Page 32 of A Highland Bride Disciplined
He blinked.
He, Laird of Crawford, had just beenshushedlike a misbehaving stable boy.
The nerve of this infuriating woman.
His teeth grit together as he stepped inside, careful not to let the door bang shut behind him. “Ye’ve nay right,” he began, voice low but hard.
“Hush, Kian! Christ above,” she hissed again, shooting him a look that could peel paint.
His spine straightened. “Ye enjoy orderin’ folk around, do ye?”
She adjusted the baby slightly, not even looking at him. “Only when they deserve it.”
He stepped closer. “Oh, Ideserveit now, do I?”
Scarlett simply moved toward the cradle without another word. Elise stirred but didn’t cry. Her tiny face scrunched up, then relaxed again.
Both of them froze.
Scarlett shot him a glare over her shoulder. “See what ye’ve done.”
“I havenae done anything. She was wailin’ when I got here.”
“She was already back to sleep.”
“She isstillasleep.”
Scarlett rocked the baby gently in her arms. “Barely.”
Kian kept his voice tight. “Why did ye not send for the nursemaid?”
“Gone back to the village for the night.”
“One of the staff, then.”
“She only quiets formewi’out the nursemaid… me and Morag. But mostly me.I’mcaring for her.”
That irritated him more than it should have. Of course she quieted for Scarlett. She was warm and soft and smelled like lavender. Evenhehad trouble staying annoyed in her presence. But this was someone else’s job, and his wife was wearing herself thin.
He moved to stand beside her. The fire in the hearth was low, casting soft orange light across her face. She looked exhausted. There were clear, dark smudges under her eyes, her lips were slightly chapped like she was parched, and her hair was a bit tangled, but none of it dulled the curve of her mouth or the quiet glow in her cheeks.
He swallowed hard.
Scarlett laid the baby down in the cradle with practiced ease, her hands gentle, her movements smooth. Elise stirred once, then let out a sigh and settled again.
They both stared down at her in silence, as if any noise might undo the miracle of sleep.
Scarlett’s voice came a moment later, low and sharp. “If ye’ve come to complain, best do it wi’out wakin’ her.”
“I wasnae complainin’.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
They stood there, barely breathing. So close he could feel the warmth from her body bleeding into his.
Kian’s gaze dropped to her lips.
She was biting the lower one, thoughtful, maybe tense. Then, slowly, she released it and wet it with her tongue.
