Page 58 of A Highland Bride Disciplined
Scarlett crossed the room, her skirt brushing lightly against the corner of the desk before she perched on the edge of a chair opposite him. “I dinnae take to her, but Effie and Morag are actin’ like giddy schoolgirls. I just… cannae see it,” she lied.
One of his brows lifted, slow as a drawbridge. “Would this one be… Màiri Ferguson?”
“Aye.”
“Why?”
Scarlett straightened, smoothed her skirts, and tried to summon the cool authority that had carried her through the last months. “Màiri Ferguson… she’s fine. Polite. Well-spoken. But I dinnae like her tone. Too quick with her answers. Too rehearsed. I cannae trust her.”
Kian’s brow furrowed. “Too rehearsed? Scarlett, the lass has buried a child and raised her kin. That’s nae rehearsal, that’s hard-earned experience. Which is more than ye or I can boast when it comes to a bairn.”
Her spine stiffened. “I ken what I heard. And I say I’ll nae have her.”
Kian stood, slow, deliberate, crossing the room until his shadow cut across her. “Bullshit,” he said evenly. “That’s nae yer reason. Out with it.”
Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. She turned away, nails biting into her palm. “I… I daenae trust her, Kian.”
His voice dropped, low and certain. “Ye’re lying. Stop. Lying. Scarlett. She’s perfectly qualified —”
Scarlett spun on him, the words breaking loose like floodwater. “Because I’m afraid, damn ye! Afraid she’ll do better than me. Afraid Elise will look for her comfort instead o’ mine. That I’mplayin’ at bein’ a mother when I havenae the first clue how to be one!”
Her breath came ragged, tears stinging hot. “What if I cannae keep her safe? What if she grows and sees me for what I am? A fraud! What if I ruin her?”
Silence stretched, heavy and raw. Kian’s gaze didn’t waver, and the intensity in it made her knees tremble.
At last, he set his quill down and folded his hands in front of him. “Ye’ve kept her alive, loved, and laughing these past weeks, Scarlett. That isnae fraud.Thatis mothering. And ye’ll continue to care for her, until we find her parents, but I’ll nae have ye do it alone.”
Scarlett’s voice got caught in her throat, shocked by Kian’s response, and he continued. “Ye should sleep on it, lass. If ye are still sure in the mornin’, after everything that’s been said,” he waved his hands around him. “Then we will keep looking.”
“That’s it?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then nodded once. “What else would ye have me say?”
“I thought ye’d… disagree or override me decision.”
“I can disagree and still hear ye, but nay decision such as this should be made without sleepin’ on it,” he said simply. “Especially if the one makin’ the decision is so torn.”
She didn’t like the warm flicker that stirred in her chest at those words. Or rather, she liked it far too much, which was worse.
Kian was already turning back to his ledger, though she saw the faint line between his brows that said he wasn’t truly thinking about the numbers anymore. “We’ve other names. Tam will see to the rest.”
Scarlett rose from her chair, smoothing her skirt. That should have been the end of it. But she lingered.
Something about the way he’d challenged her but still made her feel powerful left her off-balance. She didn’t want to say thank you because it would feel too much like ceding ground. And yet she didn’t want to leave the room.
Which was why she heard herself say, “Ye’ve told me much about what ye want for the bairn. But nae much about ye.”
His gaze flicked up again, quick and searching. “About me?”
“Aye. The man who can take a clan from ruin to… this.” She gestured lightly to the sturdy, warm room around them. “The one who thinks ahead three steps, and still somehow has time to lecture me on me supposed duties.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but his eyes didn’t soften. “What do ye want to ken?”
She tilted her head, feeling the faintest curve of a smile form before she could stop it. “Somethingreal.”
For the first time in the conversation, Kian leaned back in his chair fully, his weight settling as if he were bracing himself.
“That,” he said slowly, “might take more than one evening.”
