Scarlett shook her head. “Now? We keep her warm. We keep her fed. And we wait.”

“For what?”

Scarlett didn’t answer right away, but in her heart she knew.

She was waiting to see if the man who had returned to the keep would stay as her husband, or vanish again, leaving her to raise this child and this clan alone.

Again.