Page 46 of A Highland Healer Captured (Scottish Daddies #3)

Her voice, when it came, was softer. “Then why the rush if ye care so much? Could ye nae let me stay with me kin a little longer?”

He didn’t answer for a while.

Then, with a business-like tone, he said, “Because I leave for Edinburgh tomorrow, and I want ye settled first.”

Scarlett blinked. “Ye what?”

“Whiskey contracts. Trade routes. I’ll be gone for a month, maybe two.”

The cold returned, this time deeper. “So that’s it? We marry, ye whisk me off to yer keep, then leave like it means nothin’?”

“It’s duty,” he said.

“I ken about duty,” she snapped. “But I thought—” She broke off. She wasn’t about to beg for crumbs of attention.

He didn’t notice, or at least he pretended not to. “The clan depends on this. I’ll nae waste time lingerin’.”

Scarlett turned her face away, her eyes trained on the winding path ahead.

So this was marriage.

Cold, quiet, and full of silence where warmth might’ve lived.

Until Tam stiffened. Kian also stiffened, searching the dark woods for movement.

“There,” Tam said suddenly, pointing.

Scarlett looked up and saw a figure stumbling toward them. A woman, running hard, her skirts torn and her hair in disarray.

Scarlett’s breath hitched.

Something is wrong.

The woman was breathless, pale as milk, and stealing glances behind her as if the devil himself was hot on her heels. Her gown was torn, the hem stained with mud.

Scarlett stood in the carriage, her heart racing. “Stop! Stop the carriage!”

Tam pulled the reins hard, and the horses whinnied in protest.

Kian’s head snapped toward her. “What in the hell?”

“There’s a woman! We cannae just pass her by!”

By the time the coach rolled to a halt, Scarlett had already leapt down, her boots thudding on the dirt. The woman skidded to a stop a few paces away, her eyes wide with panic, her chest heaving.

“Lass,” Scarlett said gently, lifting her hands in peace. “Ye’re safe now. What’s happened to ye?”

The woman opened her mouth, but no sound came. Her gaze flicked again over her shoulder, and that’s when Scarlett saw them.

Five men. Coming fast over the ridge, their dark shapes framed by the moors and sky. Not soldiers but ruffians. Two were wielding blades, and one was carrying a length of rope.

“Behind me,” Scarlett ordered without thinking, grabbing the woman’s arm and pulling her close.

She felt Kian step down beside her, his voice low and edged in steel. “Tam.”

“Aye.” Tam was already moving, unsheathing his sword with a hiss.

The lead ruffian shouted, “That lass is ours . She ran. She’s nothin’ but a servant .”

“Yer servant’s runnin’ from ye ,” Scarlett snapped back. “Looks to me like she had a good reason.”

“This is none of yer concern, woman,” one of the men sneered.

“Ye’ll remember kindly nae to address me wife as such,” Kian growled. “And as me wife, what’s hers is mine. She’s claimed this lass, so I say we’re done here.”

Scarlett’s heart thudded at his words. She hated the shiver his voice sent through her. It wasn’t fair. He’d all but ignored her for hours, but now, standing in the road like her own personal tempest, he felt solid. Fierce. Like a shield.

The men hesitated.

“And who are ye?”

“Doesnae matter. Ye are goin’ to die anyway. What’s a name?”

The silence was deafening.

Then, like all cowards do when puffed up in a pack, they surged forward.

The first swung at Kian.

Steel clashed.

Scarlett gasped as Kian dodged the blow, blade already in motion. He was brutally fast. In a heartbeat, he had the man disarmed and bleeding on the dirt.

Tam let out a wild laugh, lunging into the fray with a cry of glee. “Finally! Something worth swingin’ at!”

Another man came toward Scarlett, his eyes cruel.

Kian stepped between them without hesitation. “Touch her, and I’ll end ye slowly.”

That man wisely turned on his heel and bolted.

The rest fell quickly.

Blood stained the road. The last man dropped his weapon and limped toward the hills, not even glancing back.

Scarlett exhaled hard, still clutching the woman’s arm. Her hands were shaking.

Kian turned to her sharply. “What in God’s name were ye thinkin’, leapin’ from the carriage like that?”

“I was thinkin’ she was about to be taken or killed right in front of us!” Scarlett shot back.

“And what would I have done if ye’d been caught in the middle of that?” His face was flushed with fury. “ Ye could’ve been killed , Scarlett!”

She stepped forward, her chin tilted up. “So could she . Am I meant to turn me head and pretend I daenae see?”

“Ye’re meant to be cautious!” he shouted then lowered his voice, his teeth clenched. “Ye’re me wife now. Yer life is nay longer just yer own.”

His words hit her like a slap to the face.

Not the ownership in them. No, that wasn’t what stung. It was the way he said wife . Like it mattered. Like she mattered. Like he meant it.

Before she could answer, the woman stirred beside her.

“Erm… thank ye,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I dinnae ken where else to run when I saw yer carriage.”

Scarlett turned toward her gently. “What’s yer name, lass?”

“Nieve,” she said after a heartbeat. “Nieve O’Brien.”

Kian nodded to Tam, who went to drag the bodies off the road. “Where were ye headin’, Nieve?”

She glanced between them, hugging herself. “South. I daenae have coin, but I thought if I could make it as far as Dunmore, I might secure passage.”

Scarlett hesitated. “Do ye need shelter? We could take ye as far as?—”

Nieve shook her head fast. “Nay. I cannae… I need to disappear.”

Scarlett’s eyes narrowed at the way her hand drifted protectively to her midsection.

