Effie squeaked, “Oh, daenae saythat!”before covering her mouth, horrified at her own boldness.
Scarlett laughed softly, and Elise, startled by the sound, blinked up with wide eyes as though her little world had shifted too.
Morag clucked. “Enough chatter. The bairn’s clean and needs to rest. The hearth’s lit and there’s work elsewhere to be done.”
But her tone lacked its usual bite. Scarlett caught the glimmer of approval in the housekeeper’s eyes before she turned away.
Kian lingered at Scarlett’s side, his hand flexing once at his thigh as though tempted to reach for her, but he didn’t. Instead, he inclined his head, voice pitched low for her alone. “See? The storm’s passin’.”
Scarlett exhaled slowly almost believing him.
18
The study door had barely clicked behind him before Kian’s mind started racing again. He sat at his desk, lost in thought.
Tam’s words still nagged, Ye’ll ruin yerself pushin’ her away.
And damn it all, Tam was right.
He rubbed at eyes, then pushed to his feet. There was work piling up, aye, but none of it heavier than the sight of Scarlett this morning, eyes tired, voice nearly breaking as she clutched Elise.
A man could build keeps from stone, strike bargains with lowland merchants, fight raiders off his borders, but he was helpless before the grief of a woman holding a child.
Her grief confused him at first, though. He thought that she would have been thrilled at the decision to keep Elise. He foundit almost unbelievable that she would ever think that she would fail.
What would make her believe?
Kian wrenched open the door to the study and walked out purposefully. He’d come up with his plan on the way. It was his duty to have a plan.
His boots muted on stone as he navigated the corridors until he found himself outside her chambers. A sliver of light escaped the crack. He knocked once, then pushed through.
Scarlett sat by the wide window, quill scratching across parchment. The morning sun painted her hair in fire, each curl gleaming like copper spun fine. She looked smaller somehow. Her shoulders bowed under a weight he could not lift. From down the corridor came Elise’s faint cry, a reminder of the life that tethered them both.
Scarlett’s hand stilled. She turned, startled. For a moment her eyes flickered wide as if she hadn’t expected him at all.
Kian cleared his throat. “Ye’ve a moment, Scarlett?” His voice rasped, too rough for the gentleness he meant.
She studied him in silence, then set the quill down. “Always.”
The single word tightened something in his chest. He crossed the room, lowering into the seat across from her. For once, she did not stiffen or scowl. She simply waited.
He braced his forearms on his knees, thumb dragging over the desk edge. Words came heavy as iron. “I’ve been thinkin’. About Elise. About us.”
Her brows arched. She didn’t interrupt, and that unsettled him more than any sharp retort.
“There’ll be questions,” he went on. “From yer kin, from ours. Whispers already run faster than truth. We should face them wi’ strength, nae secrecy. I mean to hold a hunt. Invite yer family. A feast after. Elise will be presented proper, under Crawford protection. None will doubt she belongs here.”
Scarlett blinked, lips parting. Her hand drifted over her chest as if to steady her heart. “Say that again.”
Kian leaned closer. “She’s ours in the eyes o’ the keep. And I’ll make sure she’s seen as such by all.”
Relief broke over her face so raw it startled him. A tear slipped down her cheek, unchecked. She let out a shaky laugh, half broken. “Aye. Yes. Thank ye, Kian.”
He shifted, unsettled. He hadn’t sought thanks—hadn’t expected it. It scraped something unguarded in him. “It’s more thanshowin’ strength,” he said gruffly. “It’s opportunity. The McTavishes will be there.”
At that her shoulders stiffened, the laughter dying. “Why?”
“Because one o’ theirs was askin’ after Nieve afore… afore she was lost.” He exhaled hard, jaw tight. “If there are answers, better they’re spoken at our table.”