It was just a slight movement. Barely noticeable. But it twisted something in Scarlett’s chest.

Kian had already moved toward the carriage. Without a word, he opened a pouch and pulled free a small bundle. He pressed it into Nieve’s hand.

“Get somewhere safe,” he said.

Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes. “I daenae ken how to thank ye.”

“Live,” Kian uttered.

Scarlett watched her go until the hills swallowed her up. When she turned back, Kian was already mounting his horse again, like it was nothing.

Like none of it mattered.

She climbed back into the carriage in silence, and they resumed their ride.

Only when the silence stretched out too long did she say, “Ye dinnae have to give her coin.”

“Oh, nay?” He eyed her knowingly.

“Nay…”

“She wouldnae have made it otherwise.”

Scarlett eyed him. “Ye say little, but ye’re full of surprises, Laird Crawford.”

He didn’t look at her, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Daenae get used to it.”

She laughed, despite herself.

And then, just when the warmth might’ve crept in, he ruined it.

“I’ll see ye safe at the keep. But ye’ll need to learn how to obey, Scarlett.”

Her heart clenched. “And if I daenae obey ?”

He finally turned his gaze to her, brown and bottomless. “Then this marriage will be a bloody long war.”

The road narrowed as they rode onto the wild Crawford hills, grey slopes rising like old bones beneath a pale sky. Heather whispered in the wind, and the scent of pine crept into the carriage as Scarlett sat stiffly beside Kian, her arms crossed tight.

She could still see the woman’s pale face in her mind.

Nieve. What accent was that? Lowlands?

Her hands had been shaking, clutching her belly like it might vanish if she didn’t hold on.

With child?

Kian hadn’t asked. Hadn’t needed to. Just handed her gold and sent her off into the wild.

Scarlett stole a glance at him.

He rode like a man born to it. Broad shoulders square, one hand steady on the reins, the other resting on his thigh. There was blood on his sleeve, but he hadn’t bothered to wipe it clean.

She looked away.

“Ye’re angry again,” he said without looking at her.

“Nae angry,” she muttered. “Just takin’ measure.”

“Of what?”

“Of the kind of man who gives a lass coin and then tells his wife to learn obedience.”

Kian let out a short laugh. “Ye have a sharp tongue, Lady Crawford.”

Scarlett turned to him. “Aye, and ye have a thick skull. Makes us a fine pair.”

That earned her a genuine chuckle. Deep. Rough. Too warm.

She hated how it made her stomach flutter.

He looked at her then, finally meeting her gaze, and something in his expression softened. Only for a heartbeat, but it was there, clear as the sun.

“I daenae want a wife who bows and simpers,” he said quietly. “But I do expect a wife who’ll listen.”

“I was listenin’,” she insisted. “I just dinnae like what I heard.”

He smirked. “Then it seems we’ll both have to get used to disappointment.”

Scarlett huffed a laugh despite herself and leaned back into her seat, letting the gentle sway of the carriage jostle her sideways.

In the distance, the great towers of Crawford Keep began to rise from the mist. Sharp, grey stone scraped against the sky like a warning. Scarlett had only seen sketches, but in person, it was far bleaker than she had imagined.

No gardens. No open fields. Just rock, battlements, and walls thick enough to hold back the world.

“Home,” Kian said without a hint of affection.

Scarlett swallowed. “Looks cheerful.”

Kian quirked an eyebrow. “Did ye expect ribbons and roses?”

“I expected nothin’.”

“Ye’ll make it yer own if ye’re clever enough.”

The horses slowed as they reached the gates. The guards opened them with wary stares, but not a word was spoken.

Scarlett wondered how many had expected Kian to return with a bride. Or if they’d assumed, like she nearly had, that he’d vanish forever into his whiskey barrels and never look back.

The carriage rolled through the shadow of the keep.

Inside, the courtyard bustled though it quieted when they stepped out. The stable hands paused mid-task. A cook wiped her hands on her apron and squinted at Scarlett as if trying to recall a memory. A little boy peeked out from behind a hay cart, his eyes wide as moons.

Scarlett descended slowly, trying not to let her nerves show. Her boots hit stone, and for a moment, she stood still, just breathing.

She belonged to this place now. And it would belong to her if she had any say in the matter.

Kian gave orders quietly to Tam, who nodded and strode off toward the barracks. He turned to her then, his face unreadable again.

“We’ll speak later,” he said. “I’ve business to settle before I leave tomorrow.”

Scarlett blinked. “Ye’re still plannin’ to leave? After all of that?”

“I said I would. I keep me word.”

Her jaw clenched. “Of course, ye do.”

He moved to step past her but then paused.

“If ye truly want to make somethin’ of this life, Scarlett, ye’ll need to learn to obey,” he said very softly.

She turned toward him, her green eyes sharp as shattered glass.

“And if ye truly want a wife, Kian Murray, ye’ll need to learn to earn her.”

Her words hung between them like a challenge.

His lips curled, not into a smile but something darker. His eyes trailed down before raking back up the length of her. Then, he stepped in, close enough that her skirts brushed his boots. “Careful, lass.”

Scarlett tilted up her chin. “Or what?”

His hand hovered near her waist, heat pulsing over her skin, though he never touched her. “Or I’ll have to remind ye what already belongs to me.”

Her breath hitched, her chin stayed high, but her eyes betrayed her and dropped to his mouth before darting back up.

Kian’s gaze locked onto hers, molten. Then, just as the air between them burned impossibly hot, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her in the heart of her new home, her knees trembling, the ghost of his touch searing her skin.